Disclaimer: I am not an economic analyst, and don't pretend to know the inner working and meaning of the sagging global ecomonic situation. These are merely observations.
I've been thinking a lot since I've graduated, and actually since before I graduated. I have this Literature degree. I always knew I wanted to write, and I always assumed that meant earning a living as a writer in some capacity. Then I thought that might actually kill the joy in writing to work on someone else's projects, someone else's timetable, and under someone else's expectations of what I should be turning out. And then the horror struck: what the heck do I want to do with my life?
I still don't know. But I had the following realization at dinner tonight: with the economy as it is, is
anyone fulfilled by their job? Has doing work that means something to you become another fallen American (global?) ideal? I have been feeling like I need to apologize, in a sense, for my degree.
I know how to write a mean essay. I know that doesn't help [insert company/industry here], but I need a job. Sorry. That's bullcrap. I spent four years and a nice chunk of change following my heart and studying what I love. I don't need to apologize to anyone, and I need to stop doing so to myself. The world can take its lack of a hoot and stuff it like a Thanksgiving turkey.
I've been thinking about the people I know. Remember in elementary school when it was exciting to shop for new clothes, to pick out the perfect Trapper Keeper and fill your pencil case with perfectly sharpened Teconderoga #2 pencils, when you'd fall asleep in your new Lee Dungarees and LA Gear sneaks? Who does that as an adult? Everyone I know, or at least the people who immediately come to mind, pretty much wants to murder their alarm clock when it beckons them to work. Even if you like your job, I'm sure there's some part of you that is a little sad. I'm a writer. I will never stop being a writer, no matter what I do 9-5. But there is still that hunger to want to go to sleep at night, proud of what I've done, so that when people ask me what I do, I can say "I ______," and I can honestly mean it when I smile and say, "It's great."
Which brings me to another point, another global phenomenon. Why are we defined by what we
do? The mythical
do. When someone asks you what you do, they want to know what your job is, what your title is, what kind of car do drive, and how many people work under you? I never know quite how to handle this question of
what I do. I do a lot. Don't try and cram me into a one-word definition. But all the same, when I ask myself that question, I'm blank.
I spoke with a friend and former roommate earlier this evening, and she just reinforced what I've been feeling about a "wasted degree." She has a BS in psychology, and is attempting to pursue her masters and enroll in a PhD program. The area she wants to study, however, will not provide the job market or the paycheck she'd need; she even said after going through the programs, the degree wouldn't even pay for itself. It's this kind of conversation that makes me wonder why there is so much emphasis on college, and why people go. So few of us graduate and actually move into the fields we studied to enter, or at least find work that means something to us. Everywhere requires some kind of degree, but I feel like job opportunities are either so generalized that a specific degree doesn't matter (as long as you have one to your name), or the job is so specific that you're chasing it your whole life only to skirt around it on the peripherals. Bachelors degrees seem to be a dime a dozen now, and so the push is toward the Masters. Eventually everyone will a Dr. Jon/Jane Smith, and then what? Will someone have to create an even higher degree just to keep the hierarchy going?
The point I'm trying to make is that I'm very disillusioned with this whole growing up thing, but for reasons I think are unique to my generation and those immediately surrounding it. We are graduating into really shaky times, times where the trades are no longer enough. It used to be that a man (pardon the sexism for a minute) would work his ass off in some labor-intensive job all day to support his family. Higher education, often past grade school, wasn't common. That man would come home with the pride that comes from knowing what he did mattered. What a man did, he often did until he died, usually as the result of that occupation. What a man's father did, he did, and so one. Family business meant something. My generation faces the opposite: it's alarming that five career changes is considered standard now. And more and more kids are pushing against their family business. Dad pushes son to be a doctor just like him; son joins a rock band to push back and away. Mom wants more for her daughter; daughter winds up just like Mom anyway. These are exteme examples, I know. But I need extreme to try and get across what I feel.
Where is the fulfilling work? Why are we measured in salary, and why are job interviews all about settling? When did we stop believing we can achieve our ultimate goals? I know part of me has accepted I will spend most of my life settling. And that disturbs me more than anything else.
That is the new American reality.
Chia Milk...? When your dairy sprouts a kitteh, methinks it's past its prime.
Nathalie and I at cocktail hour. Nom.
You has comfy literachur.
...would've been a perfect pic if in addition to red-eye removal they had blue-eye removal. But it's cute all the same!
With his favorite mousy toy, Hamlet contemplates his prey.
And now, I present a Shakespeare in the Bathroom production: Hamlet.
