Wake up from the American Dream

When I think about my future, sometimes it’s hard to see anything other than a terrifying abyss.

I think I’m finally realizing the philosophy I’ve built my hopes on since I was young, the American Dream, is dead. It’s hollow and mythical, a shell of what it once was.

After four years of liberal arts classes, my marketable skills are limited to being decent at reading and writing, being great at leading groups of people and having a general knowledge of a few Adobe and Office programs.

And it’s mostly my fault.

You don’t need to tell me I should have gotten a “useful” degree. I’m aware now of what it means to graduate with a liberal arts major. I’m well aware of the stigma.

I chose English because I was good at it and because, as an 18-year-old, I didn’t really know what I was doing or what choosing it would mean.

Although I loved all my English classes, I’m graduating this spring with fear in my heart.

Defend liberal arts all you want, but for those who don’t want to go into research or teaching, things look pretty bleak.

It’s certainly true that the decisions you make are directly responsible for some part of how your life turns out.

But being young, idealistic and naïve isn’t something you can blame our generation for.

We were raised with the philosophy that passion and a little elbow grease could eventually equate to success. It’s only recently that some of us have realized this isn’t always the case. Just liking a subject a lot doesn’t equate to a future.

I was so absorbed in the Dream that I forgot about the real world lurking just off campus.

The American Dream has become archaic. It’s an out-of-touch remnant of a society long dead.

Some will vehemently deny it, but their denial, to me, is like a group of people floating on a slowly melting iceberg, desperately hoping that convincing themselves it’s an island will make it so.

I wish I hadn’t spent the first two decades of my life as one of them.

Now, as a senior, I wish I could go back. There’s so much more that I could have done to prepare myself.

But I was still living the bourgeois dream that everything will always turn out OK if you play by the rules and work hard, no matter what you’re actually working at. 

Even though graduating with a degree that’s hit-or-miss for many employers has given me a bit of an existential crisis, I know that I’m valuable. I’m whip-smart, a fast learner, creative, and I can make myself useful at pretty much anything.

At this point in my life, being modest or subtle is going to get me nowhere. Thankfully, I’m confident in my worth. I have a strong feeling that confidence might save me.

So, to the artists and creative professionals and liberal arts majors of the world, prepare yourselves.

Success is possible, but it’s rough out there for us. People will doubt you, put you down and call you unrealistic.

The majority of the time, the world will take the idealistic and eat them alive. Once you hit 22, one semester away from graduation, it’s increasingly hard to live in blissful naïveté.

Wake up now, and prepare yourself. Because we have a trump card: our creativity.
It can be developed, but it can’t be taught. Nurture it, value it and be confident in it, because it will save you.

There’s no way to get around the fact that life won’t be a breeze for our generation, whether we’re liberal arts majors or business students.

But if we stop living in our idealistic dreamland now, we’ll make it that much easier for our future selves.

Realize that it’s brutal out there, and arm yourself. That’s the only way we’ll survive.

­— kelfritz@indiana.edu