Now, I don't know about you, but for me--and I suspect for most people who live and (are trying to) work these days--I find that my perspective has shifted dramatically from wherever it might have been four or five years ago. When I graduated from high school I gave little thought to the grander idea of my occupational future. And even for the duration of my time in college I spent far more time worrying about one man's opinion of my ability to convey a literary analysis of Shakespeare from mind to MLA-formatted page than I ever did about such "trivialities" as polishing my resume, practicing interviewing strategies, or considering future career options for myself.
But is shortsightedness to blame for my current situation? Or it is perhaps a question of ambition? For, in point of fact, that is one virtue I never was very good at harnessing. I told myself that the people on the top of the heap were not the kind of people I wanted to be, and that things like power and prestige bring more trouble than they are worth anyway. And for the most part, I still believe this to be true. But I do wish I had flushed out at least a dash more zeal in the past, if only to get me from this bizarre "point a1" to wherever the hell it is I'm meant to be next, for while I may have ignored the whole "future," "job," "design you life NOW" memo whilst in school, I have but little choice to face it at the moment.
Although, in all fairness, there is very little wrong with my current location, be in geographically, emotionally, or even financially. I suppose it is simply that I am beginning to question things like "value" and "worth" and the elusive idea of "enough." I'll give you an example. Even before I graduated from Whitworth it was becoming clear that jobs were somewhat thin on the ground in almost every sector, and all the more so for students and recent grads with no experience. Thus, in my junior year, I resolved to find a summer job in Spokane, hoping for something a little better than the nothing I knew would be waiting for me back home. I applied for lots of jobs and ended up working for Whitworth's Grounds Department out of sheer luck, a job which I happily returned to the following summer. It was work in the most glorious and honest sense. I was forced to disobey my natural inclination to sleep in, due to early working hours. I spent eight hours a day out of doors, usually digging. I would come home from work dirty, dog-tired, and quite often elated. The execution of tasks and the satisfaction I felt upon their completion made the physical hardship well worth the effort. The knowledge that I had pleased others through the doing made it gratifying. (And driving around listening to music and the constant presence of purple spray paint didn't hurt either.) I guess my point is that, for a time, I felt I had a worth-while, measurable purpose that was manifested through my work. And, as such, I felt that I had earned the compensation I received in the doing.
From what I've heard and read and seen first hand, it is quite rare indeed to find a situation wherein fulfillment in one's work and satisfaction with one's income are compatible with one another. Just look at virtually any public school teacher in America today. Most are in the business because they love at least some aspect of what they do--let's be honest, who would do it if they didn't?--and yet nearly all work overtime for no additional pay. In my opinion, there is a job that does not produce the desired proportions of gratification to the amount of work put in, nor to the amount of compensation earned.
And trust me, I know I'm coming at this with rose-tinted glasses, but I still think someone aught to ask the question--Why the HELL do Americans (more so than most other Western nationalities) work themselves to death for longer days, lower median living wages, and some of the shortest vacation periods in the developed working world when in fact, "only 45 percent of Americans are satisfied with their work" in the first place?! An article published by CBS in January of 2010 stated that, according to the previous year's data, "Roughly 64 percent of workers under 25 say they were unhappy in their jobs." And this coming from the 89 percent who were lucky enough to be employed at the time!
I just don't get it. If we spend a third of our adult lives working, why is it that a great many work environments are so unpleasant? Am I so very naive and wrong to hope that my future occupation is one that is both personally gratifying and monetarily sufficient? Is it really so very impossible to achieve a true sense of self-worth from one's career and still pay the bills?
Because at the moment I am lacking in both departments. And while it is true that $4.00 an hour is better than nothing at all, and that working does gives me something to do with my day besides surfing the internet, I have come to believe that I am worth more than four dollars an hour. I believe that any job I have in the future should be a place of openness and honesty. The work I do should generate growth and edification. The hours committed and the quality of the craft should be reflected in the pay. Passion and commitment should be acknowledged and rewarded. Coworkers should show respect and courtesy to one another, seeking to build each other up and never to tear down. And, if possible, all work should result in the acquisition of a greater sense of self-worth than that which one had before the doing. Though, I suppose that if I received all of the above from a single occupation I'd have nothing left to strive for--and then where would I be?
Thus, the next step in my personal "I Could Never..." Project is to seek out the next occupation, however elusive, that will increase rather than decrease my levels of self-worth. The hunt is on.
