GOOD has a pretty OK collection of “real advice” for college graduates up today. I say “pretty OK” because the “real talk for new grads” schtick is almost as annoying as the traditional, platitude-filled, bullshit graduation speech. “Real talk for new grads” essentially boils down to “here’s how to not be a shitty person.” You should know how to not be a shitty person after four years of college or four years of anything.
I spent three and a half years absolutely knowing that I wouldn’t attend University of Maryland’s main commencement, or my department’s smaller commencement. But American Studies asked me to speak at its ceremony, a joint affair with English and Women’s Studies. I accepted because my parents were overjoyed; I am the first college graduate on my mom’s side, and her mother is my only living grandparent.
I tried to write something at least mildly interesting that would get at the fact that just because we were a room full of liberal-arts Millenials didn’t mean that we’d be useless for the rest of our lives (as I recall, the New York Times had, throughout 2010—I graduated in December of that year—published many a trend piece about how liberal-arts Millenials were some of the most useless, listless, unmoored, and service-job-employed of them all). I wrote something, instead, that was tremendously dumb and full of platitudes. I hated what I was saying and I hated that I was saying it on a stage I didn’t want to walk across. Everyone knows commencement speeches are bullshit. At least not everyone has to live with the experience of being a dispenser of that particular kind of bullshit.
And “real talk” lists are bullshit, too. It’s a nice reminder, but a blog post alone will not convince the Type-A Person that they are capable of dropping everything and moving to a different city or country with barely any money, or the totally shy person to talk to the cashier at their corner store.
The best nugget in the GOOD piece is this, from Twanna Hines:
Careers are dead. Aim for a lifestyle and choose paid activities that support it.
If you’re an aspiring writer, dancer, poet, or singer, learn a widely marketable skill like accounting, coding, graphic design, or law. Very few people are able to fully support themselves solely by their creativity— especially during the early days. Be yourself, and choose a life that sounds interesting. Regardless of industry, the most motivated, engaged, and excited performers are the people who really love their job.
My life outside of college is not much different than my life inside of college, but I can say in the year and a half since I’ve graduated I’ve eased my grip on just about everything. I still place an extreme premium on not fucking up personally, but no longer flip out at, say, the possibility of not knowing where I’m sleeping at night. Part of this I attribute to realizing that though I love my job, what I really love is how it allows me to live. I don’t mean fiscally, because alt-weeklies barely pay the bills. But I get to talk to and work with interesting people, be engaged with the minute details of city I live in on a daily basis, and occasionally write what I think are smart, well-edited pieces of journalism. (I also actually use those dumb liberal-arts degrees that I got, but that’s neither here nor there for me.)
So move somewhere spontaneously—or don’t. Do what you love—or don’t. Make sure you foster the relationships you made in college—or don’t. Accept financial help from your parents—or don’t. Read a lot—or don’t. Drink a lot of water—or don’t. Drink better alcohol—or don’t. Invest in your 401(k)—or don’t. Tell yourself everything will be fine—or don’t. Find a new apartment after you’ve had your heart broken—or don’t. Travel—or don’t. Hit the ground running—or don’t. Start a blog post about your personal bullshit in a coffee shop in Bed-Stuy and finish it on your train back to D.C.—or don’t.
But everything will move forward, and you may as well, too.
