Mediocrity

I was watching Seinfeld when I came upon the realization that George is a loser. A loser from all angles. He has stopped trying. And everyone else around him considers him a loser as well. A complete loser who is self-loathing and increasingly angry with himself for not being able to find work and be successful in his own definition. An underachiever and possibly, never-achiever. George's character prompted premontions of my own future where I face a dearth of jobs and a shortage of possibility for personal success (subjective as it is).

Never be complacent. Never settle. This comprises the advice that I've heard from my peers and from a few television shows. This is hard to believe because lately I've been succumbing to cynicism. I've grown increasingly reluctant in pursuing a better future. The future remains incredibly uncertain for me. And it is safe to say that I am partially giving up. I am entirely forfeiting my chances of becoming a traditional ho-dai, stereotypically successful Asian financier or doctor. I have set my sights on employment for the upcoming summer while finishing up my degree at Hunter College because I am so close to finishing. Had I given up I would have dropped out and enrolled in the work force as a manual laborer. I am partially influenced by my homeboy Joe who tirelessly works at a nail supply store. He rarely gives me glimpses of his work life, but I can imagine how much he becomes dispirited by such menial, rote labor.

I can't imagine myself working as a waiter. My enthusiasm will be at its peak during the first few days on the job. But after witnessing calamities in the kitchen, with staff, and having unwanted exchanges with the manager, I might change my mind in a heartbeat and cry for mom and dad's reassuring warmth. Clearly I am way over my head when it comes to assessing the situation. I never assess the situation for what it's worth and I never prepare myself adequately for what's coming. It has nothing to with premonition or expectancy. It has more to do with a sense of time. I am so happy-go-lucky that I don't expect the worst from people. I waste so much time and effort expecting the best from people that I waddle through classes being incredibly gullible, therefore I end up being taken advantage of, being made a fool. I can only imagine its repeat episode in any line of work. I can enter day one as an excited waiter who yearns to take every order and proffer a smile after each meal. I can even imagine collecting an overabundance of tips. But when day one simmers and passes, the incredible sense of boredom will settle over me like dust or debris. I will become amazingly jaded by my own experience, or even alienated by my surface acting. Or in some cases, the necessary deep acting that is enforced by managers.

Sartre's take on the waiter presents alienation and distress because of the failure to transcend the role of a waiter i.e. trying too hard to fulfill the waiter while trying hardest to transcend being a waiter only bolsters your state of waiterdom. I think that a waiter is a lowly, surly, invisible role because of its role abundance. There are an oversupply of waiters and short-order cooks who are seamlessly expendable. Expandable like employees who sell vacuum cleaners or employees at an uncharted DVD store. There is an overabundance of artists as well. Somewhere in this hodgepodge of nascent talent, quantity trumps quality and quality no longer becomes the silver lining in terms of job prospect. I'm not talking about the industry, I'm talking about the public's regard for artists, waiters, janitors, etc. The public realizes that there is an oversupply of artists littering the streets and subway platforms; they realize that there are too many janitors and waiters. Soon these visible persons will become part of the collage--there is so many of them that the public starts to lose count and starts to see past quality. They lose their sight and ability for discerning quality. They don't notice one talent over another because there are way too many artists. This immense amount of talent creates information overload especially during subway rides: straphangers move from station to station only to be followed by a maze of subway musicians who stimulate their senses, but who has room for so much stimulation all in one day? Don't forget about your itinerary either? Who actually stops to notice talent? We're in such a rush that we block out anything that is remotely related to us. Any inconveniences we turn a deaf ear to.

A waiter is someone who serves. A waiter is the epitome of the service industry. Its roots are reminiscent of diner waitresses who are robed in uniform and dispense smiles almost as fast as they pour your coffee. Perhaps I am reminded of Dallas BBQ or iHop when I think about waiters. These are more prominent waiters because they are in prominent restaurants that receive a hoard of patrons every night. The small tiny restaurants (mom and pops) are no competition to big name restaurants with upholstery, etc. But the tiny restaurants are the ones that receive the "usuals." In fact these stores thrive on the patronage of individuals who are devoted or know the staff and manager there. These ties are what a small community is rooted in. Unfortunately these small communities are reminiscent of suburbs, not the big cities where cynicism runs loose like an unbridled horse.

Complacency is dangerous because it does not allow for ascension in the work ladder. It does not provide for vertical promotion or vertical mobility (up hopefully). It slightly provides for horizontal mobility if workers are lucky. Complacency is an evil because it epitomizes the defeat of betterdom. The betterness or worseness no longer becomes the yardstick for success. The worker becomes ensnared in his own little bubble where he denies comparison to other lines of work. With this he denies other opportunities that are laid bare to him. He begins to oversee these opportunities because he is settled and comfortable with where he is "at." This stage that he is at is not a stage but rather a communicative plateau with which he assures his regularity and safety. It reminds me of Merton's idea of the retreatist. But mostly his archetype of ritualist who goes to work day in day out with formulaic rituals to his tasks and duties. This is concomitant to post office workers who have rituals for shipping mail and packaging mail. They have these rituals in forms of questions and taking orders through a window. This becomes ritualistic because these rote behaviors become part of them and slowly they develop this ritualist archetype that is hard to rid of. They falsely induce themselves to believe that the best is no longer open to them; they have reached the end of dreams. They are safe where they are and they no longer wish for any more because they are comfortable. But they deny complacency at all costs and instead fall back onto the mantra that they do what they like, or perhaps they at least have a job while "others" (out-group) are unemployed with no purpose in life. At least working in a post office provides me with a structure to every day waking life. At least I have a job, period. No need to consider its accolades the job has won me or the status that I'm emblazoned with (there is an inflation of anonymity in the post office because of uniform and general agreement on the post office [negative]).

I'm at a point in my life (this very moment I am typing this blog) where I think that I am not going to attend graduate school because I am fed up with the education system (reified the term because I did not do my homework on college education systems--there are many and it's not the same as the ill-reputed Board of Ed!. I am finished with school. I no longer want to experience essays, homeworks, papers, drafts, extensive reading. I no longer want to cite articles or peruse scholarly articles to formulate armchair theories. When Matt from AAFE reminded me that all I'm doing is being an armchair sociologist, I writhed in my seat thinking about my future careers. I could only* imagine of a researcher, a professor, an adjunct professor, and a perpetual intern. All these four choices seemed incredibly limiting and incredibly hard to muster up credentials for. It seems like cynicism gripped me and allowed me to drop plans for graduate school (which I excitingly had several months ago). I believe that going to graduate school will only extend my impoverishment and I will be forced to do schoolwork. Even though this is on my own time I am convinced that attaining a higher degree will not pay off "in the long run."

I don't know the future. Only time will tell. But I have already given up on a higher education because I don't believe that in the future I will gain anything in return. I am only fighting half the battle. I'm withdrawing as I type. Because I don't know how successful the future will be, I have already extricated myself from the fight for my own future. I have already tricked myself into giving up. If I give up a higher education I give up any and all my chances of getting anywhere higher. But this is not set in stone. I hearken Bill Gates and all the other outliers who have dropped out, flunked, but still garnered so much money and planted so much success.