“Do what you love” disguises the fact that being able to choose a career primarily for personal reward is a privilege, a sign of socioeconomic class. Even if a self-employed graphic designer had parents who could pay for art school and co-sign a lease for a slick Brooklyn apartment, she can bestow DWYL as career advice upon those covetous of her success.
If we believe that working as a Silicon Valley entrepreneur or a museum publicist or a think-tank acolyte is essential to being true to ourselves, what do we believe about the inner lives and hopes of those who clean hotel rooms and stock shelves at big-box stores? The answer is: nothing.
Do what you love, love what you do: An omnipresent mantra that’s bad for work and workers. (via bakcwadrs)
Yeah, my inner life today is no richer than it was when I worked at Steak ‘n Shake.
I don’t think we should measure the value of a person’s professional life by whether they have esteemed or lucrative work. The best formulation of professional value I’ve come across is from Tim O’Reilly: “Do things that need doing.”
Stocking shelves? Needs doing. Serving food? Needs doing. Collecting garbage? Needs doing. Editing wikipedia pages? Needs doing. Figuring out how to maximize fees on checking accounts? Doesn’t need doing. Engaging trolls on the Internet? Doesn’t need doing. Volunteering at animal shelters? Needs doing.
Ultimately, for me at least, the measure of work’s value is not expressed best by money or love. The question is whether something that needs to be done is getting done.
Breaking my tumblr silence to reblogged this. I loved this article when I first read it, and this is so important. It says so many things I was thinking but couldn’t articulate.
These days, sexism is a bit like Meryl Streep in a new film: sometimes you don’t recognize it straightaway. You can be 20 minutes in, enjoying all the dinosaurs and the space fights and the homesick Confederate soldiers, before you go, “Oh, my God-under the wig! THAT’S MERYL.”
— Caitlin Moran, How To Be a Woman
There’s a McDonalds across the street from my new apartment. How long until I give in? Sometimes I feel like my life is just me constantly trying to suppress a craving for McDonalds. Not drinking eliminates the only excuse people ever seem to give for going there. And I’m not in school anymore so I can’t act like a ~*~reckless student~*~.
"Your choices will change the world." From the desk of Katie S.
Breaking my tumblr silence to share my favorite mug!
Haha I meant like, I don't know who made the gif. Obvs drunk Tarzan on Ice Floyd is my spirit animal like 40% of the time.
Ok good, because I was like “there is no way she doesn’t know this gif…”
Why am I just scrolling through the In N’ Out tag? Why did I ever leave California? WHY?