Within the sibs, one pursued a degree and was deeply-engaged but dropped out with one quarter to go. Unknown if she had any employment plans based on it but she never went after them. Another took a degree in I'm not sure what but it developed into making architectural models which were much sought. How much the degree had to do with that wasn't clear. In my case, there may have been some vague and distant view of becoming a prof, just like dear ol' Dad, anything of that nature is far too vague for any substance. Mostly I didn't expect anything except the revelations of it and I wasn't disappointed. In fact, I'm greatly pleased I did it and the experience has enriched my life in multiple ways although not typically financially.
Of the nephews and nieces whose education is known, two achieved the degrees and one did not. Analysis of why is not the point. The degrees were in art or in history and both had to have been aware this was not a career pursuit unless you turn around after to teach. The Art degree doesn't make you an artist but rather helps you focus your skills while exposing the student to more artists than he or she may ever have imagined. It enhances the kid's awareness of art and what more can a kid who loves art hope to find.
The History degree gave a deep knowledge of the history of wherever he studied which was heavily-American but not limited to it. There's almost nothing one can do with such a degree except to welcome the knowledge and the insights one may draw from it. Cadillac Man took such a degree as well and that wasn't even close to his actual career path but he did well in that pursuit and now is highly-cheerful about being able to walk away from it and devote as much time as he likes ... yep, to reading history.
It's unknown about others in the immediate tree but with these it was clear and it also leads to a hefty bump on graduation because now wtf. Through that point is heavy parental support but after it's time for those birds to fly and wtf do I do now. It's their blessing they didn't come out of it chained to the ground with debt but still comes wtf do I do.
Well, you could become a bank teller. That's not facetious as they're not good jobs but they give an income in an easily-obtainable position and that gives a base to find a better one. So long as you present well, have a clean police record, and are reasonably good with arithmetic and getting along with people, it shouldn't be a difficult job to get although it may be necessary to move.
From that Boy Scout image and a bank background, you're immaculate applying anywhere else so such a job really does give a foundation even if it's not much of one within the bank. Elsewhere it may well pay a whole lot better. That's not to say the kid can can use the teller skills elsewhere but rather that customer-facing experience without punching anyone has value.
Keep in mind, you just got out of high school, you're essentially debt-free, and you probably want to buy some clothes anyway. You definitely want to buy a car unless Dad gave you one of those as well but that's rare or at least it was. So long as the kid stays cool on the car purchase and remembers it's a minimum wage job, there should be room for clothes and then the kid is ready to represent anywhere.
Yeah, and don't wear those disco clothes to work or you will be pegged as a party boy / girl and that's never going to help your cause. Too much make-up is a killer also. You have to stay cool and understand it's hostile territory in which you're trying to survive. Don't mistake colleagues for friends unless you know them extremely well.
(Ed: this is all so mainstream!)
Yes, of course it is because that's where the money is unless you are exceptionally good with your art, whatever it may be. That may be motorcycle mechanics since the best ones do things other mortals cannot do.
(Ed: is there a school for that?)
I seriously doubt it. You can learn how to replace clutches, valves, etc from mechanic school but the Touch is something only a few get. The good ones can listen to a motor running and tell you what's wrong with it, possibly by touching it somewhere nearby at the same time. Unless the motor is afire, I only know whether the bitch is running or not.
There was some idea in me at one time toward Renaissance knowledge and one of the sibs chided the idea as antedeluvian thinking but I still fancy the idea while also specializing so much in various things no-one understands what I'm saying, in part due to the content and in part my inability to adequately express it.
Which leads to closing with one of my all-time favorite sci-fi short stories but, regrettably, I don't recall who wrote it.
There was a space station orbiting the Earth and it housed some space alien creature which could not tolerate Earth's atmosphere. The reason for having it here was it exuded some type of magical substance which imbued great wisdom or some such and was immensely-valued on Earth. Therefore, an astronaut was assigned on a voluntary basis to serve a period in the space station. The reason it was voluntary was the astronaut would return unharmed but crazy as a loon, unintelligible to anyone.
The story is from the view of the astronaut as he serves out his time up there.
At first the space alien communicates rubbishy gobblegook no-one understands but he has the feeling if he thinks about it he will understand. It's an immensely-frustrating process because it's so slow but he does make crawling progress until the Eureka moment. Finally he understands what it is saying and he has achieved the seemingly impossible.
He returned to Earth not long after that, eager to tell people of the incredible revelations he had seen, but no-one understood a word he was saying and thought he was another tragedy of the space station who could now only speak gibberish.
- with all respect to the original author after this crapulation of a summary
Of the nephews and nieces whose education is known, two achieved the degrees and one did not. Analysis of why is not the point. The degrees were in art or in history and both had to have been aware this was not a career pursuit unless you turn around after to teach. The Art degree doesn't make you an artist but rather helps you focus your skills while exposing the student to more artists than he or she may ever have imagined. It enhances the kid's awareness of art and what more can a kid who loves art hope to find.
The History degree gave a deep knowledge of the history of wherever he studied which was heavily-American but not limited to it. There's almost nothing one can do with such a degree except to welcome the knowledge and the insights one may draw from it. Cadillac Man took such a degree as well and that wasn't even close to his actual career path but he did well in that pursuit and now is highly-cheerful about being able to walk away from it and devote as much time as he likes ... yep, to reading history.
It's unknown about others in the immediate tree but with these it was clear and it also leads to a hefty bump on graduation because now wtf. Through that point is heavy parental support but after it's time for those birds to fly and wtf do I do now. It's their blessing they didn't come out of it chained to the ground with debt but still comes wtf do I do.
Well, you could become a bank teller. That's not facetious as they're not good jobs but they give an income in an easily-obtainable position and that gives a base to find a better one. So long as you present well, have a clean police record, and are reasonably good with arithmetic and getting along with people, it shouldn't be a difficult job to get although it may be necessary to move.
From that Boy Scout image and a bank background, you're immaculate applying anywhere else so such a job really does give a foundation even if it's not much of one within the bank. Elsewhere it may well pay a whole lot better. That's not to say the kid can can use the teller skills elsewhere but rather that customer-facing experience without punching anyone has value.
Keep in mind, you just got out of high school, you're essentially debt-free, and you probably want to buy some clothes anyway. You definitely want to buy a car unless Dad gave you one of those as well but that's rare or at least it was. So long as the kid stays cool on the car purchase and remembers it's a minimum wage job, there should be room for clothes and then the kid is ready to represent anywhere.
Yeah, and don't wear those disco clothes to work or you will be pegged as a party boy / girl and that's never going to help your cause. Too much make-up is a killer also. You have to stay cool and understand it's hostile territory in which you're trying to survive. Don't mistake colleagues for friends unless you know them extremely well.
(Ed: this is all so mainstream!)
Yes, of course it is because that's where the money is unless you are exceptionally good with your art, whatever it may be. That may be motorcycle mechanics since the best ones do things other mortals cannot do.
(Ed: is there a school for that?)
I seriously doubt it. You can learn how to replace clutches, valves, etc from mechanic school but the Touch is something only a few get. The good ones can listen to a motor running and tell you what's wrong with it, possibly by touching it somewhere nearby at the same time. Unless the motor is afire, I only know whether the bitch is running or not.
There was some idea in me at one time toward Renaissance knowledge and one of the sibs chided the idea as antedeluvian thinking but I still fancy the idea while also specializing so much in various things no-one understands what I'm saying, in part due to the content and in part my inability to adequately express it.
Which leads to closing with one of my all-time favorite sci-fi short stories but, regrettably, I don't recall who wrote it.
There was a space station orbiting the Earth and it housed some space alien creature which could not tolerate Earth's atmosphere. The reason for having it here was it exuded some type of magical substance which imbued great wisdom or some such and was immensely-valued on Earth. Therefore, an astronaut was assigned on a voluntary basis to serve a period in the space station. The reason it was voluntary was the astronaut would return unharmed but crazy as a loon, unintelligible to anyone.
The story is from the view of the astronaut as he serves out his time up there.
At first the space alien communicates rubbishy gobblegook no-one understands but he has the feeling if he thinks about it he will understand. It's an immensely-frustrating process because it's so slow but he does make crawling progress until the Eureka moment. Finally he understands what it is saying and he has achieved the seemingly impossible.
He returned to Earth not long after that, eager to tell people of the incredible revelations he had seen, but no-one understood a word he was saying and thought he was another tragedy of the space station who could now only speak gibberish.
- with all respect to the original author after this crapulation of a summary
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