The Horror and The Shame

I used to have a close friend from the Czech Republic whose English was damn near perfect. She understood and used American expressions properly; she was also a very strong academic writer. All that aside, the girl didn't know how to use articles. This is because in the Czech language, there is no word for "the". It was difficult for her to comprehend the English (and maybe American) rule of when to use "the" and when not to. Consequently, she would say really funny things like: "I have to go to the work now," or, "I have to attend the Biology class."

I'm sure it didn't help her that many young Americans use the word "the" to emphasize something-- either for sarcastic effect, or to show extreme enthusiasm-- "He's the man!" "That's the bomb!" etc.
My friend's use of "the" put emphasis on the wrong things; but sometimes, these phrases could turn out strangely appropriate.

So, it is with my Czech friend in mind that I write this today.

Imagine: finally reaching the summit of the mountain-- you have finished the dissertation and are ready for the graduation. You have earned the title you worked so hard for. The title itself is stained with the blood, the sweat, and the tears. You expect to go forth into the world and get the challenging, dynamic, interesting job you're qualified for. You've sent out the 50th application, overflowing with the official documents.

You get the phone interview. You get the you-suck letter. You get the phone interview. You get the you-suck email. You get the phone interview. You get the you-suck email. You get the phone interview. You get the call from Human Resources. You start to feel a little bit of the joy: the semi-security of the one-semester temp job that puts off the financial ruin for a few months. You get a you-suck letter from them, too.

You feel like the crap. Worse yet, you're sure everyone else thinks you're the crap. And not in the awesome-dude sense, either. Just in the pile of stinking dung; the bowl-winder sense. The excrement sense. Your wife might think you're the crap. And your kid might think you're the crap, too.

And then you get the shame, which feels like the helium balloon deflated in your stomach. Try as you may, you can't yank the string and get it out. The shame affects the attitude and the relationships with others; the shame discolors the perceptions of the self and the world.

Q: How do you squeeze the motivation out of the shame?
A: Take stock of the love around you, and say, "I do not want to put this in the jeopardy." Let this love be the match that lights the proverbial fire under the ass.

And know that this year, even if you don't get the job, a job is OK.