These days, getting fired almost feels like a prerequisite or a rite of passage. I’ve been through this before, most recently in May when the startup I was leading customer operations for restructured, reducing my role and other roles in the process.
That month, U.S. companies announced 97,006 layoffs, an increase of 16% from the previous month and a 3% increase from a year earlier, according to Challenger, Gray & Christmas, a global outplacement agency. Companies announced more than 1.2 million job cuts in 2025, the highest number since 2020 and the seventh highest since 1989.
I know firsthand that being fired can be one of the most isolating professional experiences, even if it happens to hundreds of thousands of employees across the country.
Finding a new job isn’t easy in a depressed job market, where 27.1% of unemployed people have been looking for more than six months, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. The U.S. economy added just 29,000 jobs in September, far less than economists expected, and the payroll numbers for July and August were revised down by about 60,000, according to jobs data released on Friday.
Here’s what the aftermath of my layoff and search is like for me. I apply for job after job and get no response. Contact people who don’t respond. I went home and told my wife that I had been turned down from 5 more jobs today. I have a family that loves me dearly, but I was still alone. Because even if you are surrounded by people, being rejected will leave you alone.
I thought if loneliness was a problem, building community with other laid-off people might be the answer. There were certainly enough people on the chopping block. So a few months ago, I made a sign, took it to a local coffee shop, and put it up on the table.
It says, “Have you been fired? You’re not alone. Let’s talk!”
Started experimenting with “open chair”
It felt scary to sign up. It meant admitting to passing strangers that I had lost my job, sitting there not knowing who would stop, who would stare, who would walk past me as if they couldn’t see me, who would judge. But you can’t ask people to be vulnerable if you’re not willing to do it yourself.
On my first day in the new shop, the only available seat was a small table in the back, next to napkins, lids, sugar and cream. At first, I thought my experiment (which I now call the “open chair”) had failed. It turned out to be the best seat in the house, as everyone ended up walking past the napkin station.
Kate, pictured here with me and the autograph, works at a coffee shop. She and my colleague Owen are my biggest supporters. They always ask how I’m doing and encourage me to talk to more people and keep helping.
Provided by Chris Kealoha Gillon
One young woman kept coming back, grabbing the lid, then a napkin, then another. I could see her eyes land on my sign every time she passed by. On the fourth trip, she stopped, sighed, and sat down.
Then she told her story to a total stranger (me). As a recent college graduate, she said she struggled to do anything until she finally found her way into a local company. A year later, she was fired. My first real job, my first real layoff, and I had no idea what to do next. She was exactly what I was conducting this experiment on.
Do “What I’m Most Proud of”
Throughout my career, I have said that helping others grow their careers is what I am most proud of.
For a long time I wanted to become a teacher. I am inspired by the way Ms. Miller, my fourth grade teacher and volleyball and basketball coach, teaches, coaches, and connects with me. When I grew up, I wanted to do the same for other people. I didn’t become a teacher because I had other plans in life. But as I started coaching basketball and then built a career in the technology industry, I realized that I was good at coaching people professionally and helping them achieve their goals.
I never thought I would be able to continue working at a coffee shop while unemployed. But after we put up the signage, it started happening on its own.
The moment two people have enough courage to be honest with each other, even if they are strangers sharing an experience unexpectedly over coffee, the loneliness begins to fade.
One man I met said he was fired after working for the same company for 10 years. He didn’t touch a resume or sit down for an interview in 10 years, but the world around him had changed while he wasn’t looking. I’ve been helping him rebuild, including teaching him how to use AI to be a little more competitive in today’s job market.
Another person I worked with found a job right away. When she shared the news, I felt excitement and relief for her and for me. It felt like proof that the handmade signs I’ve been taking to coffee shops three days a week for the past few months can not only make someone feel less alone, but can play a small role in changing the direction of their life.
As for the woman that first day, we talked and connected on LinkedIn, but then she went silent. I don’t hear from her anymore, so we made peace. The sign says “Let’s chat” instead of “Let’s stay in touch.”
Some people just need to know that you’re invited to talk, whether or not they agree to talk. Some people have to walk past the sign several times before they are finally ready to sit down. Some people need to take a few minutes to share their layoff experience with a stranger they’ll never meet again.
Combating the loneliness of being laid off
Over the summer, I felt like my own job search was in full swing, passing interviews and discussing potential opportunities, but then things went quiet. If I don’t get an offer right away, I plan to take on a job in a friend’s event business during the holidays to keep myself busy and earn some money. And I will continue to put up my sign in the coffee shop.
A friend of mine named Brian brought his girlfriend Ruscha when she got fired and came to chat with me. And we wrote her resume together.
Provided by Chris Kealoha Gillon
The biggest lesson I learned from the brave people who sat in the open chair was also the scariest. That means no one can escape the loneliness of being fired.
Over four months of conversations, everyone who sat across from me described their experiences. Rejection reaction. Ghosting. I feel like I’m going through this completely alone. It didn’t matter what industry they were from or how senior they were.
But the moment two people have enough courage to be honest with each other, even if they are strangers sharing an experience unexpectedly over coffee, the loneliness begins to fade. I’ve been able to meet and connect with so many smart and motivated people from all kinds of backgrounds, and it fills my cup a hundred times more.
So if you see a sign like mine, pull up a chair. If you can’t find one, create one or reach out to someone you know who is recovering from a layoff. It doesn’t take much to make someone feel a little less alone. Just invite them openly and be willing to go first.
Kris Kealoha Giron has spent 25 years building and leading customer experience teams in HR and payroll software, from her early career at Intuit to Gusto, Salsa, and Lumber. After his role was eliminated in the 2026 reorganization, he founded The Openchair to provide free resume support, interview preparation, conversation, and more to people going through layoffs. He lives in the Bay Area with his wife and has four adult children.
