It's all hands on deck at jobless call center

Diana O'Brien has been there. She's been laid off. She's cried. She's wondered how things could have gone so wrong.

So when O'Brien, an intake agent for the State Employment Security Department, hears the distress in the voices of the recently unemployed, she tries to put them at ease. Her tone and her language are like a mother's arms that say: It's going to be OK.

"I've had a lot of criers," said the 54-year-old widowed mother of four. "They don't know how they're going to pay their rent, or their mortgage."

While the words "unemployment line" might conjure up images of down-and-out laborers standing in slow-moving queues, that's no longer how the unemployment system works. In 1999, the state began taking applications for unemployment benefits only online or over the telephone, with calls routed to either a call center in Spokane or one in Seattle.

In recent months, amid a worsening recession, the state has fielded record numbers of calls and applications, many from people facing life without work for the first time. People like O'Brien, one of about 100 intake agents in the Seattle office, are on the front lines.

Typically, they split their days processing Internet applications and fielding phone calls. But the recent surge in layoffs has prompted an all-hands-on-deck response.

"Honestly, people all over the agency are helping with this because it's so overwhelming," says employment-security department spokesman Mark Varadian.

O'Brien's desk is one among rows and rows of pistachio-toned, 5-by-5-foot cubicles in the Seattle call center, situated in an old brick office building in Georgetown. She knows that losing one's job can be traumatic, so she's not surprised when people call ready to vent.

"We have a lot of scared people, a lot of frustrated people who want their questions answered immediately, and it's understandable," said Seattle intake supervisor Kitty Henley.

In December, when the state unemployment rate made its highest monthly jump in more than three decades to 7.1 percent, the department recorded 90,331 new claimants — a department record and a 75 percent increase over a year earlier.

"We didn't break the record," Varadian said. "We pretty much shattered it."

Rising numbers

Now the rising number of calls is stressing an overloaded system struggling to keep pace.

In December, the system fielded a record million-plus calls from people filing claims, reopening claims, reporting time worked, or wondering where their checks are. The total also includes those who tire of being on hold and finally hang up, never reaching an actual person.

Over the past year, the state has nearly doubled the staff at its two call centers. It still hasn't been enough, though the state has so far avoided the systemwide crashes that have recently plagued similarly overloaded states such as Ohio and New York.

With an average three-month hiring process for intake agents, followed by six weeks of training, "we're always going to be bit behind the curve," Varadian said.

The fortunate irony is that many new hires were recently laid off themselves. "They're not dealing with it in the abstract," Varadian said. "It's where they were sitting several months ago."

But even as they handle an average four calls per hour, intake agents have a delicate balance to achieve, offering a listening ear while keeping an eye on digital reader-boards posted around the cavernous room that signal how many callers are waiting. At 2 p.m. on a recent Monday, for example, 67 calls were lined up in the most popular queue — "English-speaking, basic question" — with an estimated 27-minute maximum wait time.

Dealing with sometimes exasperated, emotional clients creates its own stress, so the call center offers a "Zen-like" quiet room for employees to chill out on breaks with books, comfortable chairs and a ban on cellphones.

"It's there for exactly that reason," Varadian said. "We know there's a toll on our intake staff."

Sense of empathy

For 21 years, O'Brien worked for a nationwide title-insurance company in Tacoma, working her way up to a supervisory recording-officer position.

By mid-2006, it was clear the company planned cutbacks. Still, it came as a shock when she was among dozens of local employees let go.

The experience hit hard. For a month, she became ill, barely able to get out of bed. "That just devastated me," she said.

For O'Brien, it was just the start of an emotionally turbulent two years. She took a banking position, then left that one for a job with another title company, but found she was spending much of her time dealing with foreclosures.

In spring 2007, her new company laid her off. Later that year, her husband died. As she picked herself up and moved on, she heard about a state call-center job opening, applied last May, and was summoned within a week.

Soon she was collecting basic information from callers, verifying work histories, making sure their claims are up to date. When was the last time you worked? Who was your employer?

One recent afternoon, she found that one caller had neglected to post her last work experience — a caregiver job — on her claim, even though it showed up in tax records filed by the employer. O'Brien didn't scold or raise her voice.

"OK, we're going to have a little problem with your claim," she said. "You said you didn't work. We need to fix that."

She filled out a form by hand as she took down the new information. "OK, you did work," she said. "How many hours? We're going to go ahead and file that for you, so you don't get dinged."

She punched a calculator, scribbled on a notepad. "All righty. You are done," she said. "Have a good day."

Monday is busiest for intake agents, as claimants begin filing required weekly updates. While those can be done online or through an automated phone system, claimants often have questions.

As callers respond to a series of prompts, their calls are classified as either simple or complex, English- or Spanish-language, and so on, then are routed to agents of varying expertise.

The department has added more phone lines — 660 now, up from 568 a year ago — and is pondering other options, such as later or weekend call-center hours.

"In certain situations, I tell people, 'I've been where you are ... but it's going to be OK,' " O'Brien says. "The economy's bad, and people are suffering. I used to take all that baggage home with me, but I can't anymore. Otherwise I'm no good to them."

Marc Ramirez: 206-464-8102 or mramirez@seattletimes.com