September 20, 2006
Posted by thomas in : xanga , 10 comments The Alumni ReportMany people use their college degrees to learn certain skills and gain qualifications in order to, at least in part, pursue a particular path of employment. Often, an attempt is made to match the skills, interests, and qualifications developed in the pursuit of a college degree with the employment sought. For example: a nurse will most likely try and get a job as a nurse rather than say…a unicycle riding circus performer or the person taking orders at the drive-through window of your local Wendys.
I am an English major. Basically English majors learn how to read and write English and analyze 17th century poems. Yet, when I looked for a job to read, write, and speak English I found that there were 341 million other people who have been reading, writing and speaking English for most of their lives and not getting paid for it at all. In fact, they do other jobs, and there seems to be a low demand for an entry level position analyzing 17th century poetry in today’s job market.
me, freshly alumni-ed
The alumni experience is a varied one. One graduates and finds oneself in this strange group of people who used to be students and are now…no longer students. Sadly graduating does not automatically make you a responsible adult with a five-year plan. Rather, it leaves some of us just as confused about the direction of our lives as when we started only now we are massively in debt so even if you don?t know what to do you know that you need to do something.
Perhaps some alumni find themselves throwing open their windows to sunshine each morning and bluebirds land on their outstretched arms to join them in a merry song greeting a new day before they head off to their perfect jobs that they find engaging, meaningful and fulfilling. Others wander to the breakfast table each day at noon in their sweatpants and have trouble understanding why their mothers burst into tears when they explain that no, they haven’t found a job yet, but their World of Warcraft character just increased his melee and ranged attack power by 600 with the acquisition of a new battleaxe. Then there are the rest of us in-between; the rest of us who along are trying to figure out what exactly this whole rest of our lives thing is supposed to look like.
As of right now, I am a landscaper. I mow lawns, I dig holes; I ponder the meaning of life as I look down the row of 96 identical housing units with their identical squares of lawn that are inhabited by almost identical little families: the fact that they as people are not completely uniform does not seem to be due to a lack of trying. I sleep solidly and get up early and appreciate a glass of water on a hot day more than I did as a student.
So what about the whole English major thing? Like, how does it matter when you?re a landscaper and if the topic of 17th century poetry comes up it leads to an awkward silence for the rest of your trip to the job site? So what about it all, what about the fact that I am now an?alumnus? I?m not so sure myself. So, every two weeks or so I?ll be writing some 500 words of reflection on my alumni-ed condition, doing my best to be witty and urbane, and maybe you can help me out with some reflection of your own. Oh, and if you are unsure what ?urbane? means you can go get yourself a four year English degree and become smugly satisfied knowing that you are no longer one of those simple folk who thinks it is merely a weird way to pronounce a word used to describe city-dwellers?or you could use a dictionary. Although you won’t feel as smug.
Winnie-the-Pooh Poetry (or how I say I love you on my birthday) September 11, 2006
Posted by thomas in : xanga , 3 commentsNow We Are Twenty-Two
(with love to A.A Milne and the older, wiser, much more beautiful 22 year old who I have finally drawn even with after languishing for seven months at sad little 21 while you surged on ahead)
Now we are twenty-two
- it took seven months to catch up to you -
Once I was six, and clever as clever,
but we can’t stay six forever and ever:
six becomes seven, which then becomes eight,
when we get to eighteen it’s already too late -
to late to remember what it’s like to be six,
to late to be playing our games of pooh-sticks.
I know you loved six, the best number of all,
so fat and so round, not skinny and tall,
but the years keep on coming, there’s no stopping time,
and upwards and over our mountain we’ll climb.
One day we may say “now we are eighty-eight”,
if we could say it together, it’d be so wonderfully great.
But for now I am glad to be twenty-two,
twenty-two is for love and for dreams, yes it’s true.
So with six far behind we shall share twenty-two,
and I am so happy to share it with you.