Monday, June 15, 1998
Life beyond UCLA walls doesn’t look promising
As cliche as it sounds, the last few weeks have been a blur of
denial, anxiety and overwhelming confusion.
I’m graduating. My one, clear, attainable goal throughout my
last 18 years in school has been reached. And in less than a week,
I’ll be unemployed and paying $8 to watch "Saving Pvt. Ryan."
For the first part of my senior year, graduating seemed like a
dream come true. Only three more quarters until I would never have
to write another paper on some asinine topic like Russian ballet or
contemporary Cuban cinema. Only three more quarters until Murphy
Hall would be a forgotten nightmare.
But now, as the last days of class approach, the bells of Powell
ringing as I run to class are making me strangely nostalgic. What
was my rush anyway?
I read somewhere that only 38 percent of UCLA students finish in
four years, so why didn’t I spend some extra time "finding myself"
and switching majors. After all, the only reason I really picked
political science was from the pressure of my 15th "You have now
completed X units and must pick a major immediately" letter. And
it’s one of the few north campus majors that doesn’t garner a
snicker from strangers.
Post-college, angst-ridden films like "Reality Bites" and
"Kicking and Screaming" are starting to become strangely
enlightening as I rent them again with a new perspective. I guess
what really scares me, though, is the notion that "the best days
are behind me." Because if that’s the case, I need to start all
over.
I recently ran into an old keg buddy of mine who graduated two
years ago. After a year of travelling around the world, he has
finally entered the real world of the forbidding 9-to-5 desk job.
His words of wisdom? "Enjoy your last quarter. Forget about school
and party every night. These are the best days of your life."
Yikes.
Like many seniors graduating in the next few weeks, a
post-university job is still an abstract notion. Sure I went to a
couple of random career fairs on campus, cover letters and resume
in hand, ready to look for a job.
However, after talking to a few reps from different companies,
"headhunting" didn’t sound like something I wanted to do. Neither
did "research analyst" or "administrative assistant." And despite
daily online chats with JOBTRAK, there just aren’t that many
businesses that are desperate to snag a 23-year-old with a
political science degree who’s fluent in French.
Newspapers and television may be telling me the truth when they
say this is the best job market in years for college graduates, but
then why do over a third of Dominos pizza delivery people have a
degree?
So, like a lot of other recent grads, free rent and great food
(courtesy of my parents) is looking to be the realistic
alternative. And while I’m there catching up on "Become a
millionaire in less than a month and never work again!"
infomercials, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to ponder the
multiple uses of a political science degree. And if nothing
inspiring comes to me, then there’s always graduate school.
Marie Blanchard