Día Nueve

How Important You Think Education Is. 

(Oh my, How Dull…)

Ok. My views on this subject at this particular moment in time can be summed up very briefly as;

It’s so, so much better to be educated than not… but.

But to get to where you want to go, you have to be the right kind of person. Own the right kind of mindset. Maintain the right outlook on life. Be strong, be confident, be self-assured. Be assertive, be prepared to put yourself first and do whatever it takes to get what you want (Within reason. No, fuck it; without reason). Be charismatic; win people over, make them fall for you.

I wish school had taught me that stuff.

I mean, I sailed through everything school threw at me. The same with University, kind of (although I very narrowly missed out on excelling there because my soul fell apart a couple of feet from the start, and then a couple of inches from the finish line). But one way and another, I never really had to try all that hard to do well. Nothing was very difficult. Time-consuming sometimes, yes, (frustrating for me,  impatient and restless as I have often been) but not too difficult in any other sense. I enjoyed exams because I knew how to do them right. I hated essays, because I couldn’t bear to do them less than perfectly but always put off working on them until it was  too late to be able to ensure that they always were perfect; knowing how to do them just right was always a process that developed along the way, with time running out just a tiny bit short of that process’ completion. Infuriating.

And now I am struggling to get a ‘proper’ job, a graduate position to reflect my level of educational achievement, because I have zero people skills. People very simply scare the bejesus out of me, and I’m not very good at hiding my fear. They’ve decided I’m not what they’re looking for before I’ve opened my mouth to say hello to them. (Although to be fair I haven’t really tried all that hard yet, because I can’t seem to muster the enthusiasm to even complete the majority of the application processes for the kind of jobs I’m meant to be pining after. I haven’t really seen any jobs advertised that I could really get excited about the thought of doing for any significant portion of my life…)

But yeah. They won’t pick me, because I’m not confident, driven, ambitious, endlessly enthusiastic, tenacious, a natural born leader. It always takes a bit of time and a lot of acclimatisation to a setting and a bunch of people and a situation, for me to even begin to feel the first sparks of those kinds of characteristics igniting.

And nobody wants a girl with the potential to become a superstar; they want their superstar ready-made, cut-and-dried. Fully Fledged.  And there are plenty of people out there, people who think they are the dog’s bollocks (and maybe they are), who will convince the world that they are that ready-made wonderman/woman, and get to where they want to be. To where I will not get to be but would maybe want to be if only I had a damn clue what the Hell I wanted in life.

So (I’m not too sure, but) what (I think) I’m trying to say here is that yes you should pay attention in maths and English, kiddies. But the stuff you learn there will only get you so far; you have to be Superman with four times the ego and ninety-nine times the balls before you’ll get chance to become a real high flyer in today’s world.

And if you’ve been paying attention in maths and English, chances are you’ll have been fed the standard meritocratic bullshit about how your prowess in such activities means you should end up as one of those high flyers. So you will never be able to really and truly settle for anything lower, no matter how terrifying and harrowing the climb to bigger and better things might have to be for you.

They should spend more time teaching some of us not to be ourselves; because the ugly truth is that there are certain types of people who do not need to exist in today’s world. And if they should come to understand this fact then they’d better be prepared to be suffocatingly dissatisfied/lost/confused/self-loathing, or make a hasty metamorphosis of themselves.  Kill, or be Killed.

Instead, at my school we sang silly songs like this;

“Of all the things to be, I’m happy that I’m me,

Thankyou God I’m happy that I’m me.

I’m happy that I’m me,

I’m happy that I’m me,

There’s no-one else in all the world that I would rather be”

(While Wicked Witches slammed us for having feelings, and tried to defame our characters to our parents behind our backs).

Go on, throw some more inspirational quotes my way…



About Stephy

50% happy, 50% wildly uncertain. 94.7% bewildered, 78% raving mad, 4.5% awesome, 63% tea/coffee and cake. Wearing odd clothes, favouring odd points of view and Drifting Aimlessly since 1991. View all posts by Stephy

3 responses to “Día Nueve

  • 4:29 am. And, Inspired… – Lead.Learn.Live.

    […] Stephy @ Stepyness (True Grit Turning Words…) […]

  • David Kanigan

    Stephy, I have nominated you for the Inspiring Blog Award @ http://davidkanigan.com/2012/10/03/429-am-and-inspired/. You can choose to accept or not…just accept my thanks for your terrific blog and your inspiring posts. Thank you. Dave

  • theferkel

    It’s true, if you’re looking for a job to match your skills you’ll find it hard to find one… I had to start from the lowest slumps and then climb my way up by working twice as hard as any other team member and even then it did not even matter. My first paycheck was for $200. Within three months, it climbed to $350. Thank God I was still living with my folks and they paid all the bills and food costs.
    After a year at the job, I was earning $500. When they called me in to re-negotiate my salary, I was overwhelmed. I thought that they finally saw that I was busting my ass and driving the department up, and no, they did not notice and they offered me a $50 payrise.
    I quit shortly after and applied for a position abroad that paid for starters $1500. I used the first job to increase experience and then went full on to better places.
    Don’t give up and bite the bullet.

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