What is "gainful employment", anyway?

When I was younger, I never really gave much thought to the process of finding a job. Then, a job was an extension of yourself. To six-year-old me, a doctor perpetually wore a white coat, stethoscope and one of those parabolic reflectors on his head. In essence, I saw the career overwhelming the individual, and maybe (on some level) I still do.

I had heard time and time again that I was "born" to be a writer, and I took that literally. Subconsciously, I believed that people just became what they were meant to be. I just assumed that people did what they were good at, loved their jobs, excelled in the work place. I assumed that there were plenty of jobs for all people, and that these jobs paid enough. Then, the homeless were lazy, and the overworked, graveyard-shift employees were simply unlucky.

When it comes right down to it, I never gave much thought to the work that goes into building a career. I never considered all the training and hours of labor that went into becoming a doctor, or lawyer, or chef. And now that I'm at that point, I'm not sure what it is that's worth that time. I'm not sure if I want something bad enough to spend my entire life working for it.

The realization was an overwhelming one, but I never really considered what it all meant until I read John Green's Paper Towns. In one particular scene, the titular and mysterious Margo Roth Spiegelman expresses her frustration with the expectations of those around her the entire college process and experience to Q, the protagonist of the novel.
 

"Did you know that for pretty much the entire history of the human  species, the average life span was less than thirty years? You could count on ten years or so of real adulthood, right? There was noplanning for retirement, There was no planning for a career. Therewas no planning. No time for planning. No time for a future. 

But then the life spans started getting longer, and people started having more and more future. And now life has become the future. Every moment of your life is lived for the future--you go to high school soyou can go to college so you can get a good job so you can get a  nice house so you can afford to send your kids to college so they can get a good job so they can get a nice house so they can afford to send their kids to college."

The idea that John Green expresses through Margo is something I've been wrestling with, myself, and so it really struck a chord with me.As a soon-to-be college graduate, I spend a lot of time thinking about, preparing for, and working towards my career and the future. I've been taught to prepare and plan and toil away for the future, but when it gets right down to it, where's the time for living? But then, when I add the revelation that my life- all our lives - has been a series of events to prepare me to provide for my future offspring is a horrifying thought, but ultimately, a very true one.

Just think about it. In the United States we're required to educate ourselves until at least the age of 16 (although my town, and many others have recently raised the age to 18), and during that time we gain certain skills, (the ability to read, write, do basic math, and understand fundamental scientific concepts, and an understanding of our country's history to name a few). In high school, I learned Calculus (so I could do well on the SATs), Chemistry (because it was required for graduation), French (because it would improve my chances of getting accepted into college), and Honors/AP level classes (again, to improve the chances of getting into a good school). I worked hard to get good grades (once again, to prove myself and get into a good school).

I took the PSATs (ugh), enrolled in a semester-long SAT prep class, took three years of English with intergrated "SAT question preparation" lessons, and paid $60 to take the SATs, then another $60 to take it again (so I could get into a good college).

Upon getting into college, I worked hard to keep my GPA above a 3.7, added a second (and for all intents and purposes, useless) major in 20th century History, joined three honor societies, wrote for the school newspaper, held countless leadership positions (president, historian, secretary, student representative, you name it, really) all for my future employment/possible grad school.

And now, I'm applying to graduate school and a TA position so I can get a job, so I can afford to live my life and have a family. And all my work will be to ensure that my children get a good future.

With all this preparation, I know the odds are slim that I will be employed at all. And even if I am employed, the job I get will most likely not be the one I have been dreaming of. It will not be an extension of myself, which is kind of a bummer, which makes me wonder: what is it that I want? What will I do for me?

It's definitely something I'll be giving some serious thought.