Saturday, January 16, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Well I Guess There is a Silver Lining After All.
http://www.usnews.com/money/careers/articles/2009/12/28/curator.html
US News & World Report recently ranked the top 50 best careers of 2010. One of them was (drum roll please) Curator. Yay! Too bad the demand for curators doesn't meet the number of people thinking they are curators.
Every year, universities and art schools are pumping out more and more graduates who are expecting to find a career in the arts. What they generally never tell you is that you're university will not help you try and find a job. I have been laughed at by so many career counselors, it's actually kind of sad. I once asked about job postings in the arts. My undergrad career counselor literally said: "Don't waste you're time looking for a job in the arts. Now, I have an opening at a car dealership. Why don't you apply to this?"
Yeah. Really helpful. It has taken the past four years to accumulate the information I have on art jobs.
There is no easy answer like there are for secretaries, sales, business, etc. Lawyers, doctors, my 90 year old neighbor who was a housewife her entire life.... they all have better odds at finding a job than someone who wants to into the arts (this is purely based on observation). It takes years to earn a decent living in the arts. I blame this on the fact that most galleries, museums, art centers, etc. do not receive the funding that they need. Since the mid-1980's the government has serious slashed the funding to the arts. (When PBS says that Big Bird could literally be living on the streets, they really do mean it!)
If you want to work as a gallery attendant/curatorial assistant/etc., you either need:
1. no to low student debt. 2. a trust fund. 3. about four other jobs 4. or a combination of all.
This doesn't make the field impossible. If you have a graduate degree the field is a little better. You could theoretically find jobs that pay $35,000-$40,000. (Please note that an MBA would get you $120,000 in your first year.) So I guess I should be happy that my field is going to be hiring an additional 2,700 people this year. Now, to beat out the other 50,000 job applicants!
US News & World Report recently ranked the top 50 best careers of 2010. One of them was (drum roll please) Curator. Yay! Too bad the demand for curators doesn't meet the number of people thinking they are curators.
Every year, universities and art schools are pumping out more and more graduates who are expecting to find a career in the arts. What they generally never tell you is that you're university will not help you try and find a job. I have been laughed at by so many career counselors, it's actually kind of sad. I once asked about job postings in the arts. My undergrad career counselor literally said: "Don't waste you're time looking for a job in the arts. Now, I have an opening at a car dealership. Why don't you apply to this?"
Yeah. Really helpful. It has taken the past four years to accumulate the information I have on art jobs.
There is no easy answer like there are for secretaries, sales, business, etc. Lawyers, doctors, my 90 year old neighbor who was a housewife her entire life.... they all have better odds at finding a job than someone who wants to into the arts (this is purely based on observation). It takes years to earn a decent living in the arts. I blame this on the fact that most galleries, museums, art centers, etc. do not receive the funding that they need. Since the mid-1980's the government has serious slashed the funding to the arts. (When PBS says that Big Bird could literally be living on the streets, they really do mean it!)
If you want to work as a gallery attendant/curatorial assistant/etc., you either need:
1. no to low student debt. 2. a trust fund. 3. about four other jobs 4. or a combination of all.
This doesn't make the field impossible. If you have a graduate degree the field is a little better. You could theoretically find jobs that pay $35,000-$40,000. (Please note that an MBA would get you $120,000 in your first year.) So I guess I should be happy that my field is going to be hiring an additional 2,700 people this year. Now, to beat out the other 50,000 job applicants!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
And the Refrain Goes...
"I need a job first." "I can't until I get a paycheck." "No job, no food."
These are the refrains I have adopted to my boyfriend's suggestions. No, I can't play the new StarTrek beta because I have job applications piling up. No, I can't run to the grocery store on my way back. I can't afford to. No, I can't go with you to the beach tomorrow. I can't justify sitting on the sand when bills are piling up.
Ugh, unemployment is a complete strain on our relationship. I wonder if we were both employed if this would be as tough as it is. I feel completely guilty about going out with friends. I spent $15 the other night. The panic attack that ensued there after was so bad I almost had to go to the ER. My boyfriend has always been incredibly understanding about this, however, we need groceries. We need toilet paper. We need basic items and I can not contribute. If I do run over to a friend's place, it would make sense and help out a lot of if I could just run an errand or two. (Especially since we live in the suburbs and have only one car). Yet I can't contribute. I am dependent on him, more and more as time goes on.
I am ready for a job. In fact, I have been ready since May 2009. Ok. So if I don't get a job by the end of next week I am off to the recruiter's office.
These are the refrains I have adopted to my boyfriend's suggestions. No, I can't play the new StarTrek beta because I have job applications piling up. No, I can't run to the grocery store on my way back. I can't afford to. No, I can't go with you to the beach tomorrow. I can't justify sitting on the sand when bills are piling up.
Ugh, unemployment is a complete strain on our relationship. I wonder if we were both employed if this would be as tough as it is. I feel completely guilty about going out with friends. I spent $15 the other night. The panic attack that ensued there after was so bad I almost had to go to the ER. My boyfriend has always been incredibly understanding about this, however, we need groceries. We need toilet paper. We need basic items and I can not contribute. If I do run over to a friend's place, it would make sense and help out a lot of if I could just run an errand or two. (Especially since we live in the suburbs and have only one car). Yet I can't contribute. I am dependent on him, more and more as time goes on.
I am ready for a job. In fact, I have been ready since May 2009. Ok. So if I don't get a job by the end of next week I am off to the recruiter's office.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
How Do You Say That?
The longer I am back in Florida the more confused I become about things. The more confused I become about my relationship, employment situations, housing situations,... everything. Okay. That's a bit melodramatic. Not everything. Just one thing. The relationship hit rock bottom and has started to pick back up. Things are going much better, but they are nowhere near perfection. There is still a lot of distance compared to this summer. I knew that things would never be the same. I guess I am just having a hard time being homeless. By homeless I don't mean houseless. I can stay here but this is not my home. He has made that clear. I need move on. It really is for the best. Perhaps I should back up a bit.
We started dating in January 2009. Things were great. We committed really fast to the relationship. In part this was due to the fact that I had applied to Ph.D. programs and he was going to law school. We knew going into this that we would probably be a long distance relationship. Then I found out that I didn't get into any of my Ph.D. programs. We talked about it (but clearly not thoroughly enough) and I was going to with him to D.C. where he was going to law. We talked about marriage, kids, a lot of things. When I graduated I had no where to go. My lease was up and I was going to move back to MN. That was until he asked me to move in with him. I moved in and could not find a job. Not here in Florida, Minnesota, Timbuktu, or anywhere. I have applied to so many positions that there are too many to count. I should mention that these were primarily in my field. Regardless of my employments situation, his place became our place (at his insistence). For the first time in years I felt like I had a home. An actual home was something that I have always wanted and never really had. It didn't matter that he inherited the place with all of his grandparents furniture. I turned a blind eye to all of the unfinished remodeling and boxes filled with his grandparents belongings. I never questioned why he didn't get his mail here or why all of his belonging (besides his PS3 and massive flat screen) were still at his parents. None of that mattered. This was home. We were going to move soon anyways.
Then a job opened up in my hometown in Minnesota. I had to take it because I had used all of my savings, sold my car, and was about to join the army. I would only be gone for a few months. Then things started to fall apart after two months. The move was really sudden (4 hours from application to buying my ticket) and we didn't have much time to talk things through. After two months we started to fight... a lot. It came out that he never wanted to go to law school. I worked at a large factory in a small town. When he worked days, I was working evenings (3 PM to 1 AM). I would call after work like he requested. Unfortunately, I began to call more and more. Often times crying my eyes out. I was so depressed. I felt like I failed at everything. I was burning him out from all of the phone calls. Five days before I was to fly back he told me that this was never my home. That I was not welcome back. I was only able to stay here while I sorted my affairs and had to be out by Christmas.
When I landed, things were icy at best. He stayed out all night with friends, telling me he was at his parents. I figured this out when his parents would call demanding to know where he was the following morning. Eventually we started to talk. It came out that he was hurt, that I was hurt, so hurt we didn't know about anything anymore. Now I am here. At times things seem like they were six months ago. It's getting harder and harder to pack my life away. It's becoming easier and easier to fall into old patterns. But then I remind myself that he is selling the condo. That it hasn't even been a month yet. That this isn't my home.
I often need to remind myself of the facts. Fact one: I am crashing at my boyfriend's place in a gated community far from everything. Even if I had a job, I would need reliable transportation to it. William has a car. I don't. I can't depend on him for a ride to work everyday. Fact two: It is becoming clearer and clearer that my future is not in Florida, unless I find employment soon. He is committed to living here. His family is here, his friends are here. My friends are everywhere. Some here. Some there. They are all across the nation. Fact three: My desires, my life choices, my needs are not taken into consideration. He is going to stay here and if we want this to work I need to be here. It doesn't matter that I am not happy here, that I am 1,500 miles away from my family. He needs to be here for his parents. He can go to school here and live for cheap here. Fact four: I miss my family. Most of my friends live up north. I miss the cold, and the snow. I miss diversity, and being able to go out and not have to ask my friends for a ride. I miss public transportation. I miss being able to walk where I need to go. I miss being able to spend all day at a coffee shop and only pay a few bucks for tea or coffee. I miss my old life.
Now I am left with a dilemma. On the one hand I want to tell him that I miss our home. That I want to keep living with him. On the other hand I miss my life. I guess I just don't understand why we can't move to an apartment downtown... and give it another go for awhile. Or why he won't throw caution to the wind and move up north for awhile. I just have a lot to sort through.
We started dating in January 2009. Things were great. We committed really fast to the relationship. In part this was due to the fact that I had applied to Ph.D. programs and he was going to law school. We knew going into this that we would probably be a long distance relationship. Then I found out that I didn't get into any of my Ph.D. programs. We talked about it (but clearly not thoroughly enough) and I was going to with him to D.C. where he was going to law. We talked about marriage, kids, a lot of things. When I graduated I had no where to go. My lease was up and I was going to move back to MN. That was until he asked me to move in with him. I moved in and could not find a job. Not here in Florida, Minnesota, Timbuktu, or anywhere. I have applied to so many positions that there are too many to count. I should mention that these were primarily in my field. Regardless of my employments situation, his place became our place (at his insistence). For the first time in years I felt like I had a home. An actual home was something that I have always wanted and never really had. It didn't matter that he inherited the place with all of his grandparents furniture. I turned a blind eye to all of the unfinished remodeling and boxes filled with his grandparents belongings. I never questioned why he didn't get his mail here or why all of his belonging (besides his PS3 and massive flat screen) were still at his parents. None of that mattered. This was home. We were going to move soon anyways.
Then a job opened up in my hometown in Minnesota. I had to take it because I had used all of my savings, sold my car, and was about to join the army. I would only be gone for a few months. Then things started to fall apart after two months. The move was really sudden (4 hours from application to buying my ticket) and we didn't have much time to talk things through. After two months we started to fight... a lot. It came out that he never wanted to go to law school. I worked at a large factory in a small town. When he worked days, I was working evenings (3 PM to 1 AM). I would call after work like he requested. Unfortunately, I began to call more and more. Often times crying my eyes out. I was so depressed. I felt like I failed at everything. I was burning him out from all of the phone calls. Five days before I was to fly back he told me that this was never my home. That I was not welcome back. I was only able to stay here while I sorted my affairs and had to be out by Christmas.
When I landed, things were icy at best. He stayed out all night with friends, telling me he was at his parents. I figured this out when his parents would call demanding to know where he was the following morning. Eventually we started to talk. It came out that he was hurt, that I was hurt, so hurt we didn't know about anything anymore. Now I am here. At times things seem like they were six months ago. It's getting harder and harder to pack my life away. It's becoming easier and easier to fall into old patterns. But then I remind myself that he is selling the condo. That it hasn't even been a month yet. That this isn't my home.
I often need to remind myself of the facts. Fact one: I am crashing at my boyfriend's place in a gated community far from everything. Even if I had a job, I would need reliable transportation to it. William has a car. I don't. I can't depend on him for a ride to work everyday. Fact two: It is becoming clearer and clearer that my future is not in Florida, unless I find employment soon. He is committed to living here. His family is here, his friends are here. My friends are everywhere. Some here. Some there. They are all across the nation. Fact three: My desires, my life choices, my needs are not taken into consideration. He is going to stay here and if we want this to work I need to be here. It doesn't matter that I am not happy here, that I am 1,500 miles away from my family. He needs to be here for his parents. He can go to school here and live for cheap here. Fact four: I miss my family. Most of my friends live up north. I miss the cold, and the snow. I miss diversity, and being able to go out and not have to ask my friends for a ride. I miss public transportation. I miss being able to walk where I need to go. I miss being able to spend all day at a coffee shop and only pay a few bucks for tea or coffee. I miss my old life.
Now I am left with a dilemma. On the one hand I want to tell him that I miss our home. That I want to keep living with him. On the other hand I miss my life. I guess I just don't understand why we can't move to an apartment downtown... and give it another go for awhile. Or why he won't throw caution to the wind and move up north for awhile. I just have a lot to sort through.
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