Unsolicited Advice

I considered launching a website this month called “Unsolicited Advice.”  The “About Us” section would read: Unsolicited Advice is a chronicle of the myriad of unsought after tips, ideas, opinions, and suggestions people offer up regarding not-their-own future.  This site is a forum for examining the tenability of the claims.  More specifically, it would be documenting the journey of one particular post-graduate student [yours truly] from graduation to employment.  Comments are welcome.

The impetus for this site was the fascinating amount of rather useless unsolicited advice I have received since graduating from graduate school.  Mind you, dear readers, I have been a proud M.A. recipient for an apparently gasp-worthy two weeks.  Before I could even take a moment to exhale from the painful amount of work that went into receiving that degree (not to mention, concurrently interning and doing research), I was verbally bludgeoned by friends, family, and acquaintances.

Those who were succinct and clear about my direction told me I should write a book, open a tattoo removal business, consult to pharmaceutical companies regarding clinical trials, be a clinical psychologist, and apply to be a notary. Then there were the bizarrely nebulous suggestions that proved to be the most useless such as: work for a nonprofit, narrow down my research interests, expand my interests, publish something, go out on my own, and go volunteer somewhere.   By and large, the most common piece of unsolicited advice I received was, “You should go back to school. With the economy the way it is right now, it’s a good time to be in school. Ride it out.” These individuals seem to ignore the fact that I just finished doing exactly that.

The odd part of all this is not the ineffectual advice.  The advice itself is irrelevant. I think any grad student can attest to being the recipient of unwarranted career recommendations that tend to be immaterial to your end goal.  The business people tell you to get out of academia, the academics tell you to get more research experience, the researchers tell you to get more published, and your mom tells you to get some sleep.   What is relevant is why people seem to be soliciting advice.  Is there an implication that those who finish graduate school without a job are directionless? That we are wandering aimlessly in unemployment? That we are acting as leeches on the economy?  I am not sure.

It is amazing to me, though, how few unsolicited advice-givers have stopped to ask me what my degree is actually in or why I went to graduate school in the first place. These bits and pieces of information just might be relevant…in the meantime, I am off to research becoming a notary…

~Margo Aaron

The Wrong Flick

Imagine you were a fanatical Marvel Comic fan and anxiously wait in anticipation for the premiere of Captain America—the red, white, and blue musculature taking on the malevolent Red Skull.  Good guy American super-warrior against evil organization.  Simple premise.

With soggy butter-drenched popcorn in right hand and over-priced ticket in the left you meandered to your seat with the knowledge that the next ninety minutes will be filled with a nationalistic plotline coupled with more than a smattering of CGI.  The lights dim, the music commences, and on the screen enters the blue protagonist.

Except rather than Captain America, you find Papa Smurf.  In 3-D.

No, no.  You did not just enter the wrong movie theater.  This is the film you will be seeing regardless of your intention.

While a fictional hypothetical, this premise too often becomes the reality for ambitious over-achievers willing to take on massive student loan debt.  The student only realizes he is in the wrong movie and cannot get out until it is way too late.

It is not uncommon for law students to take out over $150,000.00 to pay their tuition.  The schools justify this rate by advertising that the “average” starting salary can be well over $100,000.00 with many first year associates beginning at $160,000.00.  Even accepting the notion that every law student will graduate with the highest paying firm job, paying off this debt is not easily within reach to all.

For instance, the places with these high salaries correspond with the highest costs of living: New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Washington, D.C.  Now because of the tax bracket, the government automatically takes forty percent or sixty four thousand.  This leaves nearly $100,000.00 in disposable income, which is an impressive amount of money.

For arguments sake, it is exceedingly possible for an attorney to have expenses of $45,000.00 (i.e. $1,800/month for rent, $1500/month for cable, food, metro card, etc., and a $5,000 for trips, travels, weddings and gifts).  This leaves $55,000.00 to pay off loans, which could theoretically be paid off in three years—if you budget accordingly, i.e. taking it easy on the destination hen nights and stag parties.

The problem, though, is that it often does not reflect the reality for most young attorneys.   First, one must also take into account that most attorneys fortunate enough to enter Big Law do not stay very long.  Second, most law students fail to obtain these jobs in the first place.  For example, at Georgetown’s law school, ranked in the top 14, only 38% of their graduates landed employment at the nation’s largest firms, which paid the highest salaries.  The other 62% inevitable took jobs that received wages much lower. Furthermore, interest starts accruing from graduation whether you are ready to pay or not.  Therefore, one might need to pay back $150,000 when only receiving a $50,000 salary working for the Manhattan District Attorney’s office, which is an incredibly prestigious and difficult position to attain.

As a toddler, Hefty Smurf’s brawn and charisma with the ladies (or lady) appealed to my tot sensibilities.  Upon entering grade school, my tastes became more sophisticated (or at least relatively so) as this country’s great nationalistic comic characters penetrated my mind and imparted in me its ideals.  My only hope is that before obtaining a significant amount of debt that cannot be discharged through bankrtupcy, young attorneys make decisions that will not financially cripple them; and therefore, uphold the American Dream that Captain America fought so hard to preserve.  Student debt works for some, but certainly not all.

The Deep Breath

During my post-graduate year living in London, my Parisian classmate asked me for my take on her romantic rendezvous with an American male.  While admittedly not a relationship expert, I still became transfixed by the cultural mores separating our two nations.  Not surprisingly, this interaction forced me to confront that Americans and the French have vastly different thought processes, and learning to bridge these divergences can be quite helpful not only in confronting this particular matter of the heart, but also competing in the global marketplace.

While American education is currently attacked from those that believe American children are either pushed too hard or not enough, this week Lisa Miller analyzed the importance of raising a global kid.  Her examination detailed the benefits that can be gleaned from American students immersing themselves in other cultures in order to stay competitive with the rising Eastern nations.  The article provocatively illustrated how some American families were living abroad for years at a time in order to acculturate their children.

Reflecting upon my year abroad, I concur with Ms. Miller’s assessment that young adults can gain a great deal from cultural immersion.  Living in an international city, even in an educational environment, forces each person to develop coping mechanisms and resiliency as it relates to working with others that are different from oneself.  The lessons and relationships that can be built from these experiences last a lifetime because they force the expansion of one’s comfort zone.

As a result, my suggestion is to follow what many students do in Europe either before entering college or the working world, and take a gap year or a period of time to work, travel, volunteer, or study abroad.  This will enable the next generation to do two things: (1) escape the rigors of perfecting the resume for a substantial period of time; and (2) to engage with people of different cultures in order to maintain American competitiveness for years to come.  These gains can come in many different ways, both in the classroom, at work, or as my Parisian classmate found out, after hours.

We Are Not Special

As often happens with the viral age of You Tube, I strolled upon Harvard College’s Class Day where the student speaker wryly lamented to his classmates that they were not, as had been claimed throughout their lives, special.  Obviously, the group in attendance that spring day in Cambridge had been lauded with kudos since probably in utero, but had achieved much distinction by actually graduating from the Miramar of American higher education.[1]

While the speaker was subjecting his classmates to self-deprecation, his larger point should serve as a noteworthy message, we are not inherently exceptional.  The problem with the educators of our generation, our parents and teachers, is that this country’s young and well-educated now believe that they can and will achieve regardless of miniscule rates of success.

Case in point, a friend of mine called me for advice the other day about attending a preeminent law school ranked by the only publication that apparently matters, U.S. News and World Report, in the top twenty.  By all accounts the school is truly a great legal center with top minds teaching to our nation’s neophyte lawyers.  The problem with this school, and ostensibly all legal education today, is that the opportunity costs to attend probably only make sense to those that graduate at the top of their class and land the Big Firm job with its accompanying six-figure salary.  In this particular instance, that would mean the top twenty percent.  When one considers that tuition remains upward of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars and that three years spent in the library usurps the ability to collect a paycheck, one realizes that these costs are real.

My friend has excellent credentials graduating from one of the finest private liberal arts colleges in the nation and spending the last four years in public relations.  He has the ability to out-perform eighty percent of his classmates, but he must also recognize that his classmates matriculate with comparable grades, board scores and experiences.  Every person believes that they will be in that coveted percentile.  Few will actually succeed.

This is not to say that my friend should not to attend this law school.  I am as warm-blooded an American as exists and I certainly believe in choice and free will.  What I am saying is that we should rethink our thought process before making these decisions.  Rather than hubristically thinking one can achieve coveted status, such as the top twenty percent, because of an innate specialness, one can ask, Is this what I want to do if I fail to achieve this particular benchmark.  If “no” is the answer, maybe a different path could be found.  Ultimately, introspective questions such as this might allow oneself to find something enjoyable, fuel a passion; and yes, maybe even be special at it.

-Michael Gordon is a baseball enthusiast with great taste in white wine.  He has an infallible record when it comes to choosing where to have the best Sunday brunch


[1] Apologies if you missed my reference, as I might now be showing my age, but I was referring to the home of the Top Gun aerial combat school depicted in the film of the same name and starring a young and pre-Scientologist Tom Cruise.

What are you going to do with that?

Arguably, the most daunting and ubiquitous question asked to college students is: “So, what is your major?”  It is comical when we consider that it is extremely rare that people pursue their majors as a career. In fact, in today’s world many careers are graduate-school entry level.  They assume a college degree exists, but do not care what field it is in as long as it was earned from a reputable institution.

Yet, any innocent situation (dinner party, wedding, generic family event) is liable to erupt into an interview where “What is your major?” is followed by a feigned sincere, “Oh, so what are you going to do with that?”  Your answers purportedly represent (or raise flags about) your intelligence, marketability, and ability to eventually attain self-sufficiency and financial stability etc etc etc. And the euphemism game ensues.

Business majors are promptly endowed with positive qualities such as ambition, level-headedness, and financial savvy.  Poli-si and history majors are assumed to be applying to law school. A psych major implies you don’t know what you want; and everything else typically points to, as my parents and their peers like to say, “you’re lost.”

I recently heard someone say, “In the real world you can change majors all the time.”  The verity behind those words is ironic considering we, as a society, focus so intently on choice of major as a predictor of future success.  In today’s world, college is not the ticket to your career the way it once was.  It is no longer a novelty. It is a prerequisite for hiring, in most industries, but it certainly is not the golden ticket.

Soon social norms will catch up with society in understanding that the immediate applicability of your major to your career is not what matters and does not mean all is lost.  College, in America at least, is synonymous with emerging adulthood.  The point is not the accumulation of obscure facts or to become knowledgeable in a recondite field, but rather social and emotional development.

So, the answer in most cases to the “What are you going to do with that degree?” question is, quite simply, “nothing.” Frankly, while it evokes fear and worry from parents, the problem is not the answer (“nothing”); the answer is true.  The problem is the question.

-Margo Aaron