elsagold: the WUMBLOG

How to live, post-graduation, in a Shit Economy.

It’s weird, being graduated. All of a sudden, the weight of an entire institution levitates from your frail little shoulders, and for one split second, it feels like flying—before the rest of the structure dissolves below your feet. Gone are deadlines and midterms, the endless free Finale’s cake and flowing rivers of coffee, and, most of all, the ever-present, ever-oppressive fear of this exact situation—graduating. Because now, oh holy fuck, it’s ALIVE! It’s ALIVE, and it’s your whole fucking life in front of you. What the fuck do you do now? How do you even begin to live a life?

If you’re anything like me, college is a freakin’ stressful experience. And not only because of the daily surge of “oh shit procrastination and shit,” but because my older cousins (you know, those mired deep in late twenty-something-land) were always telling me to “make the most of” college, because life would suck once I left. The problem was, I was pretty darn unhappy in college. To hear that life would only get worse was nothing less than a giant endorsement for the Leap-off-a-Very-Tall-Bridge Brigade. So what to do? How to go on post-graduation, when life would ostensibly go from sucky to worse?

I don’t know. I still don’t know. All that I know is that I’m here with a mandate, and that is a mandate from my parents to somehow make a way for myself in the world (“We birthed you and housed you, so … go make some dollars now”). And a mandate from society to do something beneficial for others (Harvard College = a gathering of resources in the individual that, in turn, requires the individual to do something to increase those resources). And a mandate from my raging internal ambition to make a name for myself, so I can say “Hello my name is ELSA KIM” with a chest-full of pride, crush unpleasant people into dust under my diamond-encrusted toes, and erect large, holographic statues of my face on top of the New York Times building.

And while I don’t know the meaning of life, I’m here. I’m living it. In the worst economic downturn since capitalism was invented (sorry Adam Smith! You meant so well). And I’m having some pretty darn good experiences along the way, especially as I self-describe as a kid who’s ‘trying to figure out what to do with her life’ (as my friend delightedly introduced me to his co-workers). I have yet to figure out how to monetize myself in any way, but in the meantime, I’d really like to share this little life narrative with you all, because I’m only going to be an unemployed, fresh out-of-Harvard grad once in my entire life, and that is now. Consider this an experiment in my own resourcefulness. Consider my life an experiment, and myself Guinea Pig E. Consider the possibility that once we graduate, life can become more interesting, instead of suffocating. I know I am a bit of an idealist. But what else is there besides people, hope and money?