Janet Feenstra first came to Sweden from the US in 2013. She'd built a solid career doing what's called 'language editing' at Malmö University — tidying up research papers written by academics whose first language isn't English.
"The standard of English here in Sweden is very, very high, so this was very specialised academic editing," she explains. "The international journals are very picky, so it required a certain expertise that we could offer."
For years, the work was steady and well-paid. She raised two sons as a single mother. She had financial security — or so she thought.
Then the talk started. Within the university, people began mentioning AI — how an AI system prompted to meet journal requirements might be able to do the work she'd been doing, especially if a manuscript was already quite good.
"It was scary," Feenstra says. "I felt like the writing was on the wall a bit. I didn't want to wait until it was too late. I felt scared… I'm divorced, I have two children to look after and I need financial security."
She made the decision to retrain in something she was fairly sure AI would not replace anytime soon. She enrolled in culinary school.
The transition was brutal. She couldn't afford her rent anymore and had to move out. Her sons, who'd been splitting time between both parents' homes, had to live full-time with their father. Feenstra moved in with her partner, whose flat was too small for the boys.
"I've had to work really hard: I've had to retrain, I've had to accept lower pay and conditions that are physically challenging," she says.
Now, five months into her bakery job, there are things she loves. Rolling out dough by hand feels amazing. She and her colleagues listen to music and dance and sing whenever they want. She has a lot more fun.
But the trade-offs are real. She earns less. Her commute is longer. The work is much more tiring. And the class transition — from white-collar academic work to a blue-collar trade — has required a psychological adjustment.
"White-collar work isn't all it's cracked up to be, I've realised," she says. "But it requires an adjustment. We're so defined by our jobs and our class."
She recently signed a contract on a new flat that will have room for her sons — a goal realised after months of sacrifice.
She's already thinking about the next chapter. She watches how the bakery owners run the business, just in case there's a possibility of running her own bakery one day. At 52, she knows physical labor won't be sustainable forever.
"I want my sons to feel a little bit inspired by that," she says of her ability to adapt. "It's been an interesting journey."