This year’s diploma was kept in a bag in Kia Mills’ closet. Not framed. Is not shown. It was expensive and not being used while she uploaded another resume from her gray couch in Little Rock on a gray afternoon. There was only one candle burning on the coffee table next to her. Though it’s a small thing, it says more than most labor reports ever could.
Mills, who is 35 years old, has a master’s degree in criminal justice. Aaliyah McShane, her 29-year-old friend, has two master’s degrees and has worked her way up through the government for years to get to mid-level management jobs. Shakia Jackson, who is 45 years old, was in charge of a state office for health equity that had real programs and real staff. Cooper has an MBA and used to work as a project manager for a big insurance company. As of this writing, the four of them have nine college degrees, decades of work experience, and not a single steady paycheck.
People in this story didn’t try hard enough. It would be easier and also wrong to frame it that way. These women did exactly what they were told to do: get the degree, move up the ladder, and build their resumes. When they got there, they found the ladder leaning against a wall while it was being quietly taken apart. Marc Morial, president of the National Urban League, said it bluntly: he couldn’t think of another time when the Black unemployment rate had gotten so bad so quickly that wasn’t during a major economic downturn. “They went to college; they climbed the corporate ladder,” he replied, “and — voilà — they’re out of work.”
It’s hard to look away from the numbers that back up their stories. In the past year, the unemployment rate for black women went up from 5.4% to 7.3%. That rate for white women hasn’t been seen since the worst part of the Great Recession. Still, the economy as a whole hasn’t crashed. Most white workers are still in their jobs. There isn’t a general downturn to blame for the gap; there’s something more specific, and harder to name.
Structure is part of what’s making it happen. Black women have been overrepresented in federal jobs for a long time, and that’s exactly the area that took the most cuts last year. The case of Jackson is a good example. She was in charge of the Arkansas Office of Health Equity, a group that helped underserved communities get more health care and provided translation services.
The Trump administration changed the office’s name, took away its power, and got rid of it completely by late 2025. She told the Washington Post, “We have to be two times better than everyone else.” “To get these degrees, we had to work twice as hard.” Even though we did everything they asked, they can just throw you away like it’s nothing. That sentence has sadness in it. Also, there is carefully controlled anger.
Cooper’s knowledge adds something new. After being fired from Blue Cross Blue Shield because of changes related to Medicaid, she started leaving off her master’s degree on job applications because she kept getting told she was too qualified. Similar feedback loops were talked about by Mills and McShane: apply, get turned down, and then see the same listing come up again a week later. McCane said she began to think that AI screening tools were turning her down before a person even looked at her name. “You hand in a résumé,” she replied, “and AI just rejects it immediately.” You’ll be hurt by hearing that after working hard for years to get credentials that will make you more marketable.
Anybody willing to give a clear answer to the real question that’s being asked? What kind of deal was it if the degrees don’t work? Or did it depend on things that were never said out loud? The four women in Little Rock are not the only ones in the data. Those are the numbers. They’ve made changes while still applying for the jobs they trained for, like driving for Uber, substitute teaching for $118 a day, and part-time customer service jobs paying $16.61 an hour. The job market might get better. It’s also possible that something more permanent has changed for a certain group of very qualified people.
“I think God is teaching me how to be patient,” Mills stated. This is what someone says when they have no more big ideas to explain things and need something new to hold on to. It does not explain the crisis of credibility. But it does tell you the truth about how much it costs to live in one.
