The Engine that Runs on...Hope.

Have you ever loved something that didn't love you back? Have you ever been told a lie so passionately and from so many different sources that you forgot it was a lie? Have you ever given 110% worth of effort to something only to find that you have ultimately harvested a fields-worth of a crop as inedible as the dirt which was supposed to nourish it?

I have worked in the field of education for several years and in various capacities all orbiting the theme of “English Teacher.” Teaching has always been a passion of mine, and the vast majority of my students have greatly appreciated my natural ability to instruct them in the intricacies of its practice. And, I have enjoyed it a great deal. I recall one of my former students, when I was a mere English tutor, asked me “When am I going to be able to take an English class from you?” Her respect for my abilities flattered me greatly. Conversely, there were other examples of when the educational field in general did not respect my abilities. The field being governed greatly by seasonal demand has left me without viable work on more than one occasion. I have tried to take this in stride as best as I can, but there is a specific example which sticks in my brain and serves to rile my anger every now and then. Recently, I came off a stint with a seasonal education company in San Francisco. When I was hired, they informed me that the position was strictly temporary, and while I was hoping that I could be one of those who made it passed the end of the season, I was not too surprised when I was called into my boss's office the week that my schedule didn't extend passed Monday. Despite my expressed interest to continue with this company, the season ended, and I was let go. That, in and of itself, would have been bad enough, but to add insult to injury, when I inquired about a letter of recommendation for all the exemplary work I had done previously with said company, I was told that they were not legally allowed to give me one. I had spent the last 2 months going above and beyond for this company, getting up at 5 am to be there often before my 8 am start time, I had spent hundreds of dollars on BART tickets for which I had not been reimbursed, and I had had students whose mood greatly elevated just by working with me, and I was tossed away like a used facial tissue without so much as a letter reflecting my hard work for this company! This, in no uncertain terms, demonstrated to me that while I love being an educator, and I love the feeling of fulfillment which I received from teaching students, it is the field of education which just doesn't love me!

It used to be that a college education was a sure-fire road to economic and personal success. But, over time, the water has re-leveled to a higher echelon of expectation, and jobs that once were guaranteed upon the graduation of the minority ratio of society who finished college are now divvied up among the overwhelming throng of graduates flooding every corner of the job market. While it is good that the expectation of society has grown more ambitious and that more people are educating themselves, in this scramble for higher graduation rates, it has become the individual who has been left out in the cold to fend for himself against the oncoming storm of as-yet unfulfilled, personal ambition.

I was granted admission into a very prominent and famous college about 2 and a half years ago. This particular University's reputation has been touted, the world over, as a prestigious institution of higher learning where completion of a degree is a graduate's "golden ticket" to economic prosperity and a happier life. Despite having been told that several times by faculty, fellow students, and prospective students of this college both preceding and all throughout my 2-year tenure there, I have found this “truth” to be the “fisherman's tale” which I had always suspected it to be. My bachelors degree hangs on my wall a symbol of the sum of about $13,000 worth of debt that I have accrued by attaining that overrated piece of parchment emblazoned with my name, which arrived in the mail a full 6 months after graduating by the way! Having spent the better part of a year, steadfastly looking in every corner of the internet, making any and every networking contact which I can hope to find, and pursuing dozens of job leads only to have them fizzle into the ephemera, I have concluded, first-hand, that there is no "golden ticket" for me. Like anything in life, success is the product of “1% inspiration and 99% perspiration,” which I have known since the age of 10.

Honestly, after all the effort which I have put into this endeavor, I'm tired. I'm tired of noncommittal recruiters, I'm tired of reading rejection e-mails that all have that “Form Letter” feel, and most of all, I'm tired of having to wait for a perfect stranger to see that I possess all the value which I KNOW that I have even if they can't see it due to their tired eyes. Upon graduating from college, I watched a college commencement speech given by the famous writer John Green. In it, he said “Your perfect job might not even exist yet.” For some reason, my mind keeps going back to that. Nothing in the way that this job market works has ever made that much sense to me for having been a member of it for nearly 16 years. I've read all of the articles on “How to get a recruiter to notice you,” and “How to polish your resume perfectly,” and “How to answer questions during an interview,” but all to no avail since I still find myself without gainful and fulfilling employment. Maybe all my competitors read all of those articles too. But still, I keep “doing the same thing and expecting different results,” ah insanity, my old friend. I wonder what the rent on the nearest padded room goes for nowadays. On second thought, I'd probably be forced to have a roommate, and they're always pretty crazy!

So, what's a man to do when he is staring mediocrity in the face with which his friend poverty has set him up on a blind date? I suppose that I could quit and give up all of my ambitions ever to improve myself, settle into the pedestrian job which I currently have, and somehow convince myself that I am happy about it. But wait, they never have the XL-sized straight jackets in a the coat room at the local mental hospital, so that's out! No, my ambition would never allow that. I'm cursed to be that arrogant bastard you know with plans to make something of himself one day. After all, in regard to myself “I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep.”