Though I am officially on spring break, it’s hardly a break, at least this year, my junior year of high school. It feels like I had just about a minute to celebrate the end of term finals, and then I had to pump back up again for the next two challenges staring me in the face. I’m taking the SAT for the first time next week, and I’m feeling the pressure to do well and to get into the magic zone that will open the doors to the schools that I want. As if that were not enough, I’m also feeling the pressure to find a job for the summer, which is just around the corner, though it may be hard to believe with all these huge piles of snow all around. My parents remind me that I will be expected to contribute financially for school. Any money I make will barely make a dent, but I think it is more the thought that counts.
I have always done volunteer work –– and now that I’m 16, it seems like the logical next step to work for money, and actually, a job like scooping ice cream or waitressing sounds like it would be a lot of fun. But that’s when I get discouraged even thinking about it, because there’s one little problem: the rotten economy. How am I supposed to get a job when the unemployment rate has been at historic highs for months, leaving a multitude of people, no doubt more qualified than I am, competing for jobs that don’t necessarily even exist? Ok, I lied. This is not a little problem, this is a huge problem. Not just for me and my little job hunt on a smaller scale, but for the most part, every single person living in the United States during this recession is out of work or knows someone who is.
I have heard my parents say they’re happy that my older sister is still in college and not out on the streets looking for a job right now. When I hear that, I also feel lucky that my biggest responsibilities are getting to class on time and doing my homework, and not trying to work and support a family. The recession that we as a country have been suffering for just about the last two years has had a ripple effect, leaving financial and emotional destruction in its wake that hasn’t ceased.
Even though my family has not been affected firsthand by the economic disaster, we have people close to us who have been gravely affected. A family friend of ours has been out of a job for the last year and a half. He has three degrees, including one from Harvard Medical School! All that hard work to get into a good school and then he’s laid off! Logic seems to go out the window when smart, qualified people lose their jobs and suffer despair and fear for the future. I also have a friend whose father lost his job last summer. What do I even say to her when I know her parents are having terrible financial trouble? It’s awkward. If we want to go out to the movies or dinner, do I offer to help pay, or would that be insulting? Or do we just do something that isn’t too expensive?
What’s so frustrating about the dismal unemployment rates is that I’m sure things can be done to reduce the number of jobless people in this country. My mother rants about this, saying how can so many people be out of work when there is so much work that needs to be done? I hear about people having to wait months to get appointments with certain medical specialists. I know that baby-boomers like my parents are getting older and suffering health problems, but there is a shortage of certain kinds of doctors and healthcare workers.
California, where I go to school, is a mess in so many ways because of budget problems, but one of the biggest problems is huge classes in public schools. I know that some schools have 35 kids or more per classroom. This is not ok; our country needs these jobs to be done, and we have enough workers available to do them, but no one is matching them up. If the economy does not improve, it will be future generations, including mine, who will have to deal with the problems and the debt. Why should I have to worry about paying for something I didn’t buy?
Even today, the state of the economy is affecting teens like me. I know I am not the only one my age working hard at school. Whenever I am feeling overwhelmed and burned out from academics, I remind myself why I am working so hard, a reason probably drilled into every student’s head: if you work hard, you will get into a good college, and from there you will get a great job, not only a job that pays the bills, but one that we can be truly passionate about.
But when I see people around me with college degrees and advanced degrees losing their jobs, I lose sight of the point of it all. It’s almost existential — should I really be working so hard for a goal that I might not achieve and a job that doesn’t exist any more? It scares me. Obviously, an education is priceless and the point of learning is not only to get into a good school, but to enjoy it and become a better person. But expecting to get a good job out of it shouldn’t be too much to ask either.
In my AP U.S. history class, we recently learned about the Great Depression and Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal. After his first 100 days in office, FDR had multiple relief programs in progress to combat the Depression with full force. His mindset soothed America, and his ideas and the changes he instituted throughout his presidency, but especially during the Great Depression, set precedents for the United States.
I remember standing in the cold, blustery January wind in Washington, D.C., for the inauguration of President Barack Obama last year. I also remember barely caring about the weather, mesmerized by the respect and awe-inspiring faith Obama instilled in so many people, and the excitement about change. But now I am wary and frightened. Many comparisons have been made between FDR and Obama, but Obama has been in the office for many more than 100 days, and I know that I’m not the only one starting to lose faith.
Where is our New Deal? When will we find jobs for people who desperately need then? Where is the hope and change President Obama promised? Or will it be up to me and my generation to produce it and pay off the national debt too? That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
