Matriculation Day

by Lyndsey Graves

I’ve been repeatedly exhorted to come to chapel in order to hear my name called. About eight-five of us, new students all, stand one by one as our names are read and we are officially recognized as members of the Boston University School of Theology.

New faculty and Distinguished Alumni are also recognized today. We are told that graduates of the school are currently serving as Ivy League professors, renowned writers, bishops, and inner city pastors. Patron saint and Ultimate Alumnus Martin Luther King, Jr. is invoked. And now my name has been listed alongside these illustrious people; I am supposed to feel inspired.

I am terrified.

Barely six months ago, I finished my nerve-wracking applications for school and financial aid. In a year, I’ll start them all over again, this time for Ph.D. programs. Then there will be a job search, a quest for tenure, for endowed professorships, conference invitations, Distinguished Alumni awards. I will never run out of things to compete for - gold stars to earn.

I like to talk about how I just want to live in community and bake people biscuits. But really, I also want my name in lights; my name on a book; accomplishments stacked on a CV like fishing trophies. I want other people to tell me that my life’s work mattered. I had forgotten, but I’m officially back on A Career Path after my Year Off, looking up at people on a stage with their credentials and achievements in a program on heavy cream-colored paper. I remember now the part of myself that will always want to be the best, that feels compelled by my very privilege to make the most of opportunity. But I’m also suffocated by self-doubt and anxiety, wondering if I can make it, wondering if it’s even worth it. Is there such a thing as “making it”? Is anything ever enough? Is there a career ladder, or just a career treadmill?

Talk of “vocation” seems to be out of fashion, but I can’t shake my belief that God is calling me to an academic career (alongside the biscuit thing), and I am meant to follow. But what does that look like? Am I going to get caught up in the trappings of Theology and Academia and forget about God and prayer? As much as I want to say the solution is just to step off the treadmill, I don’t plan to stop aiming for excellence and working hard. I have to learn to work with the system.

I’m pretty sure there’s not really a “solution” as much as there will be a constant struggle for perspective in all this. To be content to let obscurity shape me, without resigning myself to mediocrity in something that is, for me, a form of worship. To seek joy and purpose in each stage of life, rather than expecting them to come in the next. To learn to win and lose gracefully. To give what I can to my work, without seeking all my validation from it. 

It’s a lesson I’ve resigned myself to learning and re-learning forever: that there will be enough. Scarcity is an illusion; what I do not have, I do not need - money, professional fulfillment, others’ admiration. Each day has enough trouble and happiness of its own. Especially this day. I’ve got 400 pages to read. 

Lyndsey lives in Boston, MA where she is pursuing her Master's in Theological Studies at Boston University. She enjoys Community, Mad Men and Beauty and the Beast and her spirit animal is a sloth. She would like to know if this is some kind of interactive theater art piece. You can follow her on Twitter @lyndseygraves and you can find more of her writing at her blog To Be Honest.

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.
 
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Hello, My Name is Ben and I Would Like You to Think I'm Special

by Ben Howard

Those of you who know me personally know that I've been working on my Master's in Theological Studies since I moved to Nashville in 2009. This past weekend I went online to register for my fall classes and made an interesting and unexpected discovery: I might be done.

This requires a little bit of an explanation because graduation really should be a definitive in or out proposition. The pomp and circumstance of head to toe black gowns doesn't really offer much room for uncertainty. Technically, I have one class remaining, but through a series of misadventures and other gratuitous whatnot that isn't that terribly important, I may have accidentally just finished my last class of graduate school.

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper.

This was my first thought. At this supposed cathartic moment of completion, my mind intuitively went to The Hollow Men. Curious.

I've spent the last day or so reflecting on what graduate school meant to me. It became obvious quickly that above and beyond any aspirational desire to learn, or achieve, or better myself, or pursue a career, graduate school was my identity. To be more specific, it was the crutch of my identity.

It was the tag I added to any sentence where I felt my self-worth was lacking.

I work at a bookstore, ButI'mInGraduateSchool!

I live in a cheap duplex, ButI'mInGraduateSchool!

I haven't been on a vacation in two years, ButI'mInGraduateSchool!

It was my way of reminding the world, “Hey! Don't forget me! I'm still special!”

Now, don't get me wrong. I learned a lot, I love my professors, and I don't want to undo the last three years in anyway. I've matured and I credit grad school for a lot of that, but if you ask me if I spent tens of thousands of dollars out of insecurity and vulnerability, I just might answer yes.

I don't know if this is a common experience, I haven't done the requisite research. I'm not even certain that it's a bad thing. Can you put a price on self-worth?

What worries me isn't the source or cost of my personal identification and worth, it's how tied that worth is to outside expectations and valuations. I find my value in what you say about me, what you think about me, how you make me feel valuable. Guess what? All protestations to the contrary, I'm pretty sure you do too.

I wonder how this plays into the cultural and social issues of identity that divide us. I've always felt uncomfortable with that dismissive “You do what you do and I'll do what I do,” attitude in politics and religion. I don't want to do what I do, I want you to join in, or at least appreciate and value what I do. And I'm pretty sure that it would make things better if I valued what you did too.

We pretend we're a society of individuals and neglect the feelings and emotions that arise out of community. I spend all my time trying to make you remember that I'm special, and I forget that you're important too.

Maybe we're too sensitive. Maybe our priorities are in the wrong place. Maybe I'm totally wrong about all this (totally possible). I'd love to hear your thoughts and feelings, and not just because I'm curious, it makes me feel special too.

When Ben isn't talking about himself here, he's thinking about himself somewhere. Even when you're talking to him. You can follow his self-indulgent ramblings on Twitter @BenHoward87.

Between Jobs Anonymous

by Jonathan Harrison

"Hi my name is Jonathan and I'm between jobs"

Millions of tired souls cry out, "Hi Jonathan!"

"Umm...I'm not sure how it happened. I went to graduate school like everyone said to do. I graduated with a 4.0. I had connections in my chosen line of work, and well, it just wasn't enough."

The assembly responds, "Yes." "Lord have mercy." "Ummmmmmhmmmmm." "Preach!"

"And well," suddenly becoming comfortable, "I didn't understand, so I crashed for about three months. I let it get me down, but I'm back up now and I've recently created a blog about my dream career (libranding.blogspot.com, see what I did there?).  I have had four or five interviews over the past month, and I've learned to work harder at both work and in my free time. I get the feeling that one of them will come through. It's been a difficult journey, but I want to thank y'all and God for the support."

*Applause*

End scene.

Ok, I'm technically partially employed like a lot of other people out there, but ten hours a week isn't cutting it. The job market right now is brutal: really, really brutal.

Earlier in the year, I believed having a semi-decent interview would be enough to land me that position, but then employers started passing me over for positions that I really, really wanted. I have good experience. I'm a pretty awesome person. So why wasn't I getting hired?

Then I realized that it wasn't that I was a bad worker, it was that everyone out there is going the extra mile, and a semi-successful interview is not enough to get you a job. You need a great interview, good experience, do tons of little things right, be godfather of the interviewer's children and if you're lucky they'll send you a personally written rejection email.

But I love a challenge, and I've taken the challenge head on.

Being an unemployed Christian takes everything about unemployment up a notch. Spiritual people will tell you that, "You're where you are because God wants you to be there."  Meaning, of course, that God wanted me to not have a job the past six months.

Hmm. I guess I could see how that's legit.

I've learned a lot about myself and my work ethic, and I've also learned a certain sense of humility, but I wouldn't say that to anyone else who is currently unemployed. Sometimes your connections don't follow through, sometimes your networking doesn't network, sometimes you get a Masters in a field whose job outlook has fallen from above-average to abysmal in three short years (Forbes listed the MLIS as the #1 worst masters to obtain. Ahead of MFA for crying out loud).

If being unemployed has taught me anything, it's that you can have every reason in the world to be a wonderful worker, but finding a job will still elude you.   

Jesus loved everyone, but he had a special place in his heart for the poor and downtrodden. I'm not putting myself in this category because I'm supremely blessed, but unemployment hits the poor the hardest. I'm not saying Jesus would have said, "Blessed are the Unemployed", but I am saying that it sounds like something he would of said. Just think about it.

If anyone is unemployed and reading this, don't give up. You'll find something. Be smart, pray and if you have a passion, do it.

If you don't, then I hope you find it. If you need encouragement, hit me up (seriously). I won't be able to do much besides encourage you, but sometimes we really need that in our lives. Anyways.

A semi-serious post from someone who is seldom semi-serious.  Blessings.

Jonathan Harrison is a partially employed librarian. If you know of anyone who is hiring in the Nashville area, hit him up. He's been teaching himself nonprofit marketing over the past  8 or 9 months and is semi-sure that's what God wants him to do since he really, really enjoys it.  He loves data mining, has an avid understanding of web design, and really enjoys live-feed Shiba Inu puppy cams.  He can also be serious if need be. He writes over at http://driedhumor.wordpress.com/ (not serious) and http://libranding.blogspot.com/ (very, very serious).