Reality Cheque: Learn to Earn When Approaching 30

Christmas has passed and a new year is on the horizon, causing everyone to trade their Christmas lists for a list of New Year’s resolutions.

Young professionals — or those approaching 30, like myself — maybe be putting “grad school” on their lists, but like any well made decision, it requires a prerequisite: research. When deciding our majors as undergrads, we went with our hearts (speaking to all liberal arts majors) and we spun our passions into careers.

But after working holidays and long hours for little to no pay, many of us are now likely to be led more by our heads than our hearts when deciding what to study in graduate school. After realizing that your chosen profession can actually cause you to go into debt because it cannot support even the most meager lifestyle, you’re going to gain an entirely different perspective on work, life and your place in it all. (Trust me.)

Image provided by taxlady23.com.

A powerful Charles Bukowski quote that inspired many to follow their dreams:

“How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 8:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?”

I felt differently about Bukowski’s ideology on work when I was an undergrad in my early 20s — a lot differently. As an undergrad, the motivation for earning my BA was my belief that it would save me from waiting tables for a lifetime. I was also admittedly insecure and my poor self-esteem led me to believe I wasn’t smart enough to study anything that was math or science intensive.

I felt I’d be lucky to earn any degree at all. And beyond lucky to be a writer, which I’d wanted to be since I learned to write at age 5. But, not all degrees are created equal. Not by a long shot.

As a journalism undergrad, I knew that I’d make very little money compared to my peers who studied engineering or nursing or literally any other subject. It’s not as if we weren’t told. We were told by professors, faculty advisors, and professionals in the field who visited campus to talk to us younglings. But what I misunderstood was the meaning of “very little money.”

As an undergrad, I just thought that meant that I wouldn’t be able to afford the finer things in life, like a vacation in St. Barts or a vehicle that was made in the 21st Century. I just thought it meant I would have to forsake luxuries afforded to everyone else with a four-year degree.

What I now know as a working professional who’s been in the field for a handful of years is that “very little money” meant I would never be free of money woes and would constantly fear complete annihilation and homelessness. It meant that, at times, I would be living below the federal poverty level and would not be able to afford health insurance. It meant that I would have to get the levothyroxine I require everyday from pharmacies in Mexico because I can’t afford to see a doctor in the U.S. who could prescribe it to me. It meant I wouldn’t be able to afford a flight to see my family for Christmas. It meant I wouldn’t be able to pay the funeral costs when a family member died unexpectedly.

I feel differently about Bukowski’s ideologies on work now because I’ve come to understand that his point of view is afforded to those who can afford it.

He isn’t wrong — making money for somebody else is likely no one’s dream, and I’m not saying it should be. Owning your own business and making money for yourself is more gratifying, I agree. But what’s not understood is that Bukowski wrote what he wrote because he no longer had to worry about money.

He became a published writer after nearly 20 years of working for the postal service, and then began to make his living by the pen. Bukowski could write off work as something that adds no value to the experience of living because he no longer had a need for it. His writing was sustaining him, so he could adopt a “f**k that” attitude.

Those who can adopt a “f**k that” attitude to work are privileged just in so doing. Bukowski didn’t like working, as so many don’t, but what young or privileged minds fail to realize is that yes, work sucks, but work is what sustained Bukowski until he became Bukowski.

Meaning, work kept him alive and kept him fed until he could become the writer he became. And work, with all of its ability to suck, gave Bukowski inspiration. Work added to his literary voice, kept him fed, and gave him perspective.

Had he never had to work, he may not have seen the prospect of writing as anything of value. Had he never had to work, writing might have been what he saw as tiresome and suffocating; writing might have been the work he loathed. Because, of course, what is light without darkness to compare it to. Bukowski found freedom in writing because he worked menial, unfulfilling jobs.

The perspective I have now on work is that it indeed is a blessing, especially if it’s soul-draining work. As a writer, experiences are my bread and butter. And stories of overcoming adversity or enduring hardship are the stories people want to read. Had things gone perfectly and I was given my dream with little to no effort, I wouldn’t have anything meaningful to write about.

Today, I know that work is a blessing if it pays enough to allow you to feed, clothe and shelter yourself, and gives you access to adequate health care. Work is a blessing is it gives you all this and gives you a decent amount of time off, which would allow you to focus on giving life to your dreams. A crap job is a means to an end and, in the end, it isn’t all that crappy if it helps to further you.

No one should be in a job they hate for a lifetime, but it’s okay to be there for a moment. You’ll look back on the rough times you had and you’ll be glad you didn’t give up; you’ll be glad you were able to pay your rent when you needed to and that you kept trucking until you got out of unfulfilling work and into what you love doing.

The peers I have now — lawyers, financial advisors, and a soon-to-be pharmacist — understood the need to choose a career based on facts rather than a feeling. They made themselves financially independent by choosing a career in which bodies are needed, and then went on to put themselves in the arts, by writing, acting and directing.

I thought most people follow their hearts and then follow their heads, out of necessity and with a sense of defeat. But many of my peers did the opposite: they followed their heads and then their hearts, out of a desire to do so and with a joyous sense of accomplishment. So when I sit down to consider what to study in graduate school, I think of them.

I think about how the first priority for each one of us should be independence and survival. To me, independence is synonymous with freedom. Financial freedom is my first priority. Gaining any kind of notoriety for my writing is second.

Financial freedom can also be achieved by “making it,” but not everyone is able to elevate themselves to place where they don’t have to do anything except that which they love.

And it should be noted that not “making it” is not always an indicator of the quality of your art or the power of your story. More goes on behind the scenes than we realize — there’s nepotism and there’s chance. There’s being in the right place at the right time. There’s being a chum to the right person. There’s the possibility that your art is too forward thinking and won’t appeal to anyone until long after you’ve died.

Then there’s the terrible realization that it’s those with the means who are able to disseminate their art and their opinions far and wide. It isn’t necessarily the quality of your thoughts or artwork that ensures widespread exposure or succcess, but rather it’s the amount of money you have to pour into marketing or the influence you have due to the copious amount of money you have.

There’s a cornucopia of factors that contribute to anyone not being able to “make it.”

Rather than forgoing eating and living because we can’t live solely off the kind of work we love the most, its best to work a job and keeping going for the promise of another day. A job, whether it’s your dream job or not, advances you by giving you experience, paying your bills and getting you one day closer to living the kind of life you want.

A Fortune article published earlier this year listed the best and worst graduate degrees to pursue in 2015, and all 15 best grad degrees listed, save for an MBA, were in the STEM careers. Most of the worst grad degrees listed were in the arts and education. The article gives hard facts: median salary, projected job growth by 2022, the percentage of graduates who reported being satisfied, and the percentage of those who reported being stressed.

Reading these facts is part of the research that should be conducted when deciding what to study next. Having to pay bills is a reality, for most of us, and we can further our causes and our art by being individuals of means.

And furthermore, being financially stable is seen as grown up in our society, and gives weight to your efforts as an artist, writer or philanthropist.

Grad school is for advancing yourself. Advancement is achieved by doing the research and choosing a course of study based both on the facts and your personality. Facts absolutely need to be included in the decision-making process. Choose something you’re passionate about and is in demand by employers or consumers. (Invent an ergonomically-sound lawn chair, and sculpt on the weekends!)

Having access to health care is important. Choose a career that will allow you the means to receive adequate healthcare.

It’s also pretty cool to be skilled in a plethora of trades. Everyone loves a handy woman.