Working world a looming reality

By Breena Kerr

Flyers were everywhere.

Looming before me was a modern tribute to the gods of student resumés: the internship board.

On my way to petition to graduate this past week, I noticed the threatening board again, and with more angst than normal.

Where had all the time gone?

How had I become a senior? I all of a sudden realized that my work experience was either menial, nepotistic or something in which I would now rather die than do for a living.

I was overwhelmed by the certainty that three weeks after graduation I'd be found dead from sunstroke by my parents' pool, forever to lie beneath the ground under the stone inscription: "She died of acute boredom."

And the worst part is, I'm to blame.

So many teachers have told me that internships are the key to employment after graduation.

The campus calendar is full of resumé workshops and internship fairs.

Grimacing, I flashed back to the hundred times I've passed the career office with nothing but Benson fries on my mind.

The heavy sense of dread weighing down on me is accompanied by a question: How the hell do those super-achievers do it?

All my life I've longed to be one of those students who gets written about in the school newspaper.

Surely they have no problem getting a job after graduation, right?

"X" won the equestrian championship! "Y" won a national creative writing competition! "Z" speaks five languages and recently published a nationally recognized essay on the microeconomics of development in Africa after spending nine months teaching English in a small Ethiopian village!

How is it that for the last four years I've been distracted by minor crises and have missed all of the high-profile stepping stones?

So what that I'm healthy?

So what that I have a family and friends who love me?

So what that I'll graduate this year?

Suddenly, it all seems so petty. And empty.

Because I'm pretty sure no one will write an article about how I survived my last break-up, or how I completed my thesis -- as epic as those events seemed to me.

"Don't bother me with your wasted college years," you say.

Tsk, tsk.

I'd wager that most college students have felt the same -- and unjustly.

Our culture is obsessed with idols. Fame of any kind creates an elevation and an affirmation of worth.

When was the last time you passed through the checkout counter without being assailed with images of celebrities who are more attractive, wealthier or more talented than you? How about more successful?

Maybe this is just me, but when did we stop appreciating the little things in life?

When did we give up on the idea that the studio audience is going to stand up and start cheering for us?

"Good job, Billy. Your girlfriend dumped you, but you made it home completely tanked without losing your untied shoe."

"Congratulations, Sara! You may be broke, but you managed to pay for your lunch using only the spare change in your book bag."

"Wow, Jessie, you may be late for class, but you successfully evaded that speeding ticket -- and he didn't even check the trunk."

So rather than melt into a puddle of despair, I've decided to get an internship over the summer, send the documentary I made last quarter to film festivals and submit every good photo I've ever taken to the Santa Clara Review.

Better late than never, right?

I'll give in to the traditional milestones as long as no one tries to tell me that the little victories in life are any less satisfying.

Breena Kerr is a senior communication major.