What Richard Linklater Hath Wrought
There's a point in Meg Jay, Ph.D's The Defining Decade: Why Your Twenties Matter–And How To Make The Most Of Them Now where the clinical psychologist author is counseling a patient (or a composite type of "patient") about the fact that she needs to consider her biological clock:
"Can you get married and have a baby now?"
"No! Dr. Jay! I'm not even in a relationship!"
And then it hits you: this author shares the same name as a certain Hall of Fame player from the 70s and 80s who combined the ability to glide through the air with an almost artistic dunking style. Dude, if I had the last name "Jay" and some sort of doctorate degree — even a lousy juris doctor or doctor of education — I'd be using that title all the goddamn day. I can't believe it wasn't until the epilogue that I realized the import of her last name and title.
As you might take away from the subtitle, Decade is self-help for twentysomethings — for their work life, relationship sphere and a third category, which mostly deals with hectoring women not to wait too long to have children.
I'm being glib about that last part, but it's something you return to over the course of the book. At least as it relates to work — and I think you can make a case that meaningful work lays the groundwork for the self-discovery that happens later — I don't think the liberal arts curriculum of high schools serves children well. Or, more accurately, children won't learn anything about their future career/employment choices in this kind of curriculum.
It's not that the liberal arts curriculum is a bad system but rather that it doesn't do much to focus a child. Which is obviously the point of a comprehensive education. I think there's something important about every child receiving the same educational background — it also fits into the democratic ideal of equality of opportunity — but the other component of preparing a kid to participate in the economy is missing. And not for nothing, but "we" don't track kids. "We" don't prescribe careers for kids at age 14 or 15. "We" don't want us doing that.
So given that normal high schools don't prepare kids well, it should fall on the parents or wider community, whatever that may be, to pick up the slack. You passed pre-calc? Great. What are you thinking about for after you graduate? I don't know if it's not cool or backward looking or counterproductive, but we're real good at not telling children what they can or can't do. There were a lot of double negatives in there, which is part of the problem: If the schools aren't equipped to advise children responsibly for a career or future then parents and whoever else around need to focus their attention.
Which is a long, multi-paragraphical way of saying that it's sad and weird that Dr. Jay's Decade is the closest thing younguns have to good advice.
Most of the advice is relatively intuitive: bust ass and challenge yourself wherever possible; prioritize not being a weirdo who can't meet people or take advantage of connections; key in on your passions and figure out ways to make that lucrative (or at least paying); don't shack up with idiots; etc., etc.
The crazy thing is that we've warped things to the point where it's not intuitive. And parents and people, for whatever reason, don't lay down the hammer like I assume people once did. In theory, it's a good thing that kids have to puzzle out the world for themselves, but in a world where adolescence bleeds into one's twenties and beyond, it's asking a lot to expect children to figure it out for themselves. That doesn't let people off the hook, but just contextualizes the difficulties somewhat.
Dr. Jay's book is filled with composite characters — as a health care professional she's obligated to protect identities — so it's hard to differentiate straw men (and women) from real-life people, but a lot of the kids in the book just make you want to throttle them — and I say this as someone who somehow made it through his twenties not completely moronically, mostly accidentally, and tremendously fortunately. That said, there's a point you get to when you realize that she's talking about upper middle class children. She can't exactly say that, and there's no reason not to just understand that and move on, but at some point, it's kind of glaring and uncomfortable. No question, it's important to take advantage of any connections, no matter how weak, to get a foot in the door, but when you take half a second to ponder the inequities at work and the deficiency of a supposedly meritocratic system, it's hard to feel bad for these people.
So many of the composites circle back to the same outward symptoms of underemployment and goofing. It reminds me of Richard Linklater's Slacker, except that I'm surprised that kids can fumble along for years as bartenders or whatnot, especially with student debt and this or that. Austin in the late 1980s or early 1990s was probably a really cheap place to live. In this era of unpaid internships and six-figure college debt, it seems stressful and unwise.
That's not to say this all isn't really good, important advice — not at all — but rather we've lost something if parents and the people closest to children aren't more explicit about what works and what doesn't. Modeling works, but it might take a while, and kids don't have that long when they go from dozing through high school civics to making meaningful choices about their futures.
The final parts of The Defining alight on the difficulties of family planning when you're still dating into your late 30s. At one point Dr. Jay writes, "There is something profoundly sad about seeing an eighty-year-old grandmother come to the hospital to meet a grandchild. It is crushing to realize there won't be many sunny days at the lake with Grandpa or holidays spent in Grandma's loving presence." Jeez, laying on a bit thick? Of course, she's right — but no one talks like this . . . or maybe they should? Which is worse, profound sadness or a twentysomething's hurt butt? Elsewhere, she recruits a composite with a near-near-death experience to note how he was wasting his goddamn life before he had children. But does George Clooney agree?
Defining is intended for twentysomethings, but it's pretty entertaining for older folks. It's good to hear how you turned out, and why, but it's also good background to scare the fuck out of your kids, friends' kids, and various passersby. And then of course to see how you either fit the descriptions exactly or were lucky as all get out not to get bogged down.
Posted: June 25th, 2014 | Author: Scott | Filed under: Books Are The SUVs Of Writing | Tags: Book Club, Twentysomethings