A Sad End to the Summer
The idea that young people don't want to work is a myth. The exception, i.e. he who is content to lay about the house, playing video games and soaking up cheap beer, is the idiotic exception. In a generation that is defined almost completely by consumerism, work is a necessity not only to attain one's economic desires, but also to give outline to an otherwise vaporous form. My generation needs to work, we need money to pay for things, but we also need jobs, especially during the summer, in order to give a sense of structure and purpose to our August days.
Of course, when we get off school for summer break, those of us with parental subsidies look forward to the idea of having nothing to do as wonderful. Infinite afternoons on the patio, book propped open with a finger of Scotch. But as people begin to get jobs and leave the patio one by one, the feeling of those of us remaining unemployed is akin to the stragglers at a party.
Suddenly, doing nothing all day isn't as much fun as it is…pathetic. In the evenings, the unemployed youth feel a certain shame as their friends talk about their days at work. The question, “What did you do today?” is a dreaded one, because while the answer “I stayed at home and read,” may incite envy among those who spent it as a barrista making minimum wage, it’s not a point of pride for the stay-at-home student. Even if he doesn’t admit it, he wishes he could wake up early the next morning and do something “constructive” with his day.
But it isn't only the boredom involved. It's also the money he now desperately needs. The rosy limbo of summer has passed and the harsh realities of having to pay rent and buy groceries overshadow the idea of spending money on the frivolous things of the season. Parental subsidies only go so far. As does parental patience with idle children.
Boredom and embarrassment are suddenly replaced by a constant fear. It might sound trite to say, but for the semi-supported student in the summer, strength, confidence, joie-de-vivre, all deplete in accordance with the dollars and cents of one's bank account. On more than one occasion, I've had friends tell me they didn't want to check their balances for fear they'd have less than they thought. As the weeks go by and one doesn't get callbacks for summer work, a series of emotions come into play: 1. Disappointment; 2. Self-doubt; 3. Sadness; 4. Anger. And when I say anger, I don't mean only at the economy or Human Resources, but at one's employed peers. There is no quicker way for a young man to become unpleasant than when he sees his friends spend money he doesn't have.
And when the jobs, as the handful I've been writing about, do come about for students, the change isn't ideal. The difference between the applying student and the replied-to student is more than minimum wage. While the former undergoes bouts of sadness and frustration and fear that he may have to return home for the summer, the latter, at first content with having a paying job, quickly realizes how sad of a state he is in. Partly, this has to do with his co-workers.
When a group of my friends, all employed in the same call center for a telecommunications company had gotten together, one of them said, “You know, if the company fired, like, 12 people and replaced them with the guys in the frat house, we'd be so much more successful.” Students and recent graduates, with the jobs many of them are finding today, are being lumped in with past generations of the under-qualified, the uneducated, and the degree-less. There is a feeling of frustration and almost embarrassment running through students today when they have to work alongside someone who can barely speak English.
The other option for the college student is the internship. These invoke a certain respect within our generation. "No I am not making money," the intern insists, "but I'm laying down the groundwork for a successful future."
Less than a generation ago, the idea of talented, skilled youth applying for free work would seem ridiculous. Yet it’s now a lofty goal which, presently, is drifting further and further away to the sunset. The fact of the matter is that in this economy, even applying for free work is proving to be difficult. I recently met a young woman who’d graduated from the University of Toronto and who’d had a successful string of internships in the past. But this summer, she hasn't been able to find work. Even more depressing for her is that she isn't even deemed fit for another internship. She turned to being a telemarketer, and literally the day after being hired, was fired. Needless to say, she was furious.
You can say this anger is due to my generation's sense of entitlement and having been “spoiled,” but when one looks at the objective numbers, we are, to a certain degree, right in feeling this anger. As been said by many before me, we spend thousands of dollars on tuition. We buy books for hundreds of dollars and then are told by the professor we only need to read one chapter from them. We slave in the pursuit of two, three letters after our names, and after all the seemingly-realistic hopes, are put in a room with people with so many names, they wouldn't fit on a community college diploma.
Maybe I sound callous, and even to a degree intolerant. But at the end of the day, my generation has put in the work, some more than others, but cannot reap the benefits due to external factors that are so beyond our control, that making a change seems nearly impossible.
Yet, with all the frustration and disappointments my generation is currently feeling in the industry, there may be something to take away from it. While what I consider is menial work may be "good" work for the poor immigrant, for us, these lousy jobs may prove to be somewhat "character-building." (“That which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,” says Nietzche and consoling parents, though I have a hard time imagining how selling newspapers over the phone translates into thicker skin.)
Our generation is, for the most part, one that hasn't ever had to get its hands dirty or do what some people call, "honest work." It might be heartbreaking, yes, it might be depressing and demeaning, yes. But to a certain degree, it humbles us and whether we like it or not, helps us realize how much better we have it than someone like Kotar from Ghana, or the cab driver who picks you up from the restaurant where you have just dropped his nightly after-tax wages on drinks. Some may even argue that it educates us for the jerks and horrible bosses we will inevitably encounter even in sought-after careers. It’s good to learn early how to deal with these people. And it is strengthens us by humbling us. That being said, it remains to be seen if humility will help us pay our student debt.
It says a lot about the economy when students look forward to the return of classes. I am amongst them, partly to learn, partly to do something that doesn't involve coarse labor, terrible hours, or pathetic pay. The upcoming semester acts as a sort of two-pronged attack for students who are about to go into their senior year: We will receive our degrees and, in the meantime, the economy will even itself out, we hope. It's an optimistic way to look at things, but at the same time, when one is falling down the pit of student debt, there is no room for skepticism, or even dread.
We must make the best of things while we're still within the cozy cocoon of academia (noting that many will never have entry into such a sanctuary) and continue to tell ourselves that, “Yes, if I can get an A+ on this paper about Fichte, I will be guaranteed a job; because these things matter.” It's a stupid thing to think, but at the same time, what else are we expected to do this far down the road of our futures?
