Act II, Scene 4: The Price of Success

But why? I have the conviction that what I did was right for me (especially after all the meditating and prioritizing), but I suppose I still feel like a bit of a--well, failure. I would imagine most people, like Traci, feel a sense of liberation and empowerment, and perhaps I would too, were it not for the personal circumstances surrounding this change.

My friend was completely understanding, as I'm sure many of us in this miraculously supportive community would be -- out of compassion we produce qualifiers to defend the decisions of our loved ones, even when they uncomfortably brush against society's norms. But therein lies the problem: while my friend was completely understanding, if not 150% supportive, had the Mc Gorty Family Reunion not been cancelled this year, I can't imagine my aunts, uncles, and cousins having the same reaction. It's not like I can magically summon my friend each time I have to tell a stranger I chose to leave my job (especially when there are so many who don't have them), or offer the excuse that, really, I've been doing plenty in the interim like writing, and experimenting with cooking, and teaching myself to speak Italian (hello Rosetta Stone), as well as looking for work in my field of study (which I should have done 4 years ago, but was too intimidated). Having a job also means having a sense of purpose, but it seems making a lot of money has become the predominant definition of success.

Knowledge is power, said Francis Beacon. Well, Frank, this is a motto I can totally get behind. Education is one of the great pursuits of life, not only because it can stretch your brain cells and put you in the running for financial success, but because, if treated respectfully, it can lead to fulfillment. For me, the "power" equates success of an enlightened nature, not a fiscal one (it wasn't always this way, but more on that later). And intelligence doesn't necessarily have to be achieved by a college degree -- it can be obtained through travel, through reading, through watching PBS.

For most of us, higher education is the more doable option, but it comes with a mighty price tag. The system, which once-upon-a-time was supposed to serve (Ancient Greece, Renaissance Germany, 1960s Berkely) has seduced us into thinking we can't be a contributing citizen without it. The idea of education as a tool for success has been replaced with a marketing strategy that makes you fear what you once were supposed to revere: without an education you won't have success. It echoes modern society's tenet that personal wealth is the ultimate goal. My first scholastic memories are of my father drilling into my brain the essentialness of a college degree. In my household, there was simply no other option. I was a willing disciple of this doctrine because my parents were uneducated -- and they suffered the burdens of living lower-middle class in one of the most expensive states in the union. "You don't want to end up like your mother and I. A degree will get you a good job." If these were the rules, I was happy to follow them -- I hated growing up poor. But my own perceptions were skewed -- I didn't want to go to college because I wanted to learn, I wanted to go to college because I wanted to get rich.

So I chose a highly respected, out-of-state institution and, irony of all ironies, am now just as poor as a result. Semester after semester, my debt kept accumulating: want to take summer classes? Take another loan. Want to study abroad? Take another loan.

After sophomore year, this started to deeply worry me. I was losing sleep, thinking of that number growing and growing until it was so large it eclipsed any pride in the degree itself. My father's assurances about finding financial stability with my fancy degree did little to assuage my fears. Who cares if I'm smart (which I assure you, I'm not), I'll be debt for the rest of my natural life. Graduation came and went and while I found work, it was nowhere near enough to supplement my loan balance. My monthly student loan payment is almost as much as a mortgage, but I do not live the life of financial burden my parents did. Not because I learned from the best scholars, but because I learned from my parent's mistakes.

I digress. And I'm not here to blame the system (well, not entirely). Running an institution is costly, and there are ways I could have avoided my fate had I been a bit more pragmatic. While life experience is an educational tool not to be ignored, academia most certainly has it's merits. College is a worthwhile experience. And there's nothing wrong with wanting a life that includes a big house and a nice car (if that's your fancy). Capitalism may be the preferred alternative to, say, Communism, but it presents ethically questionable ideals at it's core. Consumerism funds Capitalism, and the obsession with having the latest thing like, right now is getting more and more out of hand. And consumerism leads to financing which leads to debt (as my parents know all too well). Everything on a contract, everything inside a loan. The need to make a lot of money these days is simply to keep up with our overtaxed spending habits.

Money begets greed, humanity's greatest sin. It leads to disrespect and ignorance of the basics in life: a laugh with friends, appreciating nature, cooking a meal. Truly, all we need, yet held less and less in the modern world's esteem. Even more tragic, we're forgetting that the most important and valuable experience in life is to develop a strong character, not a six-figure salary. We value a good job over character development, the very thing Socrates, Jesus, Shakespeare, and the Dali Lama spent (and spend) their lives exploring.

I'm no saint: I'm dazzled by technology, I'm envious of celebrities and their endless 4-star vacations. And I get so caught up in this crap it hinders me from the more fulfilling enterprise: taking the time to respect the basics. With so much coming at you, it's becoming harder and harder, but I've been working diligently this summer (just not in a 9-to-5 environment). I applaud Traci for being so forthcoming, and I hope, in the future, I have the courage to follow suit.