are not Katherine Heigl movies — and other tough-love post-graduation advice.
Editor’s note: After went live last week, we received many responses, some in agreement with the author and others that offered a completely different perspective. Here’s one smart take.
It’s graduation season, when colleges nationwide deliver one final flying roundhouse kick to the face of heavily indebted students by making them shell out $80 for one-time-use robes and hats.
Downer? Yes. Now let me add to it: for nearly everyone I know, leaving college was uncomfortable, often profoundly so. This is a time of change, after all, and change is tough.
And while today’s underemployed graduates may hear a lot of spiels about , there is always room for more practical advice.
So here are a few other thoughts on how to navigate an economic mess of a post-college working world:
1. Being nice to (or just ignoring) the 1 percent will keep you sane
No, not the 1 percent of people who earn like 542 percent of the nation’s earnings, as we keep hearing on the news. I’m talking about the slim minority of grads who immediately move into solid, fulfilling careers.
These rare specimens don’t just land on their feet after college. They dismount with a double-twisting handspring and quadruple somersault, then stick that landing and throw up their hands and throw back their heads while the crowd waves mini American flags.
Good for them.
You’re leaving this relatively egalitarian college world, where everyone lives in the same dorms and dining halls and classrooms, being graded on the same curves. But in the , some of these people will immediately be successful and Good at Life. Others will not.
I beg you, put on your blinders. If you are still one of those competitive people who compare themselves to everyone, stop.
Because when you see on Facebook that that pretentious guy with the dreads and hot pink Crocs who was in your anthro seminar has released a book of poetry at 22, it will make you crazy.
And that’s not the worst of it; seeing your best friends immediately while you desperately search could make you even crazier. So before your competitive self lets bitterness gnaw all of her friendships to death, take a deep breath and give your BFFs a hug, because they are lovely people. Then get back to your own life.
2. Money CAN buy happiness
My first big post-college choice was to either tutor underprivileged high schoolers with a service corps or to take the only other job I could find, as a “legal assistant” (read: deceased-debt collector), where I would call people and say something like:
“I am sorry for your loss. I am also sorry that Aunt Geraldine died with $8,600 on her Home Depot Mastercard. So how’s her estate looking?”
The choice really was (a) food stamps, a perpetual scramble for babysitting gigs and still not making rent, or (b) hating work but getting by, with enough to spare for the occasional 24-rack of Diet Coke.
I chose (b).
For some people, (a) would have been fine. But as miserable as I was being a “legal assistant,” I would have also felt miserable, PLUS helpless and alone, living on dry ramen shards and begging my parents for cash.
The point: doing meaningful work may be good for your soul, but you can only do so much meaningful work (something like 20 minutes’ worth, I’m guessing) if you aren’t eating. You’re not selling out by looking for a first job that actually pays, rather than working for pocket change or . And if you simply insist on feeling like you’re selling out anyway, volunteer in your free time.
2.5. Independence is an accomplishment
This is a corollary to No. 2. Let’s say you aren’t rocking the world’s socks off yet, but you are pulling through as a cashier/dogwalker/debt collector.
Did you just pay the deposit on your first lease? Did you make your first ? Yes? Go buy yourself a beer. You are becoming independent. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t particularly enjoy earning that money.
Maybe the broader point here – and really, tattoo this on your forehead so you can see it every time you look in the mirror for forever – is this: You are not your job.
Repeat after me: You are not your job.
Good. Never forget it.
3. are not Katherine Heigl movies
If they were, we would all be losing money.
No, seriously. People often talk about careers the way romantic : like someone sees a calculator across a crowded room and out of the blue is filled with a sense of beauty and wonderment and the knowledge that she is destined to be a CPA.
Some people feel “called” to careers. For the rest of us, it’s a , consisting of some variation on the following steps:
1) Doing Job X for a while.
2) Leaving Job X for whatever reason.
3) Seeing Job Y and saying, “Ooh! I can do that.”
4) Doing Job Y for a while.
…and repeating the process as often as necessary.
Now go get started on that.
And though you may not believe me, let me assure you: it will all be fine. And when that fine-ness happens, do a handspring and wave a mini American flag for yourself.
Danielle Kurtzleben () lives in Washington, D.C., where she works as a journalist. She has nothing against Katherine Heigl.