I’ve always been haunted by the question, “what do you?” It is just nonsensical to me because what we do in our lives is…everything? But that’s not the intention with the asking. What is meant:
- what JOB do you have?
- What is it that earns you MONEY?
- What is your STATION in life?
All valid questions and we could spend a lot of time discussing the social/cultural constructs of defining a person’s value based on their net worth or job title. Many people don’t question it and simply regurgitate the words on their business cards.
It’s interesting when people don’t, though. Their truth lies in the pause — that moment when someone has to think about the answer. That’s the case with me, so I always notice it when other people do it too.
What’s that pause about? Do I not know my job title? Do I not know what I do everyday at my “job”? Of course I do. But then someone asks me what I “do,” my first instinct is to say, “I’m a writer.”
That answer, though, opens a wasp’s nest of shame, guilt, and equivocation. I write, of course, but I write things that are, socially, not equal to having a “established, respected career” as an author. I write romance novels, I write fanfiction, I write blog posts. I can’t claim “books in my academic field,” for instance.
I admit, that is clouded by my own embarrassment. It’s weird to feel bad about not writing things that I don’t actually want to write, but I do. Shouldn’t my education and talent be used for something more substantial? A valid question, but also pointless, because the answer is, “well, I don’t, because I don’t want to.”
When asked what it is I do, I stop, and think about the answer, and how much I’m willing to explain “I’m a writer, but…” because the first words out of anyone’s mouth is “what do you write? Anything I have read?” and I just don’t want to say, “no, not really,” or make long explanations. I just want to say, “I’m a writer.”
So…I pause. Then I say, “I’m the assistive technology coordinator for the SDRC at FSU.”
