I'm no expert. I'm still just a student—halfway finished with undergrad—who is well aware that there's lots I have yet to experience and learn in this world, both professionally and personally. But all the same, I've noticed a pattern with how us writers' work is discussed. And it's my personal opinion that it needs to change, before writing turns into one of those "commodity" arts that everyone takes for granted.
From the beginning, we're told that we'll have to do something else on the side to make ends meet. We're told that we'll probably never make much, and that our dream of writing a novel before we're 30 is probably unrealistic. And then in the next breath, we're told that working in education is our best bet. That we should become professors or English teachers so we'll "have time" to write. That we have to get our MFAs, and potentially soon, PhDs to make it anywhere worthwhile. That we have to spend thousands on school to make thousands less than we want.
True: many of us will not be 20-something-year-old hits with a bestseller right out of college, or maybe not ever. Also true: the job market demands that you start out in jobs that aren't your dream, or sometimes aren't even in your field, until you gather enough experience to really get where you're going. And yes, being a professor or teacher is a great calling—one I'm even interested in pursuing—and with that comes a lot of schooling. But those professions, or ones like them, are hardly "fallback" options. At least, they shouldn't be.
Several people pursue careers like writing. Photography, music, design of all kinds—all of which are considered "necessary" arts. Everyone listens to music and looks at photos; everyone utilizes design, be it for buildings or fashion or landscapes. The Internet has made these things so much more popular than ever before. For every website you come across, there's a team of designers, writers and photographers behind it. And for most of them, that's just their day job. These are people with big projects in mind, people with large ambitions, who are working small jobs as a means to an end.
Perhaps I'm being overly optimistic, but I feel like that kind of work should be rewarded. That goes for those in even the "artsy-est" of the arts, the actors and filmmakers and the painters who all fall into this same category of under-appreciated and over-worked.
I'm not saying that people in the arts should have singularly fulfilling jobs given to them left and right—everyone has to struggle for their progress—but I am suggesting that the attitude toward it all should change. We shouldn't be warned from the beginning that our work is essentially worthless. We shouldn't be told that we'll have to work other, all-consuming jobs to actually make it in the world. That our passion simply isn't lucrative. That we won't make it.
Instead, we should be told that there are thousands of jobs out there related to our field, and that they're a great jumping-off point for that novel we want to write some day. We should be told that if we like research and education and teaching others, then considering a career in education is a great idea—but it's not the only option. We should be told that our minds are valuable, just as valuable as everyone else in the sciences and government and mathematics and all the thousands of career fields that there are in the world.
The arts can't continue to be seen as a joke of a profession. We can't be told that the only alternatives are living in squalor or working unhappy, unfulfilling jobs. The freelance jobs out there exist for a reason, and that's because everyone needs a writer or photographer/designer/filmmaker/painter at some point.
The next time that people tell you there just aren't any jobs for you out there, kindly explain to them that they haven't done their research, and that your contributions to society are just as valuable as theirs.
Then maybe someday, we'll be able to look back at how silly it was to tell our kids that they should be doctors and lawyers when all they wanted was to write poems and make plays.
