Work, Money, Status, Worldy Goodies

The economic news highlighting the deafening sound of firings all over America, much dialog over the subject of work, unemployment leading to dire consequences to some major life style changes for some, etc., is going on all over, but more so in the media. This morning, a Q&A on NPR on unemployment benefits, who qualifies, etc. made me think about this topic, not that this is the first time I've thought about it.

My first exposure to working people was to members of my own family and circle of family friends. Most of them worked for the Government, led a middle class life. Their housing was taken care of by the government and so was their medical needs. Most of those who worked were men. The few women who worked were a handful of highly ambitious ones occupying high posts, others who had no choice but to work to support themselves, and yet others who were mostly doctors, and educators. As for myself, I thought that most likely I too might end up in the government, my only motivation being, wanting to amount to something in life. In other words, I didn't think I needed anything major like a job to navigate through life and if at all I worked it'd be to look good in others' eyes: that magical state of being called status. To have status, the job too must have status.

Enter the element of surprise in life, I ended up in the U.S. Not as a wife like in most cases where immigrants are concerned, but as a dependent daughter of a government official. A master’s degree led to a two-year job stint at a college. It felt good to make money, though I didn’t have much use for this money, as Dad was still providing for me. Again, the need for status motivated me to take up an opportunity that came my way to get a doctorate from a name-brand college. Boston University had a nice ring to its name.

As my journey through life continued, I moved to New York, worked in the city, and finally found a lot of use for all that money I made. Work was challenging and good, but somehow, it felt like, I was working basically because money was a good thing to have. Somehow, work did not define my self-worth, though nor my happiness. Happiness came more from being recognized for my special qualities rather than for what I had accomplished. So developing my personality became a more appealing occupation. A job didn’t necessarily provide opportunities for this. In fact, it came in the way sometime. In fact, I began to see money as a source of financial security but not necessarily a source of contentment or self-growth.

So, now in the face of massive unemployment all around, with so much talk about work everywhere, and also observing folks who in the name of work have sacrificed some of life’s higher joys, I’m beginning to ask if everybody really needs to work in the more recent sense of the concept or could some folks not really obsess over this kind of work? Could we afford to turn the clock back to a time when only those who wanted to work or had to work worked and the rest kept themselves busy doing what they enjoyed most on their own terms? To more genteel times?

Those who know better however could ask, who the hell were the ones who could afford such a genteel life style? Only the privileged. Then again, how long could the privileged stay privileged?

Uncertainty being the name of the game, I guess one should take just one day at a time, try to enjoy what every moment has to offer even while searching for meaningful work that also pays well.

Ciao!
Ro