• In Praise of the Moderately Interesting Job

    During recent conversations with a 22-year-old, a 30-year-old, and several mothers of millennial and Gen Z adults, I’ve become aware of a phenomenon affecting many young adults: dismay, disappointment, and a persistent sense of failure at not having a job they’re passionate about.

    I’ve heard hints of this from the millennials in my life, but Anne Helen Peterson’s book, Can’t Even: How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation, crystalized my understanding, especially her chapter, “Do What You Love and You’ll Still Work Every Day for the Rest of Your Life.” Her book discusses in depth how cultural definitions of success and workplace expectations have become impossible to achieve, which leads to burnout.

    I’ve zeroed in on one of her observations—the fallacy that if you work hard, go to a good college, engage in lots of extracurriculars and internships, and are passionate about your work, you’ll land a wonderful satisfying job. What too many people are discovering is that fulfilling jobs you can be passionate about are rare. Unfortunately, American culture has made “being passionate about work” seem like a realistic goal. In short, young adults have been conned. 

    When faced with the realization they aren’t passionate about their jobs and can’t even imagine a job they would be passionate about, they feel like losers. Hidden in the language of “passionate about work” is the warped premise that you are your job. This frustrates and saddens me. Why have we foisted ridiculous standards like “Do what you love and you’ll never work another day in your life” and “Don’t settle for less” on workers? 

    I liked the work I did and occasionally I was passionate about a project, but most of the time my work as a marketing communications copywriter could be called a Moderately Interesting Job. My passions (insofar as I’d use the overblown word, “passion” to describe anything I do) lie elsewhere. Some people are passionate about their work and I applaud them, but far more people are not. Work is just work, and that’s a totally valid view.

    I’m definitely NOT advocating that people should aspire to crummy jobs in which the pay is low, the schedule is erratic, there’s no opportunity to advance, and benefits are nonexistent. For decades, too many American employers have gotten away with treating employees poorly. I have a great deal of sympathy and respect for people who are walking away from that work.

    But if I were queen of the world, I’d characterize work as one potentially fulfilling aspect of your life, a necessity, but not what defines a person’s worth. Often what people are passionate about exists away from the job. You can’t make a living being a sports fan, enjoying the outdoors, or spending time with family and friends. If those activities make you happy, they’re a success—they don’t have to be lucrative. 

    If I could, I’d retool American culture’s expectations about work. To me, Moderately Interesting Work or Uninspiring Work with Fun Coworkers or The Job You Don’t Mind Doing are worthy goals. Achievable. Feel free to find your passion elsewhere!

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    10 responses to “In Praise of the Moderately Interesting Job”

    1. Luanne Avatar

      Ellen, this is brilliant. I so agree with it. Didn’t there used to be a book called something like, Do what you love and the money will follow? I feel that that is the philosophy that has been promoted since the 80s really. And I’m sorry but it just doesn’t work that way. Maybe the best jobs are a sort of compromise where one can use skills they may have developed from one’s passions, but need to develop new skills as well and blend them together.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Thanks! I think we’ve done people a disservice with “Do what you love and the money will follow” and “You can be anything you want.” But the latter is a different rant. 😉

        1. Luanne Avatar

          Yes, it is, but I agree with that one, as well! No! You can’t! You should set your goals with starry eyes and a dose of realism.

        2. Ellen Shriner Avatar

          Exactly! I was never going to be a ballet dancer! 😆

    2. Bev Bachel Avatar

      I’ve invested far too much of my life in work…and find myself doing so even now. Am lucky that so much of my work has involved learning new things, which is something I value. Yet, If I had to do it over, I would work less. And ask to be paid more.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        I liked really working (most of the time) and it meant a lot to me, but what I’m advocating is more sense of perspective— your work can define you/be your passion, but it’s OK if it doesn’t. Ditto on paid more though!

    3. Ann Coleman Avatar

      I think you’re right, this generation has set their expectations impossibly high, aided mostly by what they’ve been taught. I remember what my grandfather said about starting his dental practice during the Great Depression. He was just happy that he was able to go right to work during such hard times, and earn enough money to support his family. The idea that he should absolutely love his work never even crossed his mind! I’m passionate about writing, but I’ve never made enough money at it to pay all my bills….or even 1/10th of them. So I wrote on the side, and worked at a regular job in order to help support my husband and I. I think we have done young people a disservice to let them believe that if they worked hard enough in school and did all the right things, they’d automatically have a career they love. No wonder they’re struggling!

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        I was surprised to realize how widespread this perception is. Like youI pursued creative writing on the side. Marketing communications helped pay the bills.

    4. Eliza Waters Avatar

      I really feel for the latest generation… I’m glad I’m not wading through what they are. Too much information, and much of it useless in navigating life. God bless ’em!

  • She’s in the Book

    On page 7, Crystel wrote, Are you skimming through this? I would have flown through the 421 pages of Khaled Hosseini’s novel, And The Mountains Echoed or flipped to the back of the book and started reading to the front. Her notation stopped me.  

    She had made it impossible. The book was a birthday gift from her. More significantly, throughout the book she underlined, drew pictures, commented, and gave of herself. How could I skim one single page when I could miss a piece of her? Her insights. Her thoughts. Her feelings.

    On page 2 she underlined, cause he had a family that he cherished above all things. A paragraph later next to, Baba Ayub privately had a unique fondness for one among them, his youngest, she teased, just like you.

    My daughter brought me along on her personal journey and in essence we were reading the book together.

    At times she encouraged, Don’t cry, mom and Don’t panic, mom on difficult passages such as when Father hit Abdullah.

    Sometimes she questioned But why? Or guessed, I bet he’s gonna leave them or something.

    She compared the book to her own life. Shuja the dog was our Sadie. About Kabul, she wrote, Kinda picturing Guatemala.

    Her frustration showed, Soooo many diff. names. IDK who is who! and, So we are just gonna forget about the vanished girl?

    I began to read the novel to unearth her and understand her inner world.  

    After, Father went after Shuja with a stick, wasI am sobbing.

    I would be both LOL but also amazed and touched she wrote when Nabi discovered that Mr. Wahdati was sketching him.

    She entertained me with her own sketches of a sleeping cow, trees, a duck, cars, eyeballs, and the devil.

    My birthday is a few weeks after Crystel left for college. When I picked the book up in the evening, it staved off the heartache. Emotionally I was with her. What a gift!

    It was easier with Mother – always had been – less complicated, less treacherous. I didn’t have to be on guard much. I didn’t have to watch what I said all the time for fear of inflicting a wound. A sketch of a little heart floated on the side of the page.

    I snapped a photo of the passage she had underlined and texted it to her. Let her know that I heard her. That finna be us, she responded, with a couple of emojis. I know! I answered. Making a vow to always be there for her, a promise that only our hearts could hear.

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    6 responses to “She’s in the Book”

    1. Carol Avatar
      Carol

      I love reading your posts. You’re a special lady!

      1. Elizabeth di Grazia Avatar
        Elizabeth di Grazia

        Thank you so much, Carol. You honor me by reading.

    2. Bev Bachel Avatar

      Makes me wish I was taking the time to do this with one of my sisters. It would be another great way to share our love of books. In fact, I think I’ll try it out by filling a book with my own notes and gifting it to her this Christmas.

      1. Elizabeth di Grazia Avatar
        Elizabeth di Grazia

        Jody and I are currently writing in a book for Crystel that we will gift her. It is a great way so share musings.

    3. Karen Martha Avatar

      What a very clever and loving thing to do!

  • Hiding Out

    Porcelain, cardboard, tin, and plastic Jack o’ lanterns grin from a ledge in the laundry room. I moved them to the basement the morning after Halloween along with candy corn lights and a gauzy witch that cackles when someone walks past. Here’s my sad secret, Halloween is nowhere near my favorite holiday. I find it kind of scary for other reasons.

    In Luxemburg, WI there was no trick or treating. We wore our costumes to school and at night a parade happened on Main Street. Candy and substantial treats were thrown from the town’s firetrucks. Many of the town’s 400 or so residents, including many who drove in from their farms, stood on the sidewalk to collect the goodies.  Then everyone joined the parade for about a six block walk to where a bonfire burned at the fairgrounds. Adults and kids partied and danced way after a school night’s normal bedtime.

    When we moved to Milwaukee my mother declared her children were not going to ring strangers’ doorbells to beg for candy. She called the city’s Halloween traditions dangerous. And she wasn’t going to encourage others to ring our doorbell. So instead of a parade or walking the neighborhood with other kids, our parents took us to a shopping mall for the special treat of dinner out. If stores offered a treat bag, we were allowed to accept. 

    My brother managed to weasel out of the family outing after a couple of years. He claimed he was going to help a friend distribute candy so the parents could walk with younger siblings. I snuck out one year with a girlfriend whose mother called to invite me to a sleepover party. It was a ruse because they felt so bad that I had not experienced the joy of running around in the dark with a pillowcase to collect candy. 

    Only I didn’t really find it all that fun. I heard my mother’s disgust with kids begging for candy and caution about the city’s danger. I was kind of afraid of scary costumes and decorations. I worried my parents would drive around the neighborhood and recognize a cheerleader wearing white tennis shoes as their daughter. By high school Halloween parties frequently included booze or pot which weren’t my thing.

    Fortunately, I was great at disguising my fear of Halloween from our children who adored the holiday. A granddaughter’s enthusiastic participation in anything connected to Halloween is awesome. I still decorate and usually keep a treat bowl filled, but I’m more comfortable spending Halloween in the basement reading a book.  

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