"What Do You Do?"

This question has always irked me. Even as a teen/young adult, something about this very common question that anyone who isn't living on another planet knows refers specifically to your job - the thing that you do to earn a living rather than the things you do while living the life your job pays for you to live - seemed to feel a little off, a bit too reductive. I grew up as the oldest of five children and was fairly young when my father decided to quit his job in a different field and start his own architectural firm - a brave move by any account (and one that honestly not everyone is cut out for) - and despite some darker parts of that story I have to give him credit for his determination and success, as well as how much I learned working for him as a draftsman in high school. I certainly enjoyed more than my fair share of privileges as a result of his success...excellent private school education, new cars, a steady stream of other nice and expensive material things as well as frequent trips to Walt Disney World and Christmas vacations in England.

Unfortunately, my parents' success in business didn't prevent them from engaging in some pretty draconian and deeply damaging childrearing practices; behind their shiny exteriors they were emotionally abusive and extremely controlling, and as the oldest I was frequently front and center in the line of fire. I was a bright, easygoing child who performed well at school and at home, never revealing to anyone that my good behavior was as much a result of being terrified of my parents as it was my basic tendency to do the right thing and not be an asshole. I'll skip the grisly details but suffice to say that like many other children of successful and controlling parents, mine made it very clear early on that I was expected to eventually take over the family business, and any talk of other interests or even the idea that this plan might not be in either of our best interest was forbidden and would be punished as severely as other rebellious behavior. (Not that I would know, as I used to joke "I'm not allowed to rebel." Which pretty much sums it up.)

Always eager to please but cursed with a wildly curious mind and strong interests in subjects other than designing houses, I was secretly conflicted over this. While I was proud of my skills as a 15 year old draftsman and thrilled with the fact that I was actually deciding where light switches and plumbing would be placed in new homes, I dreamed of studying psychology or even having the freedom to decide what sort of career I would like to have someday...while other high school seniors looked forward to their college years as a time to actually learn and discover who they were and what they wanted to do, I'd been discouraged from seeing college as anything more than four years of biding my time before coming straight home and to the drafting table.

Thirty years later and long after making a difficult but crucial break with my family, I find myself continuing to heal from my childhood as well as continuing to question the more general ideas I learned and took for granted about success, work, and the question of "what I do." My knee-jerk response to that question is usually something along the lines of "I listen to a lot of Warren Zevon" or "I laugh my ass off at stupid things," even during times when I've been happily employed in my most enjoyable and lucrative jobs, it's felt a little false to say "I'm a program coordinator!" or "I'm an Enumerator for the 2020 Census!" I've had some truly glorious job experiences but even the ones that involved working insane overtime (which usually happened because I was engrossed in something new I'd learned to do and was enjoying it so much I didn't notice the time, not because it was required), my job was just one thing among dozens that I "did." Glancing over my resume here on LinkedIn earlier today, I noticed that it seemed to contain an odd combination of impressive skills and an unusually erratic work history. A good friend I've known since we were coworkers at one of my earliest jobs recently said "Stephanie, you always find the most interesting jobs but they never last very long." Which is true, and what's also true is that longevity has never really been a conscious goal for me...although at this point as I plunge into a fresh new job search I'm wondering if it should have been.

I could blame my dysfunctional upbringing for my apparent inability to find the career success my abilities would seem to make somewhat a given, and I'd be at least partially right. Therapy and a keen interest in neurobiology has taught me that parental influence can affect later behavior through physiological channels as well as conscious thought processes, and I'm working diligently to address and overcome things I haven't already figured out about myself. But the wildly curious person I still am also can't help questioning the underlying assumption that career success is actually as important in the big picture as most of us assume it is. As Covid continues to uncover and expand the cracks in our economic system, millions of Americans still struggle to stay afloat while still being fed the same line our great-grandparents were taught about work being the only option for avoiding financial disaster. Not only is this inhumane, it's a clear indication that our system is deeply flawed and unsustainable in the long term. Years ago experts predicted that the age of technology would result in a greatly reduced need for human labor, and although theoretically sound and completely logical we all know it turned out quite the opposite. Factual information is no match for greed or power, but I'll save that soapbox for another time.

Don't get me wrong, I love to work and I'm much happier when I'm employed than when I'm not. I'm actively searching for work now and looking forward to having that purpose, the opportunity to use my abilities and of course having a regular income again soon. But in the meantime if you ask me what I do, I'll probably tell you I listen to a lot of Warren Zevon and laugh my ass off at stupid things...job or not.