COLUMN: Figuring out the future

From Lisa Levenson's, "First Person," Fall '96 From Lisa Levenson's, "First Person," Fall '96For liberal arts majors, jobs aren't abundantFrom Lisa Levenson's, "First Person," Fall '96For liberal arts majors, jobs aren't abundantor easy to find, but there's still a place for us. From Lisa Levenson's, "First Person," Fall '96For liberal arts majors, jobs aren't abundantor easy to find, but there's still a place for us. Last week, I was sitting in my History seminar, discussing a book about political theory and moral philosophy, when a Psychology class came back to haunt me. As we talked about free will (or the absence of it) in war time, our teaching assistant referred to a classic series of obedience experiments performed at Yale University by psychologist Stanley Milgram. As a senior facing "the future" and hoping fervently for employment, I went to the OCRS preview to get an idea of what I could expect from Career Planning and Placement Service this year. The answer? Very little. When I get my expensive piece of sheepskin in May, certifying that I can read, write and think, odds are that I will have unearthed and snared any accompanying job offers on my own. It's not CPPS's fault that there are so few job listings for liberal arts majors like me, who eschewed Intro to Accounting and Corporate Finance when we got here three years ago. It's not that government agencies, publishing companies and non-profit institutions like museums and foundations don't want to hire English, Art History and Philosophy majors from Penn. The career counselors say the lack of listings for us non-Whartonites and non-Economics majors is simply a function of supply and demand. Only companies like Bankers Trust, Coopers & Lybrand, Goldman Sachs and McKinsey and Company know now that they will be hiring however many hundreds or thousands of analysts and consultants come June. Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better. Nor does it give my mom, who's paid dearly to send me here, much faith in my recent decision to skip law school applications this time around. As a result, I've been thinking a great deal about what exactly I have learned during three years here, guided by good old Ben Franklin's view on knowledge both "useful" and "ornamental." The list keeps growing, and it's begun to surprise me. Requirements, for example, forced me to study the symphony, the sonata and the Gregorian chant, meaning that I sometimes stop reading mid-sentence to hum along with the classical music I keep on to block out the sirens and cars cruising past my house. Requirements also led me to continue to "proficiency" level in French, no matter how thin my knowledge of the language remains. At least I can say I knew it once. However, requirements within my major -- which I picked over Political Science and American Civilization precisely because it had fewer requirements -- have proven to be proverbial thorns in my side. The few mandatory courses that I had to take on obscure periods and areas of the world taught me little, bored me a lot -- and took a bite out of my GPA. One of my minors includes courses with practicing journalists, giving me valuable contacts in and a present-day perspective on my chosen career field, not to mention feedback on and criticism of my work. My other minor gave me a reason to take statistics and calculus, ensuring that I will be able to decipher the student loan repayment statements that will start arriving next November. I've elected to do independent research in my major, and if all goes well, I'll be able to say (in April) that I wrote a book during my undergraduate years. If all goes really well, excerpts from my thesis will be published in the mainstream media and will provide fodder for job interview conversation. But I'll be happy just to have the darn thing completed before my formal and Spring Fling. As a liberal arts major, I've also learned a lot about computing, the Internet and the World Wide Web, thanks to the practical requirements of turning out research papers on every conceivable topic, not just the history of corporations or the volatility of stock prices. This knowledge helped me get high-powered summer internships and legitimately fatten my resumZ, and it will be crucial as I compete with other qualified candidates for the few non-investment banking jobs available these days. I'm not sure how precisely to explain all of the above, and more, on a one-page resume. It's not that I can't condense myself into neat little bulleted paragraphs of working-world doublespeak like "provided critical support to upper-level managers," which all of us know means "made coffee, sorted mail, answered phones and filed correspondence." It's more that I don't want to shrink, compartmentalize and categorize myself to death. I'm proud of my varied academic and extracurricular experiences, as I am sure most College students are. Our somewhat-random class rosters make us adaptable, flexible and comfortable in almost any environment, from the stock market (if we can get our feet in the door) to the elementary school (if we can support ourselves on relatively small salaries). The lack of curves in most non-introductory classes in the College also leads to increased collegiality and cooperation among students. When helping your classmates means that more students will succeed, not that your own grade will suffer, it's no surprise that more of us show our altruistic colors. In two or three or five years, I'll probably be back in school, whether for a master's or doctorate in one of the liberal arts, a law degree, an MBA -- or even a medical degree. But between now and then, I intend to apply what I've learned at Penn to work in the "real world." I just have to figure out how.