Jobs
Been enjoying the “About My Job” series over at Andrew Sullivan’s crib. Two of them in particular resonated. A community college professor (and apologies, ’cause it’s kinda long):
I believe the assumption is that instructors are the product of a liberal-biased education and then we decide to join that liberal bastion and are just going with the established flow. For those of us in the junior college ranks, however, I think there is a more concrete reason for the lean left, rather than the abstract leftism offered in certain courses we took as students.
When I hear friends and family offer specific illustrations of why they list in a more conservative direction, it often has to do with anecdotes revolving around the person they check out at the grocery store using food stamps to buy a jug of Carlo Rossi zinfandel or spending their welfare check on some other decidedly non-essential item. Or the stories they hear from mutual friends in law enforcement or social services who deal with the dregs of society on a daily basis. Who could possibly support any form of social safety net when a portion of that net will be devoted to such vermin?
Well, on an equally anecdotal and emotional level (not pillars of rational thought, granted, but clearly major inspirations for why and how most people choose a side) we here at a community college tend to see the better side of our fellow humans who are struggling on the low end of the economic ladder. We see them trying to better themselves, working hard in spite of their conditions to try and take a step up said ladder. Hell, some of them may even be spending public money on a pack of Winstons, but we don’t see that. We see them in their best light, for the most part.
And that’s what I want people to know about my job: I don’t have empathy for poor people because I read Sinclair Lewis or Karl Marx; I have it because I work in an environment in which I see them at their best. Some of them are clearly not cut out for college, some of them are unpleasant to deal with, some of them probably do spend their meager checks on stupid things. But they are also trying to change their lot. And they have much less margin for error in doing so. If I taught at an elementary school or high school, I may assume that the kids in my classes were on their way to the destinies that social research and my own perceptions had fated for them. If I taught at a university, I would never meet people who take an English class so they can legitimately compete for a promotion at the hotel chain in which they work, or pass the nursing program to get their AA degree. The world would be easier to categorize. But since I work in the gray area between, I know that it’s not that easy, and that people defy your definitions for them all the time.
The whole thing also strikes me as interesting because it demonstrates how much of our “knowledge” is merely anecdotal. I had a good-natured argument over the weekend with a Twitter buddy who supports draconian sentencing of criminals. He defended this by talking about a woman he knew who was stabbed outside a movie theater by a recently released convict who just wanted to hurt “somebody white,” and also mentioned a family destroyed by a drunk-driving naval officer who escaped punishment. I don’t have any more information than this, and didn’t press him for details. I merely pointed out that modern Penology seems to indicate that deterrence wasn’t a factor in preventing most crime, and incapacitation tended to just produce hardened criminals who were more likely to be recidivist and stabby.
Politicians often talk about how they met Dorothy Babool in East Gabip, Iowa, and she patiently explained how such and such federal policy had deprived her of the money she needed for her excema medication which is why her skin was bright yellow and sloughing away in chunks the size of Delmonico steaks, and this means we have to change such and such federal policy so folks like Dorothy get the help they need. (On the left, it’s usually a policy that helps pay for Dorothy’s medication; on the right, it’s usually a tax-cut for people with Dorothy’s specific medical condition.) This works because while people may not know anyone with horrible leprosy, many of them can certainly identify with someone like Dorothy because she’s the same race, and roughly the same age and economic status.
Americans don’t deal well with statistics like “46 million American citizens with no health insurance whatsoever.” They respond better to anecdotal evidence, which is of course the least reliable evidence of all.
The other, largely unrelated Job, was Baroque Countertenor:
Being a sort of lower level, highly-specialized professional classical vocalist is really fun (I sing mostly in smaller pro choruses and as a soloist in local concerts), but can be annoying. For example, whenever I tell anyone what I do, they try to helpfully summarize by declaring I’m an “opera singer,” which I’m absolutely not. Then when I tell people that countertenors sing in their falsetto voices, they also helpfully summarize, “like a castrato?” No, there are no more castrati in the world, sorry.
Most annoyingly however is how, especially in North America, many assume that because singing is a wonderful gift and so much fun to do, I shouldn’t worry too much about remuneration. I can’t live exclusively off my earnings (although if I lived in Europe I probably could), and I am paid a fraction of the money of my instrumental counterparts, even though my skill is just as specialized. I find too many people associate the words “community” with “choir”—and friends of mine continue to express incredulity that I as a professional chorister with some of the best early music groups in North America should deign to get money for it. Working in the arts, as liberating and wonderful as it is, is a specialized livelihood, and it’s really hard breaking through the culture here where kicking a ball accurately is worth millions of dollars whereas perfect sight-reading, constant vocal practice, and good knowledge of period performance and ornamentation is considered a fun hobby for just about anyone.
Man, do I feel his dog. I realized some time ago that the thing I do best above all others is sing as part of a choir. I certainly enjoy singing solo, but I’m never going to be Sherrill Milnes. My skills (the aforementioned sight-reading, good performance practice, as well as a bizarre ability to concentrate at 3-hour rehearsals that is completely unavailable to me in any other part of my life) are perfect for being the section leader in a good choir. Sadly, if I were to quit my job and try to make a living as a professional chorister, I’d take something like a 70% cut in pay, if I were lucky, and took every single job offered me. The best choral musicians move on to become directors and choirmasters, but at age 32 that boat has probably sailed, and I’m a particularly poor motivator and people manager.
Semi-related: Happy New Year to all my Chosen friends! (I only remembered it because I’m singing the High Holy Days at a local synagogue this year.)
Golly, this post is just all over the place. Sorry about that. I’ll try and do better, you know, at some later date.
