On December 13, 2008 I sat with several hundred other twenty something’s, in the Leon County Civic Center, surrounded by friends, loved ones and professors. We sat in our black cap and gowns, listening to words of advice, spat at us from our elders, who spent the morning making promises of a new life, new challenges, growth and prosperity.What their speeches failed to touch on was the Wall Street melt down, the collapse of our financial infrastructure, the fact that there would be no jobs for us, the fact we would still be hustling for years to come, more than any other graduating class in recent American history. They failed to mention that our Student Loan providers could care less whether or not we could pay our monthly dues. Or maybe they did, I just didn’t hear it because I was listening to my IPOD throughout the entire commencement ceremony.
While I sat on my black metal folding chair, I imagined that I would not be serving tables six months from then. But flash forward 11 months, I’m still asking “How would you like you special sauce sir- mild, medium or hot?” Meanwhile the man, who is barking at his Bluetooth, flashes his hand at me and motions for me to go away. Awesome! THIS is what I went to college for! THIS is why I owe 40,000 in loans for!
While I’m at work I like to think that it’s all a dream. That life really isn’t like this. But, it is. And not just for me. Unlike my serving days in Tallahassee, Fl- where I worked with college kids in the same position as me, I work with mostly people in their mid twenties or early thirties. Most of them have college degrees, most of them barely make enough to pay their bills. At my one store alone, there are two unemployed architects, a couple graphic designers, and one kid with a degree in Biology, teachers, musicians, writers, actors, and dancers. All, still serving; some because they want to, others because they have to. But most frustrated with the outcome of the 2008 melt down and how 2009 brought the trickling effect to the tables we serve.
Three hours later and $33 richer, I walk out my workplace and walk three blocks west, where I find a cliff that overlooks the Pacific Coast Highway. This view saves me every time. This is what they should have told us about at my graduation ceremony; about finding something that will save you and help you deal with the unexpected obstacles in life. I look at the Pacific Ocean, the Santa Monica Pier and Malibu. The view is breathtaking and frankly unbelievable. But I find myself missing and longing for the simpler days, and college life. I miss the stickiness of Tallahassee. I miss the red necks and the ignorance of the natives. And I miss the safety and affordability I lived in for those short, sweet six years.
But the biggest challenge of this recession is to not let my life recess. We must move forward. As hard as it is, I moved out here to build a life for myself, and to build a career from the ground up; a metaphorical statement that has now become quite literal. To move back home would be giving into the greedy bastards that destroyed our economy. To move back home would allow those who laughed at my career choice to keep on laughing.
Well, with the salty taste of tears on my tongue let me say this once and I’ll say it loud and proud.
I’m sticking this out and I’m still California dreaming.
Sincerely,
Nita Alexander
One graduate of the Class of 2008
Florida State University
