Move Out and Get a Job. Really. It's Time.

I'm not sure really why this seems particularly relevant today, but it's something that I've felt like writing about for a while. Be aware: you very well might be offended by this post. But, that said, if you are, it might be time to wake up and smell the coffee. This is reality, baby. And it aint necessarily pleasant.

It's often been said that my generation, the kids who grew up in the late eighties and nineties, are used to having everything given to them. I'm talking the kids who woke up to watch Care Bears and Inspector Gadget and played with Teddy Ruxpin and baked Creepy Crawlers. You know who you are. Not only that, but you know that a lot of you (NOT all, by any means, but a LOT, myself included) were given most things without having to work too hard for them. For example, we were always told we were winners, that we were superstars in most of our endeavors. And we were used to having things our way. It's known that people of my generation, more than those of any other, are considered whiners and people who complain when things don't go exactly their way. Experts attribute this attitude to the encouragement we received from adults, like all the trophies we all got playing sports, even when we scored in the wrong goal or had hissy-fits on the field.

In May, The New York Times published an article called "The Why-Worry Generation" by Judith Warner. (I hope it's clear that I'm just referring back to this and not that many months behind in my reading!) Honestly, I wish I could say the author's wrong in the way she portrayed us. She isn't. Overall, we are "entitled whiners who have been spoiled by parents who overtsoked [our] self-esteem, teachers who granted undeserved A's and sports coaches who bestowed trophies on any player who showed up." On the whole, we don't accept jobs that we don't consider "perfect" or "ideal," with the hours we want and the exact pay we have always expected. We tend to think our resumes are perfect, our credentials better than average and our performance stellar-- even when it's not.

Warner notes that perhaps people of my generation wait around for seemingly perfect opportunities because of their optimism, a trait usually considered positive. In this case, though, I'd argue that optimism to that degree is negative, too idealistic and, quite honestly, unrealistic. What happens when a person is so sure they'll get a great job that they're willing to wait around, not earning a living, for months (or, god forbid, years) on end?

Maybe some people call it optimism, but I call it "a cover-up for disgusting behavior." I think back to people of our parents', grandparents' and great-grandparents' generations. Did they sit home, living off of their parents' income, waiting for a job that they considered just right? Or did they take whatever job they could get, happy to be earning a living, grateful for their income which allowed for their independence?

All in all, I have to say that I'm horrified by many kids my age. There are exceptions to any rule, and I certainly understand that there are times when it's OK to be living with your parents or not earning money; daunting amounts of debt from education, illness, a tragic life crisis are all examples. But, what about the kids who are just plain lazy? The ones who turn down jobs because they're not exactly what they want? The ones who don't even bother to search for jobs in the first place because they'd rather live off of their parents until that dream position lands in their lap-- magically?

Now I'm not saying I make a lot of money (because I don't) or that I'm never the one complaining about having to go to work (because I am. Often.) But I was fortunate enough to be GIVEN an education, something I'm eternally grateful for. I'm capable of getting up to go to work every day, and so I do it-- six days per week. As a result, I'm able to pay my own rent each month, all of my bills and for all other things, both necessities and luxuries. (Sometimes, that weekly manicure or decadent sushi dinners are necessary... I think.) And you know what? It sure feels good to be independent. (I mean, don't we all want our parents to have zero hold on us? Or do we want them controlling our every move?)

So, to the people my age who don't work, don't pay their own rent or their own bills, I know it's not my business. It's not. Really. But it still annoys me and, on top of that, makes our entire generation look bad-- especially those of us who really do take care of themselves. We're not entitled to special treatment, no matter how much money our families earned and accumulated in generations past. It's not our god-given right to live off of unemployment and, really, shouldn't even be allowed unless we absolutely cannot find work. Beyond that, even if our parents are willing to give, give, give, it's NOT their responsibility. Let them enjoy their money, without having to support us. Did you ever think that maybe they have better things to use their income on than your dinners out and your expensive haircuts?

Think about it for a minute. Or an hour. Stop being lazy, Millennials. Try to do something for yourself, and then maybe even our society. Don't make hardworking people like your family members or me provide (directly or indirectly) for you. Be brave and learn how to write a rent check, pay the cable bill and grocery shop. It'll be worth it in the end. Trust me.

“Apologies” for the Past-- with a Conniving Twist

On my way to work two days ago, I was obviously reading the iPhone version of the New York Times that I had so brilliantly pre-loaded before my subway went underground. In the section that hosts the “Most Popular” articles, I touched the article on the top of the list. Turns out it was about Anita Hill, the woman who, in 1991, accused Supreme Court Justice-to-be Clarence Thomas of sexual harassment. She testified under oath that he had subjected her to comments of sexual and pornographic nature. Thomas still managed to receive the nomination to the United States’ highest court, but his ordeal with Hill has perhaps forever tainted the opinions many Americans hold toward him.

So in case you’ve been living under a rock for the past couple of days (I don’t think any of my readers are starfish or worms, but who knows...) let me inform you that Hill was back in the news because of another interesting situation. Apparently she arrived to work at Brandeis University one morning last week, only to find a voicemail waiting from Thomas’s wife, Virginia. Virginia had decided that one morning at 7:30am just 19 years after her husband’s battle against Hill would be a good time to call Hill to “make amends.” Hill, upset and concerned for obvious reasons, called campus police who later informed the FBI. But, like any girl would, she made the situation explode even further: she also called The New York Times to let them listen to the message.

“Good morning Anita Hill, it’s Ginni Thomas,” she said in the message. “I just wanted to reach across the airwaves and the years and ask you to consider something. I would love you to consider an apology sometime and some full explanation of why you did what you did with my husband.”

She went on to tell Thomas to “have a good day.”

If I were reading that out of context, I’d have assumed that Thomas were asking Hill to apologize for something that happened yesterday or maybe the day before, but not nineteen years ago. I also would have thought (rather, hoped) that someone married to someone as much in the spotlight as a Supreme Court Justice might have a little more tact and understanding in terms of which battles to pick and when.

As I went to bed that night watching the news, I realized that this situation wasn’t going to blow overly so quickly and that Virginia’s message is still reaching “across the airwaves.” Yet another newscaster was providing their commentary on the story. Now, let’s be honest. Virgina must have been able to predict that her message would have become public, and she certainly couldn’t have thought that Hill would have kept the instance private. She had to have known that this would become a rather large and well-known scandal in itself.

At least in my eyes, this is the classic scenario of not only girl-to-girl bullying, but also a pathetic cry for attention on the part of Virginia. (Likewise, we could probably argue that to some extent Hill was vying for attention by publicising the occurrence.) I would have hoped that women of their age could have matured enough to avoid not only such a public spectacle, but a public spectacle nineteen years after beginning.

But, here’s what it boils down to: sometimes apologies (or some semblance of an apology to some degree) come when you least expect it. Maybe both women were instigating their own drama, but the situation shows that people revisit the past when the timing seems unusual or random. No one knows what triggered this event, perhaps marital problems between the Thomas’s, but what matters is that the Hill-Thomas situation was revisited and, even though it involves two prominent women, they still managed to slide in a conniving and girly twist. Apparently I was wrong in thinking that women grow up. Figures.

WARNING: Parental Controls

My fifth grade teacher told my class she was glad she didn’t have kids. Being at the beach and having a toddler pulling on her bathing suit screaming that he needed to go to the bathroom repulsed her. At the time I was horrified that she’d say that to a group of ten year old students and I sort of still am. I shouldn’t have been surprised, though. She’s the same lady who told girls to not let the boys into their bodies. And boys, you shouldn’t try to get into girls’ bodies, either.

Backing up to what she first said about the beach, we all know that there’s a good chance that many parents would say they concur. In reality, though, the American parent’s overattentive and overbearing personality on the whole overshadows that. Welcome to the twenty-first century, where moms and dads can’t help but consider each and every of their child’s (potential) needs, where no aspect of a kid’s life goes without being micromanaged.

Now, I’m no where near the point in life where I’m going to have a child, knock on wood. I do, however, find it interesting that I’m not only noticing things applicable to this topic, but also seriously considering and analyzing it. If nothing more, I think that even at this age I’m starting to recognize which ways I think I should and shouldn’t parent a kid when I have one-- while at the same time recognizing how nutty so many parents really are.

Let’s take yesterday, for example. I was in Zabar’s, an amazing Upper West Side (NYC) grocery store. Now, I’m sure I was already irked because there was a line I had to push through for proscuitto samples. I had already waited in line to score a strip of fresh rye bread! (I like this store for the samples, in case you wouldn’t already tell.) Anyway, I found myself becoming even more annoyed as I overheard a pushy mother speaking to her child, and that for sure didn’t make having to wait in line any easier.

“We’re speaking Italian now, not English!” she scolded the young boy in Italian.

The kid, about four years old, wiggled in his stroller and started screaming to voice his opinion. He hates speaking Italian. He wanted to speak English.

Call me crazy, but I call this contrived. Lady, maybe you speak Italian, but it’s pretty clear that it isn’t your first language. Also obvious? You want your kid to be talented and advanced. Not brilliant, though, because that he already is. Naturally. He’s your son.

I understand the whole wanting your kid to learn a foreign language concept. I’m actually a huge proponent, especially since I’m eternally grateful that I started learning Spanish at age eleven. But really, why has our society gotten to the point that it’s OK to force your child to speak another language other than English-- in New York-- just to have a more successful year in kindergarten!?

This situation represents just one tiny example of the whole “helicopter parent” type, or those who hover over their children and their actions at all times. As I was sitting and thinking about this incident on the train this morning, I happened to come across a New York Times article that references the same idea, Students, Welcome to College. Parents, Go Home by Trip Gabriel. (See http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/23/education/23college.html). Instead of calling them “helicopter parents” as so many people have in recent years, the author calls them “velcro parents,” as if they’re glued to their kids. Also, they’re not talking about four year olds. In fact, they’re talking about kids 4.5 times their age: kids going to college.

You think that this obsessive behavior, actions that demonstrate that parents will do or say anything to make their kids the best and the happiest, would have simmered down by college. Apparently not. Such overbearing behavior lasts up until (and even through) the college years. The issue that this article brings up has to do with parents relinquishing control over their kids and how difficult they find it. I think it’s safe to assume that many of the parents that we’re talking about here are the same that insist their kids speak foreign languages while toting their sippy cups in public.

These parents don’t know where to draw the line then and they certainly don’t when they’re going to college. They don’t even know when it’s appropriate to leave and let them well... go to college. The article tells of parents who won’t leave their kid’s dorm room to let them settle down and even parents who insist on attending their kid’s first college class. Wow, that would have been an amazing way to pick up boys. Have mommy walk me to class. I'd be the most popular kid on my hall!

My point though in explaining all this is that I worry when this type of parenting will ever end. Will these kids ever not have to answer eight texts and two calls a day from their parents? Will parents ever stop controlling ever single detail of their kids’ life, or will it keep getting worse and worse and never turn back to the way it was? It sickens me to think of the (possible) extremes parents will go to in the future. I mean, if people are already controlling their children’s speech in public, what more can parents control? Who their kid flirts with, when and what pickup lines they use? People need to back off and calm down or else things are just going to get downright sicker. Your kids really will be OK if they don't speak four languages by age seven. I promise.

Legally Married... and Dating with Permission

I’ve heard some pretty interesting stories of ex-spouses over the years. People who were divorced yet would still share a bed with their (mutual) children also living in the house. Couples who split legally yet would still date and even sleep together. Personally, I thought the point of divorce was to divorce yourself from your partner, but maybe I’ve been mislead all this time.

Then there are the stories of those not actually divorced (in fact, they’re still married) yet one or both of the partners has another significant other on the side. Whoa, confusing even in writing it, no? One example in particular pops into my mind. I know of a couple who have been married for years and years. Their lengthy marriage, though, didn’t stop a third character from entering their relationship. The husband has had a longtime girlfriend, but in no way has that caused his wife to end things with him.

In fact, what has happened since the introduction of this second woman is completely counter intuitive. You’d think the wife would be horrified, right? That she’d obviously leave her husband immediately? Nope, not at all. I know you won’t believe it when I say it, but now the couple has turned into a threesome-- although I don’t mean that in the sexual way. Perhaps I really should mean in that way, but I don’t know the details in that department.

What I do know, though, is that the three are often spotted out to dinner together and sometimes show up at parties as a group. I don’t know the specifics of their arrangement and I certainly have no idea how a wife is comfortable with sharing her husband with another lady. But maybe that’s not important. If it works for them, who am I to judge?

So for the entire time that I’ve know about this situation, I had foolishly assumed that it was unique. Who would have known, though, that these people were, in essence, a product of their time, foreshadowing an up and coming trend in America?

This week, The New York Times’s Pamela Paul just published a story called The Un-Divorced. (See http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/01/fashion/01Undivorced.html). I quote the following paragraph regarding Warrn Buffet from her article-- a statement that seems to parallel the previously described scenario:

Mr. Buffett separated from his wife, Susan, in 1977 but remained married to her until her death in 2004. All the while, he lived with Astrid Menks; they married in 2006. The threesome remained close, even sending out holiday cards signed, “Warren, Susan and Astrid.”

Um... right. A holiday card from the three of them. That’s just as normal as if they were to birth a child with genes from all three of them.

Here’s another interesting one:

Jann and Jane Wenner separated in 1995 after 28 years but are still married, despite Mr. Wenner’s romantic relationship with a man.

It’s interesting to note that Wenner not only has three sons with his wife, but also another three children with his partner. Again, another situation that, at least to me, is so difficult to comprehend and rationalize that it’s difficult to type.

Now, I, for one, certainly would want to remain married and committed (legally at least) to a man who was romantically involved with another man. There’s nothing I’d want more, in fact, than to share the man I’ve committed myself to with another person. But that’s just me.

Anyway, it’s important to read the entire article to get a full picture of this current sociological trend. What I think the article provides us with, though, is an interesting commentary on the current state of living in the US.

How pathetic is it, for example, that people have to stay married just so that they can share health insurance? Or what about the fact that the legalities of divorce can be so difficult to navigate that people would rather remain components of an unhappy marriage than to deal with the obstacles of the system?

At the end of the piece, the author makes the point that “not being divorced is also an excuse not to marry.”

Touché.

Would you really have the energy in you to remarry if you had just spent decades sharing your “soulmate” with another person? At that point, I’d rather just be alone-- without any cats, thank you very much-- than to deal with marriage ever again.

Sunday Styles

People like myself are the reason that we’re all going to have to soon pay $165 per year to read The New York Times online. For those who rarely have the time or energy to sit down with a hard copy of a newspaper, our smartphones and laptops provide a quick and easy solution to getting the juice without newsprint ink on our fingers. Heck, for the amount of news I read online-- which has ultimately caused such papers to recognize potential areas of profit-- I really should earn a commission on every dollar they make. Either that or I definitely shouldn’t be paying the fee, because people like me made the fee worthwhile and valuable in the first place.

On rare occasion though, I do succumb to the joys of doing things old- school and sit down with an actual Sunday paper in hand. Usually it’s when I’m home in my childhood house, when some mysterious fairy has already placed it on the kitchen table-- right before she laid out my breakfast in front of it. Now while I normally read somewhat intelligent articles on my iPhone on the way to work, Sunday mornings at home call for a more indulgent read: The Sunday Styles.

Why, you might ask, do I automatically flip to this section? Especially coming from the girl who hates engagements and romance, how can I be so contradictory?

I think the answer is that it’s flat out enjoyable to catch a sneak peek into the lives of people we’d never otherwise encounter. As I read about Ms. Yale University the biochemistry graduate whose father is a world renowned cardiologist, I consider how bizarre her conversations with her Harvard philosophy major husband must be. Do they spend hours debating evolution at the dinner table, or perhaps they do they plan their upcoming exotic vacation?

Whatever the case, it’s interesting to get a look into the lives of strangers on their special days, to read the sometimes fascinating biographies of the newlyweds. The best is when we’re provided short vignettes that describe how the two met at a cocktail party when he spilled his red wine down her pastel colored dress, or how she knew from the start at that Halloween party that she just had to know Mr. George Bush impersonator.

What’s always been apparent, though, is that the New York Times is exceptionally exclusive and elitist. Sorry, but you’re not going to find Mrs. Manicurist and Mr. Truck driver’s announcement, although I think their story might be more interesting than two boat shoe clad and stuffy thirty-somethings.

As of recently, there’s apparently a new website that attempts to quantify exactly how many of the people in these announcements are Ivy League educated. Not only Ivy League educated, but also married by a Catholic Priest and women keeping their last names.

Meet WeddingCredential.com (see http://www.weddingcredential.com) and you too can search 3,981 NYTimes wedding announcements to see how many female Princeton graduates who kept their last names. You can also learn how many Goldman Sachs employees who graduated Summa Cum Laude have also been listed. Because we all really care about these details.

According to a New York Magazine article Columbia is the Most-Named University in the Times Wedding Pages, Columbia is the most-named university in the Times Wedding Pages. OK not funny, sorry. But really, it’s interesting to consider how NY Magazine has broken down these seemingly useless yet interesting statistics. (See http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2010/07/columbia_is_the_most-named_uni.html.)

First off, NY Magazine’s analysis has led me to consider the fact that the New York Times is, in reality, pretty elitist. That we all already knew. But, really, who would actually care to read about someone non-Ivy Leage educated? I won’t even begin to mention those people who not only didn’t go to top tier schools, but those who were raised by teachers or-- even worse-- wait, I can’t think of anything the Times would shun more than that.

Beyond that, I think the article makes a very significant point: it’s because of the prevalence of words like “Jdate,” “online dating,” and “Facebook” in marriage announcements that online dating as a whole has become more socially acceptable overall in America. Since we’ve been reading those words repeatedly every Sunday morning for years now, we’ve somehow begun to convince ourselves that meeting someone over the Internet is less taboo.

I also learned that if you want to try and get a three by six inch spot in the Sunday paper, you too can now search this new website. Your seach can help you find out if you’re more likely to make it in if you’re marrying a surgeon or lawyer. You can also determine if your chances are better with a man whose father was a salesman or one whose mom was a CPA. I don’t know about you, but my one and only life goal has been to make it into that section-- so much so that I’m willing to spend hours plotting a way how. (Can you believe that some girls actually do think that though!?)

So what, in actuality, is this new site good for? Besides a little fun with statistics for non-mathematicians, I’m not really sure. What I do know, though, is that we Americans are nosey. We like learning a bit or two about that handsome stranger who we’ll only meet on paper, and we feel validated by the fact that even that gorgeous woman met her soul mate online and-- gasp-- not at a friend’s party. Perhaps it’s sad that one three-page section of a newspaper impacts us this much socially but hey, we’ve gotta get with The Times, folks.

A Commentary on Our Generation

It's true: my job isn't very intellectually stimulating. Sure, I have days where I'm crazed, days where I don't know which task to tackle first. All in all, though, as my friends so lovingly joke, I'm someone's "bitch." (Sorry to all you feminists out there, but it's true.) I support someone else, an MD who runs research labs that have discovered countless genes-- discoveries that have already saved some labs and will hopefully save many more in the future. Did I go to a highly-recognized school to support another person? No. Did my family have to shell out well over $200,000 just so that I could earn my meager salary that pays the rent but doesn't allow for a ton of disposable income? Nope, definitely not.

That said, I'm happy. Really, I am. OK, I know that doesn't sound convincing, but you just have to take my word for it. On a miserably humid day like today, I'm thankful that I don't believe in that I'm not drenched in sweat chasing four year olds through a sprinkler at camp like I used to back in the day. (I'm more grateful that I'm not cleaning up after their accidents post-sprinkler on any day.) In fact, I'm sitting here with a smile on my face (on the inside at least) because I'm covered in goosebumps from the chill of my office's air conditioning. And on days like this, believe me, it feels amazing to be inside a freezing high-rise in my jail-like cubicle; my small salary feels worthwhile. Plus, I work for a great company and with and for great people, so really, who am I to complain?

Overall, though, I am grateful. My job can feel "below me" at times and it for sure isn't comfortable getting myself out of bed and into the unpleasant weather, only to sit at my desk to schedule someone else's appointments and apply for his multi-million dollar grants. But each and every time that I feel like this flat out sucks (aint no classier way to say it, honestly) I remind myself-- thankfully I'm not at home. I also try to remind myself that maybe in some indirect way I'm helping others-- if I schedule my boss's time to take a breath or eat a bite of sandwich, I'm helping to manage his time so he can save lives.

Now, please understand, I'm not knocking any of my friends who are at home and living with their parents. I understand that people have loans to pay and that many people can't get jobs during these unfortunate times. I mean, according to the most recent estimates, almost 10% of the American population can't get a job. That's nothing to laugh at. As they say, tough times call for tough measures, and those measures might include moving back into a childhood home with a mom and dad who insist on attaching a GPS armband to their kid to monitor their whereabouts at all times.

What I don't respect, though, are the people who could find themselves financially capable of moving out and being on their own, but are unwilling to take any job that they consider to be in that "below them" range. I have plenty of friends like that-- friends who won't take a job that pays a decent salary because they don't immediately sense any upward mobility coming from that position.

As I rode the subway this morning-- my ultimate destination after Starbucks being this cubicle, of course-- I skimmed The New York Times as I always do. Now I wasn't actively thinking about this whole having a job vs. not having a job concept, but I think it's always in the back of my mind during my commutes. Anyway, one of the top ten articles, American Dream Is Elusive for New Generation: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/07/business/economy/07generation.html?_r=1&hp. The article essentially profiles a guy who's a couple of years older than me who sits home unemployed day after day. He turned down a job that offered him a $40,000 salary, feeling it would fail to lead him in a worthwhile direction and that the pay was too low. Meanwhile, his parents support him: they pay his rent, his cellphone bills and allow him send out only four or five resumes per week. (They're, of course, not enablers or anything.)

Let me tell you that when I was looking for work, I sent in close to fifty resumes per day. I did anything that I could to land a job. When I was looking to switch from one job that was too unbearable to the next, I was even willing to take a pay cut. A pay cut! Anything to maintain my independence. I would have rather sat and answered phones all day (with memories of my undergraduate career lurking in the background) just to be able to pay my own way. No job, I realized, is below me, and it shames me to think that so many of my peers are willing to mooch off their parents-- the same parents who have already supported them for well over twenty years-- just because they don't want to do something that, to them, feels degrading.

I don't know much about the business world, but I do know this: it looks much better to be doing a job like mine than to be sitting home and watching TV all day. No employer wants to know that a candidate spent the past sixteen months watching Hoarders and The Bachelor on DVR and Seinfeld on syndication. Getting up and going to work every day-- whether it's working construction or as an investment banker or scrubbing filthy toilets-- is a much more valuable use of your time.

So, to the people of my generation, I have to say that I almost plead with you: get up and do something. Prove your intelligence and your good work ethic, and that The New York Times has been portraying us incorrectly. And for the love of God, drop that Chipotle burrito, get off your parents' couch, erase that higher-than-though attitude from your mind, and work hard like the rest of us. Our grandparents, great-grandparents, even our parents did it, and there's no reason we shouldn't.


XOXO,
R.

PS: For more on how others perceive members of our generation, please see this article from a May edition of the New York Times Magazine: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/30/magazine/30fob-wwln-t.html. Again, another reason to prove everyone wrong.