GrammarPhile Blog

A Case for Useless Degrees

“You have a degree in English. You’re not going to be able to find another job,” the CEO said.

It was 2007. I’d graduated from college and hadn’t immediately become a best-selling author with minimal effort. After taking a few minutes to recover from that shock, I applied for a job at a financial services company in their auto insurance line.

I worked there for two months before my then-husband received a sudden, permanent change of duty station, out of state. (Military spouses have notoriously abysmal unemployment rates, and this is a perfect example of why.)

After several months of searching, I landed a temp job at a beauty manufacturer as an executive assistant. The pay was as depressing as the atmosphere. You know the vocational honeymoon season followed by a slow-growing awareness that you’re being boiled alive? The honeymoon was approximately 30 seconds long. I felt a strong impulse to plow into a ditch every morning as I drove to work.

Why “I’m Not a Writer” Probably Isn’t True

“I’m not a writer.” If I had a dollar for every time someone said this to me, I could buy three or four deluxe burritos.

Sure, some people have a knack for writing. Other people write like a screeching violin, from whom we want to hide all the pens, pencils, and paper. But there are many more people who occupy a solid middle ground. They’re also using “I can’t write” as something of a shield.

Why People Say “I Can’t Write”

The people who are saying “I can’t write” often mean other things that are harder to admit:

• If they set the bar low, there’s less of a chance you’ll criticize their writing. Writing is a little like prancing around naked on a stage while the audience grades you, so I understand this strategy.
• Their “inability” to write well is posed as a permanent state; there’s no changing it. So there’s no need to try to overcome it. Problem solved and buried.
• They actually don’t believe they can’t write worth a darn. Writing intimidates and overwhelms the heck out of them. They’d like it if you’d change the subject. (I do, just not in this blog post.)

There you are, staring at a blank screen with a blinking cursor that’s mocking you. You have absolutely no ideas and a deadline that’s looming. You feel as if you’ve forgotten the entire alphabet overnight and couldn’t even write your name if the fate of the world depended on it. Panic starts to set in, and you finally realize that you’re experiencing writer’s block.