12/27/07

The Headsman of Graduation

(written for College and Beyond blog on 11/8/07)

One morning during the first week of the semester I woke up. We all do it. It’s morning and that’s what most productive members of society do. But, it was 5 am. I stared at my alarm clock and willed it to be 7:30. The clock flipped to 5:01. I rolled over a few times and looked again. 5:02. I began to not only count sheep but also give them names - “Joe, Bob, Ann, wolf… Wolf?! Ok, enough,” I thought as the clock changed to 5:03, “I’m getting up.”

I, of course, was stressing out about school, but it wasn’t even mid terms yet. I have six credits left to finish before I graduate in December. Graduation looms like a headsman lovingly sharpening his axe over the chopping block as I am escorted through the crowd and towards the stage. “At least,” I hope, “he’s sharpening his blade and not trying to dull it.” Either way there he is, standing in his black hood and holding his gleaming blade, taunting me with my fate.

5:04. I flip on the light and begin to make coffee. My dog lifts her head, blinks at me and goes back to sleep.

But, I am the hero of this vision. So, I itch the butt of my green tights, flash a perfect smile at the headsman and reach for a sword… um, I mean, the ‘on’ switch of my computer. The Headsman of graduation will not leave this hero wondering “what next?”

I have been working insanely hard for three and a half years getting my degree in English Literature/Creative Writing. I haven’t had time to think about life after college. When I entered school I had visions of becoming a “writer” – whatever that means. It is an abstract noun paired with names like Hemingway and Kerouac. But now, with graduation coming at the end of this semester, I am faced with the result of this vision. Somehow I had moved from pseudo-collegeboy-nerd into real life unemployed nerd. I will have the ornate certificate encased in a cheap frame to prove it. It will officially be the most expensive piece of paper I have ever owned. The loan statements will prove this to me monthly. You’re damn right I will proudly display this piece of paper and hope its brilliance hides the cheap frame. But, since I'll be unemployed will anybody blame me for frame quality?

I wish I could charge a fee for others to come and see the most expensive piece of paper on the planet, but alas, people are smart and I am a lousy con-man. So, I am forced to work for my money. But, how? What am I suppose to do with an English degree? At graduation aren’t they suppose to give us English majors a desk and a typewriter? I hope they also give us a trash can for all the false starts and a flask to sit in the drawer. My script says, "toss mortar," then scene break and “cue agent,” but no one knocks on my door. I don't know how to cast this part.

5:10. The coffee finishes brewing. My dog blinks at me again and decides it’s still too early. I sit down in front of my computer and begin doing research into what it means to make a living as a writer. Two hours later my sleepy dog puts her head in my lap, asking me to let her out…


That was 10 weeks ago. Since that early morning episode, where I was obviously slightly delirious, I have been spending eight hours, two days a week researching a career. I know it’s a lot of time. I would rather be spacing out at my keyboard or drinking heavily (that’s what writers do, right?) but I have toys to buy and a girlfriend to impress. So, while I still have access to University resources, I figure I should prepare for my transition into the working world. I would encourage everyone to take the time to do this while still in school. The headsman waits. Fortunately, the hero or heroine in most stories is not only good looking but also proactive.

A good place to start is Career Services at your university. They were wonderfully informative and incredibly tolerant of my stupid questions – greeting each one with a blink, smile and fact-filled answer full of encouragement. With their help I built a great resume and portfolio. I also learned how and where to look for a job and picked up materials on how to prepare for an interview or a university sanctioned job fair. I also talked with everybody remotely related to my chosen career path – professors, fellow students, grad students, local writers and magazine owners, and the cute barista. Not only did this generate ideas but my Rolodex of contacts grew exponentially.

It might sound silly, but I also googled “freelance writing,” “top ten money making degrees,” and “advantages of an English degree.” I read for hours but in the end I knew what type of salary to expect from writing, who thee top trade journals are, what websites and companies were reputable for networking and jobs, how to market my degree and experience to potential employers and what degree to get if I wanted to make money or go to grad school. This leads me to my next point.

A person does not necessarily need to walk the classic corporate path. There are alternatives. Like teaching English overseas, starting a non-profit, entering grad school or being a ski-bum for a few years. After my first stint in college I chose to be a bum, um… I mean, I chose to snowboard for a few (eight) winters. During my time as snow-bum I did a lot of soul searching. I know it sounds cliché but one must know themselves to be content and I refused to have my mid life crisis in mid-life – I had mine in my late twenties. I’m glad that one’s over, even though I was too broke to buy a convertible and support a trophy wife. Oh well, I bought a couple new snowboards and I’ll take a powder day over makin’ whoopee any day. Those of you who have been snow-bums know exactly what I’m talkin’ about – high-five!

But, because of my self exploration I now know I need personal improvement goals to feel happy, that I may not not political enough to work in a corporation, I need to bark like a dog and moo like a cow occasionally without getting fired, I have to be in or near the mountains to keep my sanity and if I don’t have time to space out a little every day I short-circuit – imagine the sound of an electric shock and my eyeballs bouncing side to side.


So, now I stand on the stage, the headsman bleeding at my feet, smiling at a crowd of cheering admirers. But, far above me I hear a manic laugh and a woman scream. I think the manic laugh was accompanied by a man saying, “you haven’t graduated yet sucka,” but, I am not entirely sure. I look up to the tower just in time to see beautiful long hair and a tiara disappear from a tower window. I get the feeling that defeating the headsman was the easy part. “The hero’s work is never done,” I sigh. Flashing my smile, making a few women in the crowd swoon, I leap towards the tower stairs…