I’ve been thinking…why can’t honed hobbies count as work experience? If one indulges in photography as a hobby and they have proof that they’re rather skilled at it (such as a photo album), why can’t they put it on a resume` and apply for a photographer position at Olan Mills? I know that might sound funny, but seriously, why not? I’m still hunting in the jungle for a job…if I’m not considered “overqualified” (because of my master’s degree in psych), I’m under-qualified (not enough hands-on experience or a more specific degree, license, etc.). I’ve been applying for an array of positions in different fields: human service, non-profit organizations, media…even event planning. I haven’t applied for anything I don’t have some prior experience in; I guess I just don’t have enough-particularly in journalism-despite running the ENTIRE entertainment section for my college newspaper. I feel like I should be able to put running this blog as experience on my resume`. Afterall, it is semi-journalistic and is a testament to my writing ability. Also, I’ve learned so much about networking, marketing/promotion, web design, social media and public relations while operating this site, among other things. I know a lot of talented, creative and intelligent people whose gifts really shine through their hobbies. Am I being unreasonable here or what? Lol

I was having dinner with a friend and easily got into a music industry debate with our friendly waiter after he spotted my Dereon` bag (pop-star Beyonce’s clothing line). He said that he didn’t care for a lot of mainstream music and threw around the word “sell-out” when discussing artists he felt changed to a more commercial sound. As the conversation went on, he eventually said “but I guess anyone who has job is a sellout, so, it’s whatever I suppose.” Perplexed, my friend asked “How is that accurate? How does having a job make you a sellout?” He explained “Most people don’t work in a field they truly enjoy or are interested in. Most of us would have different jobs if we could do whatever we wanted and still pay bills.” I could understand his point and to a large extent, agreed. My friend still didn’t think it makes you a sellout if you do what it takes, including taking a job you hate, to pay bills and handle responsibilities. This same friend asked me a few weeks ago why it was so important for me to have a job I love or at least like. I figure if I’m going to spend 40 hours a week somewhere, I have to at least like what I’m doing. If I loathe my job and hate getting up every morning because I dread what I have to do, that’s not a quality life. Spending 8 hours a day watching a clock and wanting to crawl out of my skin for money is just not worth it to me. It’s going to screw with my sense of purpose. I’m going to look up and go “Is this life? Is this what it’s all about?” Needless to say, my own desire to have a job that not only offers monetary support, but personal fulfillment as well, is what partially led to me agreeing with my waiter.

“You’re a slave to money than you die.”-Bittersweet Symphony , The Verve Pipe

The more I thought about what the waiter said, the more I thought about all the different ways we “sellout” while in the workforce. The butt-kissing, the toleration of condescending remarks, the hiding of tattoos & piercings, the concealing of religious, political or cultural beliefs & sexual orientation, the revisions to Facebook profiles-and often, contrary to what your mama told you, this won’t stop the “higher” or more successful you get at your job unless you’re the CEO. What are we doing all this for? Money? Yes, you have to have a place to live, food to eat, clothes to wear and transportation. If you have children, there’s an even greater need for these things, among other items, but where do we draw the line between meeting needs and selling our souls? What do you think?