“Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.”
― Confucius
I’ve never really had a job where I felt like I was working. Don’t get me wrong—there were plenty of days I didn’t want to go to my job, but once there, I never felt like I was working.
When I was lifeguarding, I liked being there. I liked my job. I liked the people I worked with. I wasn’t crazy about jumping into freezing cold water (by Hawaii’s standards) to save the same kid all day after repeatedly telling him not to jump off the rocks, but even jumping in after that kid day after day was worth it because I was helping someone. I was saving someone’s life, someone’s child, someone’s future spouse, someone’s future grandparent. The freezing water was worth it.
As a tutor at the Reading/Writing Center, I never saved anyone’s life…but I saved plenty of grades (or at least, I like to think I did). I loved my job because it meant I got to work with English, one of my favorite subjects, and share my knowledge with others. I got to explain why we use “the” and when we use “a/an.” It was a mentally exhausting job, and I loved it. Even though that job got a little tedious sometimes (like when you felt like you’d tutored the same paper fifty times, or when the same student would come in everyday, ask for a walk-in and then sit there and expect you to do their homework), I still loved it. I felt like I was making a difference, even if it was only to one student, it was worth all the craziness because I was helping people.
I taught English 101, and boy was that a challenge, but it was a challenge I welcomed. I had some students that weren’t the easiest to teach, and others that broke my heart, but I was helping people. I tried to teach my students how to really think. I tried to introduce them to literature in a way that would make them love it
I now work at Walmart. I’ve worked there for about a week and I don’t really feel like I’m helping anybody by stocking mounds of frosting. Sure, I’m helping promote heart attacks and poor cholesterol, but somehow that feels contrary to my previous lifesaving experiences. I feel like everyday is work. It’s a chore to get there, it’s a chore to be there and my only reward is getting to go home. I was told that you don’t need a college education because you can get ahead in life with Walmart. That you’d have to be crazy to want to leave walmart with all the ‘wonderful’ opportunities it offers you. Fine. Call me crazy. I’ll take the student loans and an education over stocking boxes and ripping my hands up for eight hours any day. Yeah, initially, with student loans and fresh out of college, a manager at walmart might be making more money than someone who went to school, but I don’t know if you’ve ever played the game of Life, but going to college ensures you make more money than not.
But is money what it’s all about? Well for me, working at walmart? Yes. I’m only there to get a paycheck. I like the people I work with, but I don’t like my job. What it comes down to for me is making money so I can be Crazy and go to grad school. Is making money what I’m really concerned about in the long run? Nope. I’m concerned about Confucius. I want to love what I do so I’ll never work another day in my life. And if I happen to get paid more than a manager at walmart, well then that’s just a plus.
