…my first year has exposed the significant wealth disparities between me and other students. While they are comforted by their parents’ financial cushions, I have to think about the risks I take career-wise. I had hoped to pursue journalism. But in the work (sic) is often inconsistent and poorly paid. My privileged counterparts will be able to explore opportunities in the form of unpaid internships; I need a career path that provides monetary stability.
Well, journalism ain’t it, unless you plan to whine incessantly about how the world done you wrong ‘cos you’re black/working class/a woman.
That pays. A bit.
I worry, too, that I do not display the “polish” that many recruiters seek. At one of the first talks I attended at university, the speaker made several references to 17th-century French politicians and compared them with contemporary British MPs. Each of the examples were greeted with bursts of laughter. Did I keep missing the punchline? How was I expected to know the biography of Louis XIV?
Ummm, I dunno. Maybe … buy a book? Read it? Is that an unfamiliar concept?
As I navigate Cambridge, I often feel alienated as student colleagues confidently charm their way through conversations – referencing their favourite poetry by the likes of Keats, Browning and Hardy. I could not name a single title.
So you whine about not fitting in, yet have made no attempt whatsoever to do so? And this is all someone else’s fault?