Never Get a "Real" Job

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Everyone Poops. Yours Isn’t Special

When our parents came of age in the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, working for “The Man” was the only game in town. Our grandparents—mostly members of the Great Depression generations for whom jobs were considered luxuries—reinforced the ideas that getting a job and working hard were essential to building a sustainable living.

Thus, the mantra was born: Work hard, get good grades, go to college, and get a job.

Before we were even born, our parents fantasized about what we would be when we grew up. They wanted things to be better for us, but in a much different way than their parents had planned for them. There was a generational divide here: To our grandparents, getting a job was a matter of survival. But our parents wanted more than survival for us—they wanted us to find our dream job and thrive. We couldn’t just get any job—they had much bigger ideas for us. They wanted us to find a cure for a disease, write the next great American novel, or become president of the United States. The possibilities seemed endless. Their expectations ran wild and knew no bounds. Before the doctor even cut our umbilical cords, we were already winners who were destined to surpass their wildest dreams—even though they had no idea what that meant or how we could even begin to make their dreams a reality.

And, then the big day arrived. You might have entered the world as an 8-pound ton-of-fun with a face that scared off the family dog, but it didn’t matter. The moment you left the womb, you were a special, perfect, one-in-a-million diamond-in-the-rough who would one day perform open-heart surgery blindfolded, while climbing Everest.

From that day forward, the world revolved around your every action. You giggled, and your parents thought it was brilliant. You rolled over, and you were amazing. When you walked, they told everyone who would listen how incredible you were. You mumbled some incoherent iteration of “mom” or “dad” that sounded more like “bus stop”—and it was life changing. Relatives would even line up to clean your diaper just to get a whiff of your majestic, rosy fragranced poop.

And the adoration didn’t end at infancy.

It was time to call the NBA when you almost hit that foul shot during your fourth-grade basketball scrimmage. Graduating from middle school was a crowning achievement. And when you made your singing debut in the high school musical’s background ensemble, your parents swore that you were on your way to Broadway.

For years, your parents, teachers, and MTV blew smoke up your ass at every turn. You were showered with undeserved accolades, encouraged to aspire to unrealistic goals, and praised for exaggerated achievements. You were the unwitting victim of a coddling culture fated to screw up your perception of reality.

No matter how pathetic the award or how asinine the proverb, you bought into it all, hook, line, and sinker. You were so busy riding the Everyone-Is-a-Winner bandwagon that you failed to realize that you were being rewarded for mediocrity—or worse, out of pity. Your parents put you on a teetering pedestal, instead of providing you a strong and realistic foundation for the rest of your life. Encouraging you to aim high is one thing, but by keeping you from feeling the sting of failure—and not allowing you space to fend for yourself independently—your parents, teachers, and coaches unknowingly set you up to be a weak, ineffectual person, unprepared for adulthood.

COLLEGE: THE DRUNKEN ROAD TO EASY STREET

From your time in the cradle, up to high school graduation, you were likely force-fed everything from Sesame Street to SAT prep courses. You were pushed to read faster, be smarter, and raise your GPA in the hopes that one day you’d be accepted into a top-rated college—and that would set you up for life.

But rather than instilling the desire to pursue a “real” job, college taught you to hate them. Most professors were open-minded thought leaders who encouraged discussion. Unlike the mandated dress codes in primary and secondary schools, college promoted a sense of individuality and expression. No one dictated where or how you worked, as long as you got the work done. Cheating or achieving grades so low that teachers began to question whether you had a pulse were two of very few reasons you might be expelled—which were better odds than hoping for job security.

When you did manage to find the time to pay attention or even make it to class, you probably realized that your classes weren’t offering you the critical skills necessary for the real world. College courses seemed to train you for the same mythical dream job your parents desired for you. There were no lectures on corporate hierarchy, filing documents, or answering phones. When you weren’t wasting time taking classes that were about as useful as a screen door on a submarine, you were receiving a high-level education that taught you how to do your eventual employer’s job, not the remedial tasks of his entry-level assistant. Simply put, you were told what to think—not how to think.

Instead of breaking free from the system and taking control of your own life, you took the easy road. You decided to allow your perception of reality to remain warped, because you knew you had a reward just waiting to be cashed in. Your BS in BS was your meal ticket to superior job placement and untold riches.

Or so you thought.

DUDE, WHERE’S MY DREAM JOB?

The years passed by so fast that before you knew it, you were finishing up your senior year of college. In a few short months you’d be pants-less, wearing a cap and gown, accepting a six-figure sheet of oak tag, and finding yourself one step closer to retirement by thirty. All of the B− term papers and drunken debauchery was finally going to pay off. It was time to get paid!

You typed up your resume in 12-point Times New Roman with your name centered at the top in bold caps. You grossly exaggerated your internship experience and gave yourself the title of VP of Operations, Marketing, and Accounting. You printed the document on 110-pound scented yellow stationery and—along with your formulaic cover letter—proudly handed the completed package to your career development counselor for her seal of approval. I’m sure there was a tear in his or her eye. You then proceeded to send resumes to all of the best employers you could find on the Web. The excitement was palpable. It was time to accept your dream job.

A few weeks went by, and you didn’t hear anything—but you didn’t let that scare you. You had an accredited degree. But still, where was the harm in hedging your bets? So you sent out 10 more resumes.

A few more weeks passed. No responses.

No problem, though, right? It was only a matter of time before someone contacted you to schedule an interview. After all, you followed your life plan to the decimal. You got good grades, and were accepted into college—now the next step was to get the job of your dreams. Right? But just to be sure, you sent out a few more resumes. Not too many. Just 75 or so . . . you know, to be on the safe side.

There’s a good possibility that if you graduated several years ago, you applied for a bunch of corporate gigs and still haven’t heard back from any employers. You’re not alone. Juan Somavia, the Director-General of the UN International Labour Organization, has recently announced that global youth unemployment has hit its highest levels ever, with 81 million young people unemployed worldwide. According to a 2009 National Association of Colleges and Employers study, 80 percent of college graduates who were looking for jobs couldn’t find one. The Economic Policy Institute recently announced that the class of 2010 faces the worse job market in a generation, with the Bureau of Labor Statistics putting unemployment among 19- to 24-year-olds over 15 percent. Even more disturbing is the recent study by the Pew Research Center indicating that nearly 40 percent of all 18- to 29-year-olds have either been unemployed or underemployed at some point since December 2007.

If you did hear from a potential employer, there’s a fairly good chance you were denied a position because you were either underqualified for the jobs you wanted or overqualified for the jobs you applied for “just to make ends meet.” It didn’t matter if you had a degree in electrical engineering—you’d be lucky to get an executive assistant gig at a corporate event planning company, if you got a job at all.

But there is a silver lining. You’re now a card-carrying member of the Boomerang Club: The first generation in history to attend college only to move back in with dear old mom and dad afterward because you’re broke, unemployed, and in debt up to your eyeballs.

Hooray for living the dream!

I’m sure this is exactly how you envisioned your postcollegiate life.

WELCOME TO YOUR “REAL” JOB, MR. JANITOR

Maybe you were “fortunate” and did manage to land a job after college. However, chances are that whatever you’re currently doing was not your first choice. It’s probably not even your 10th or 20th choice. Heck, it’s probably not even your 100th choice. Instead of being hired as the vice president of fashion design at Ralph Lauren, you most likely accepted a receptionist gig at...