I embarked on my job search with a light heart right after my graduation from college at the end of May. Surely, I thought, after I’d won several hefty cash-prize-wrapped writing awards, gained great praise from all of my professors, worked in our PR office to write articles marketing the college to perspective students, and spent hours entertaining alumni, someone might want to hire me in the real world. Right?
. . . Right?
Well, if someone wanted me, he or she didn’t bother to speak up. After I spent several weeks filling out more applications than I care to mention, my inbox and cell phone message receptacles remained empty. They stayed so, disappointingly, well into my second month of my job search for an entry-level position in publishing or journalism.
In my distress, I turned to my friend, Charlotte (Brontë), for advice. Specifically, I turned to a gift she’d given me, the novel Jane Eyre.
Ah, Jane. I feel ya, girl.
Like me, Jane only has her education, her high aptitude and quick mind, and some experience as student teacher to land her first comfortable situation working as a governess/au pair (which I did during college). Her first venture into the real world as a penniless woman occurs some two-thirds of the way through the novel, right after Jane discovers that Rochester is a syphilitic-wife-stashing scoundrel and runs away with nothing more than the paltry contents of her reticule in hand. She winds up in the care of a clergyman, one Mr. Rivers, who reluctantly offers her the equivalency of a McDonald’s job to help her earn her bed and board.
Jane accepts this position “‘with all [her] heart’”—happy to have any honest work to do. Rivers seems surprised at her alacrity.
“‘But you comprehend me?’” he verifies. “‘It is a village school [you will be teaching]; your scholars will be only poor girls—cottager’s children—at the best, farmers’ daughters. Knitting, sewing, reading, writing, ciphering, will be all you will have to teach. What will you do with your accomplishments? What with the largest portion of your mind—sentiments—tastes?’”
Without a hint of regret, Jane replies, ‘“Save them till they are wanted. They will keep.’”1
There is wisdom in this choice, I think. I’m taking heart from this because, on June 30th, I had a breakthrough of sorts.
I’d ordered a salad in a restaurant and asked for extra ranch dressing, regardless of the calories. I made the waitress chuckle when I announced I was being “bad.” That self-same waitress also overheard my despair over the job market as I chatted with my mother, so she offered to vouch for me as a waitress at the restaurant. Her name was Donna, and she decidedly liked me.
“If that (meaning the superfluity of salad dressing) is the only ‘bad’ thing you do, honey, I like you already,” Donna proclaimed, throwing in many other fondly delivered observations that I was “a lot like [her] daughter.”
And I thought about it, about both the job offer and what she’d said about me. The worst thing I’ve done so far? Probably the night of my twenty-first birthday, with a grand total of four drinks spread over five and a half hours. Never to be repeated again.
But then I thought back to the Jane-Eyrian question: Does one simply leave to rot one’s expensive college education for a menial job with a paycheck during a bad economy?
I decided that my answer to that question was, “yes.”
After all, my brain, so long as I stay away from illegal drugs, will still be there for me—in all its shining semi-brilliance—whenever I need it to perform high-level tasks in my ideal career setting. Whenever that happens.
I was in a peaceful state of resolve when I handed the job application into Donna and her manager, Julie. Apparently, the server situation at the restaurant isn’t too dire, since they haven’t called me back, but I think I learned a lesson simply by embracing the opening.
I learned that, just because I was a great student in school, it doesn’t mean I necessarily deserve a great job. It also doesn’t mean I can’t greatly perform the daily tasks of an unglamorous job out in the real-world market.
I think this realization is called “humility. ” Acting on it might be called “character.” The wise old waitress named Donna recognized that I was ready to try a taste of both.
Another thought for today, provided by Boundless Webzine’s John Thomas’ timely article, “Pursue Career or Care for Dad” (a timely piece for me, anyway, since I’m caring for my mom and buried my dad this winter), offers this:
“I’m only making the point that nothing is more miserable than having an exciting job that is out of the will of God, and nothing is more satisfying than following God somewhere on a path we might not have chosen, and discovering He had purpose in it. If we follow God we never, never need to worry about being fulfilled in what we’re doing.”
The rest of Thomas’ article is here: http://www.boundless.org/2005/answers/a0002067.cfm
Other reference:
1. Bronte, Charlotte. Jane Eyre. 1847. New York: Norton Critical Edition, 2001. p.303.
July 16, 2009 at 1:57 am
Beautifully written; my respect for your grace and strength under difficult circumstances continually grows.
July 16, 2009 at 2:24 am
Aww, thanks, Kari. It’s nice of you to take the time to read it! I hope I don’t disappoint you during the sure-to-come whiny posts about the circumstances…
July 16, 2009 at 2:14 am
Amazing…I enjoyed your writing almost as much as I do listening to you.
July 16, 2009 at 2:22 am
Thanks, Matthew. I remember talking a lot when I met you, so I guess the length of this post didn’t surprise you. 🙂
July 16, 2009 at 2:33 am
Not in the least. You continue to entertain me, sadly unable to alternate with dancing as we did friday. Nonetheless, you have succeeded in earning another nickname to add to your list.
July 16, 2009 at 2:57 am
“Does one simply leave to rot one’s expensive college education for a menial job with a paycheck during a bad economy?” For about two years after finishing college with an engineering degree, I accepted a computer-drafting job, “a good first job,” but I thought of it as a “technical college” type of job, and wished I was using all the technical engineering knowledge I spent years of my life and thousands of dollars trying to get. But in a summer the Lord taught me much about contentment, He also impressed on me that “There is no shame in being a CAD designer.” I think you have come to the right conclusion, and (insert scholarly voice) any job done diligently, to the glory of God, is a good job.
July 16, 2009 at 2:43 pm
Thanks for the support, Nick. I’m glad you agree with me on this–although I will say, working with Auto CAD at least requires some engineering skills. I know I’d have a tough time figuring it out!
July 20, 2009 at 1:14 pm
Hello dearheart–
Finally getting around to reading your writings. Be forewarned: I’m going to tap you for publication of this piece somewhere. I know exactly the place. Watch out. 😉
(I’ll send you the details in a message!)
Also, I personally love to see you learning these things and writing of them so well. Three cheers for you!!
July 21, 2009 at 12:58 am
You rock my socks, Enide (Bunny, Steph, Goddess Divine!!!). Thanks!
July 8, 2010 at 3:38 pm
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