Dear Uncle Samuel,
A friend of your nephew Hobson suggested I write to you.
I am a nineteen-year-old female, a sophomore at Chapel Hill, and a member of what the media calls the Millennial Generation. I am still unsure about my college major. My dad keeps pushing me to go for medical school—he’s an internist here in Asheville—and though I know I could cut the work academically, I dread spending that much more time in school. Plus, medicine has little appeal for me, partly because I have watched my dad’s struggles trying to balance his family life with his medical practice.
A friend of your nephew Hobson suggested I write to you.
I am a nineteen-year-old female, a sophomore at Chapel Hill, and a member of what the media calls the Millennial Generation. I am still unsure about my college major. My dad keeps pushing me to go for medical school—he’s an internist here in Asheville—and though I know I could cut the work academically, I dread spending that much more time in school. Plus, medicine has little appeal for me, partly because I have watched my dad’s struggles trying to balance his family life with his medical practice.
But that’s not why I’m writing.
Every day the media reports on the terrible employment situation for people my age. I’ve read article after article about college graduates living at home with their parents, working dead-end jobs, and looking at a bleak future. If I follow my dad’s advice, I would always have work and money, but there’s a good chance I’d also be miserable. On the other hand, if I major in some subject I love—philosophy, literature, and history appeal to me more than calculus, organic chemistry, or microbiology—I’m afraid I will end up working, as my father says, as “a barista at Starbucks.”
Should I be so afraid of the future? What do you think?
Best to you,
Terrified
Dear Terrified,
First let me assure you that your concerns are real. The job market and the world in general can be tough, and in the words of Rocky Balboa, they will beat you to your knees if you let them.
That said; let me also offer you reassurance. As you doubtless know, I am an old guy, one year away from Medicare. Whether I can offer you wisdom I don’t know, but I can offer you perspective by giving you some details of my own employment history. Let me add that in this topsy-turvy curriculum vitae I always knew what I wanted to do regarding a profession. My ambitions changed several times—from soldier to physician, from physician to attorney, from attorney to writer and teacher—but they were always the driving force behind my actions.
So here we go, off on a tour of my past jobs:
1962—I was eleven and sold Christmas cards door to door in Boonville, NC, population 600. I got the idea from a library book with a title like 72 Ways a Boy Can Make Money.
1964—My brother and I started a lawn mowing business.
1967—I worked one summer at Forsyth Memorial Hospital in a special program designed for teenagers interested in medical careers. I was assigned to the operating room, where I observed many surgeries, carried out steel buckets of blood and urine, and once toted an amputated leg, wrapped in gauze so that it resembled a Christmas stocking in shape, to the lab. (Looking back, I see it was a strange job for a sixteen-year-old.)
1968—I worked the summer for the Youth Corps, a federal program where teenage boys cleaned vacant lots or overgrown yards in Winston-Salem. The owners of the property paid for this service. What I remember most are the heat and the large number of snakes we killed. In terms of money spent and benefits gained, the Youth Corps always seemed to me one of the few sane federal programs.
1968: Page at the Forsyth County Public Library
1969—1971: I spent a year and a half at the United States Military Academy. Cadets were paid a small monthly sum. Having decided the military was not for me, I obtained an honorable discharge and used the money I’d saved to pay for a year of college.
1971—1973: During my college years, I washed dishes in the cafeteria, painted apartments in the complex where I lived, and did a brief stint as a lifeguard.
1972: Delivering tickets to a Fireman’s Ball was my worst job. I lasted one hour. I delivered four tickets, but only one person was there to receive the delivery and pay me. Result: I made 75 cents. I returned to my place of employment, quit the job, received said 75 cents, and spent it at a nearby bar for a glass of beer. One positive outcome: a man at the bar had spent most of the Korean War in a prisoner of war camp and told me an interesting story.
1972: Second worst job: one day spent as a Fuller Brush salesman. In four hours, I sold a toilet brush, which pretty much sums up the entire experience.
1973—1975: I received scholarships and money for working as a Teacher’s Aid in graduate school.
1973—1974: Part-time work in the audio-visual department of the library at Wake Forest University.
1975—1976: Having jumped ship on graduate school, and determined to become a writer, I worked as a shipper-receiver at the Old Corner Bookstore in Boston, Massachusetts. I took home just under $100 per week, yet somehow managed to live on that salary.
1976: I worked six weeks as a waiter at a Red Lobster in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
1976—1977: Bookstore clerk at Hunter’s Bookstore in San Diego, California.
1978—1979: One year of writing while my wife worked.
1980—1981: Apartment manager.
1980: Ladder runner at the five stars C&O Restaurant in Charlottesville, Virginia. Most unique job. The kitchen in this former train depot was on the first floor. The owners had cut a hole into a closet on the second floor beside the restaurant. My job was to run food orders up a ladder from the kitchen to the restaurant. Very interesting place. On the shelves, for example, were rosemary, thyme, and high thyme, which was marijuana. Pitchers of Heineken were shared throughout the evening. I also did prep work for the salads and washed pots and pans. Work began at 4 p.m. If I didn’t take a break, I could generally leave by 1 a.m.
1980—1984: My wife and I were house parents at the Chi Omega sorority at the University of Virginia. In return, we received a small apartment rent-free. During this time I had various and frequent run-ins with fraternity boys. Once one sucker-punched me and knocked me unconscious. On another occasion, one young man insulted my wife. (I tracked him to his frat house and demanded, and received, an apology).
1981—1983: Waiter at the Hardware Store Restaurant in Charlottesville, Virginia.
1984—2005: Operated a bed and breakfast, a bookshop, and a mail-order homeschool book company in Waynesville, North Carolina. My wife Kris taught nursing during some of these years, yet in spite of working ourselves to exhaustion, we were always in debt.
1990—1999: I taught Latin and some literature to small groups of homeschoolers in Waynesville
1995—1997: I taught adult basic education two nights a week at the state prison in Hazelwood.
1997—1999: Latin teacher at Tuscola and Pisgah High Schools in Haywood County. Paid through the community college as an adjunct. My salary was about half that of a beginning teacher’s salary.
2000—2016: The first job to truly sustain my family and me. I teach history, literature, and Latin seminars to homeschoolers in the Asheville area.
2000—2015: Writing. This endeavor brings in about $3500 per year.
2014—2016: I earn money appearing in instructional videos for the Seton Home Study program.
2015: I earn a small amount of money acting as janitor in the building in which I live.
I offer you this laundry list of employment for three reasons. First, you should know that many successful people start out after college as baristas and waiters. Second, a lot of young people spend their twenties floundering about as they seek their way in life. If you always have a goal, you may flounder, but at least you’ll be able to see the shoreline. Finally, a degree in philosophy, history, or literature is not the kiss of death. All four of my children majored in philosophy at a small Catholic college (which has an excellent philosophy department). My daughter is a part-time teacher and stay-at-home mom; my three sons are pursuing successful careers. All of them credit a part of their success to their academic training, which stressed logic, thinking, and writing. These are skills that, if studied and practiced, will serve you for a lifetime.
People often say, “Do what you love and the money will follow.” The key word here is “Do.” You must act. You must seek out opportunity. You must never give way to despair. No one is going to beat a path to your door to employ you, but there will always be a market for the bright and the eager.
A final recommendation: pick up a copy of Charles Murray’s The Curmudgeon’s Guide to Getting Ahead: Dos and Don’ts of Right Behavior, Tough Thinking, Clear Writing, and Living a Good Life. The Curmudgeon’s Guide is a short book packed full of sound advice.
Hang tough, Terrified, and remember to enjoy the ride. It will go much faster than you ever thought possible.
Best wishes,
Uncle Samuel
Every day the media reports on the terrible employment situation for people my age. I’ve read article after article about college graduates living at home with their parents, working dead-end jobs, and looking at a bleak future. If I follow my dad’s advice, I would always have work and money, but there’s a good chance I’d also be miserable. On the other hand, if I major in some subject I love—philosophy, literature, and history appeal to me more than calculus, organic chemistry, or microbiology—I’m afraid I will end up working, as my father says, as “a barista at Starbucks.”
Should I be so afraid of the future? What do you think?
Best to you,
Terrified
Dear Terrified,
First let me assure you that your concerns are real. The job market and the world in general can be tough, and in the words of Rocky Balboa, they will beat you to your knees if you let them.
That said; let me also offer you reassurance. As you doubtless know, I am an old guy, one year away from Medicare. Whether I can offer you wisdom I don’t know, but I can offer you perspective by giving you some details of my own employment history. Let me add that in this topsy-turvy curriculum vitae I always knew what I wanted to do regarding a profession. My ambitions changed several times—from soldier to physician, from physician to attorney, from attorney to writer and teacher—but they were always the driving force behind my actions.
So here we go, off on a tour of my past jobs:
1962—I was eleven and sold Christmas cards door to door in Boonville, NC, population 600. I got the idea from a library book with a title like 72 Ways a Boy Can Make Money.
1964—My brother and I started a lawn mowing business.
1967—I worked one summer at Forsyth Memorial Hospital in a special program designed for teenagers interested in medical careers. I was assigned to the operating room, where I observed many surgeries, carried out steel buckets of blood and urine, and once toted an amputated leg, wrapped in gauze so that it resembled a Christmas stocking in shape, to the lab. (Looking back, I see it was a strange job for a sixteen-year-old.)
1968—I worked the summer for the Youth Corps, a federal program where teenage boys cleaned vacant lots or overgrown yards in Winston-Salem. The owners of the property paid for this service. What I remember most are the heat and the large number of snakes we killed. In terms of money spent and benefits gained, the Youth Corps always seemed to me one of the few sane federal programs.
1968: Page at the Forsyth County Public Library
1969—1971: I spent a year and a half at the United States Military Academy. Cadets were paid a small monthly sum. Having decided the military was not for me, I obtained an honorable discharge and used the money I’d saved to pay for a year of college.
1971—1973: During my college years, I washed dishes in the cafeteria, painted apartments in the complex where I lived, and did a brief stint as a lifeguard.
1972: Delivering tickets to a Fireman’s Ball was my worst job. I lasted one hour. I delivered four tickets, but only one person was there to receive the delivery and pay me. Result: I made 75 cents. I returned to my place of employment, quit the job, received said 75 cents, and spent it at a nearby bar for a glass of beer. One positive outcome: a man at the bar had spent most of the Korean War in a prisoner of war camp and told me an interesting story.
1972: Second worst job: one day spent as a Fuller Brush salesman. In four hours, I sold a toilet brush, which pretty much sums up the entire experience.
1973—1975: I received scholarships and money for working as a Teacher’s Aid in graduate school.
1973—1974: Part-time work in the audio-visual department of the library at Wake Forest University.
1975—1976: Having jumped ship on graduate school, and determined to become a writer, I worked as a shipper-receiver at the Old Corner Bookstore in Boston, Massachusetts. I took home just under $100 per week, yet somehow managed to live on that salary.
1976: I worked six weeks as a waiter at a Red Lobster in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
1976—1977: Bookstore clerk at Hunter’s Bookstore in San Diego, California.
1978—1979: One year of writing while my wife worked.
1980—1981: Apartment manager.
1980: Ladder runner at the five stars C&O Restaurant in Charlottesville, Virginia. Most unique job. The kitchen in this former train depot was on the first floor. The owners had cut a hole into a closet on the second floor beside the restaurant. My job was to run food orders up a ladder from the kitchen to the restaurant. Very interesting place. On the shelves, for example, were rosemary, thyme, and high thyme, which was marijuana. Pitchers of Heineken were shared throughout the evening. I also did prep work for the salads and washed pots and pans. Work began at 4 p.m. If I didn’t take a break, I could generally leave by 1 a.m.
1980—1984: My wife and I were house parents at the Chi Omega sorority at the University of Virginia. In return, we received a small apartment rent-free. During this time I had various and frequent run-ins with fraternity boys. Once one sucker-punched me and knocked me unconscious. On another occasion, one young man insulted my wife. (I tracked him to his frat house and demanded, and received, an apology).
1981—1983: Waiter at the Hardware Store Restaurant in Charlottesville, Virginia.
1984—2005: Operated a bed and breakfast, a bookshop, and a mail-order homeschool book company in Waynesville, North Carolina. My wife Kris taught nursing during some of these years, yet in spite of working ourselves to exhaustion, we were always in debt.
1990—1999: I taught Latin and some literature to small groups of homeschoolers in Waynesville
1995—1997: I taught adult basic education two nights a week at the state prison in Hazelwood.
1997—1999: Latin teacher at Tuscola and Pisgah High Schools in Haywood County. Paid through the community college as an adjunct. My salary was about half that of a beginning teacher’s salary.
2000—2016: The first job to truly sustain my family and me. I teach history, literature, and Latin seminars to homeschoolers in the Asheville area.
2000—2015: Writing. This endeavor brings in about $3500 per year.
2014—2016: I earn money appearing in instructional videos for the Seton Home Study program.
2015: I earn a small amount of money acting as janitor in the building in which I live.
I offer you this laundry list of employment for three reasons. First, you should know that many successful people start out after college as baristas and waiters. Second, a lot of young people spend their twenties floundering about as they seek their way in life. If you always have a goal, you may flounder, but at least you’ll be able to see the shoreline. Finally, a degree in philosophy, history, or literature is not the kiss of death. All four of my children majored in philosophy at a small Catholic college (which has an excellent philosophy department). My daughter is a part-time teacher and stay-at-home mom; my three sons are pursuing successful careers. All of them credit a part of their success to their academic training, which stressed logic, thinking, and writing. These are skills that, if studied and practiced, will serve you for a lifetime.
People often say, “Do what you love and the money will follow.” The key word here is “Do.” You must act. You must seek out opportunity. You must never give way to despair. No one is going to beat a path to your door to employ you, but there will always be a market for the bright and the eager.
A final recommendation: pick up a copy of Charles Murray’s The Curmudgeon’s Guide to Getting Ahead: Dos and Don’ts of Right Behavior, Tough Thinking, Clear Writing, and Living a Good Life. The Curmudgeon’s Guide is a short book packed full of sound advice.
Hang tough, Terrified, and remember to enjoy the ride. It will go much faster than you ever thought possible.
Best wishes,
Uncle Samuel
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