Last week I completed my second semi-successful trip to Marquette’s Career Services Fair. I say semi-successful because, though I left without a job, I encountered a Mike and Ike dispenser at an engineering company’s table.
Sometimes it’s the little things.
My latest rendezvous with the working world highlights the ever-growing likelihood that I will graduate unemployed. This possibility led me to question whether it is time to take matters into my own hands.
I began to wonder if my real problem is that I have been limiting myself too much.
Maybe I need to take the advice on my eighth grade teacher’s classroom poster and shoot for the moon. As the saying goes, even if I miss, I’ll land among the stars.
I decided that shooting for the moon could only mean one thing: running for president.
It all made perfect sense. Like the nascent Tea Party, I would create a new organization called the Dance Party — because I will stomp out America’s problems and waltz our great nation back to glory — turning the political world on its head.
A seasoned veteran like Dan Quayle could serve as my running mate. We would coast to victory with the help of clever campaign commercials based around his having been offered a spot on “Dancing With The Stars.”
Before Quayle got a chance to accept my offer, I remembered the Constitution includes a technicality stating I cannot occupy the Oval Office until I am 35. For the next 13 years, it seems I will have to settle for the stars.
Age limits also put Congress beyond my grasp, but even if I could run, I am not sure I would want to. The current possibility of a government shutdown would leave Congress even more redundant than it already chooses to be. On some level, the point of my running for office is about being useful, so I redirected my attention toward state politics.
As luck would have it, a lot is going on in Wisconsin. Massive demonstrations surrounding Gov. Scott Walker’s proposal to strip unions of most of their collective bargaining rights have led to nasty name-calling against politicians on both sides of the aisle. Wherever politicians are criticized, their seats are waiting to be taken.
Though Walker was inaugurated just over a month ago, someone has to run against him in four years. Because I am over 21 years old, I am eligible. I will also be a college graduate at the time of the 2014 election, so some might even say I will have a one-up on him. On the other hand, watching protesters compare him to Hosni Mubarak and Adolf Hitler has caused me to question how much fun being governor really would be.
The state Senate, too, is not without its dilemmas. While Democrats have left Wisconsin in a huff over the budget and cannot feasibly return without conceding defeat, Republicans cannot address financial matters until the Democrats come home. More gridlock? No thanks.
All of this buffoonery was getting me tuckered out. Each position I researched seemed to limit a person’s ability to think and operate freely. I would rather be able to speak my mind about issues I care about and not have to face any consequences … like losing my job.
I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for our elected leaders. As obnoxious as they often are, their work frequently puts them in the thankless position of choosing between two unappealing options.
These kinds of options mean we will never be short of reasons to criticize them. This is a good thing; after all, democracy depends on the extent to which we express our opinions.
Nonetheless, there is a respectful way to do this that does not involve likening our governor to the instigator of the Holocaust. So yes, we should tell our leaders when we disagree with them. But each time we do, we should remember those leaders have a job that, despite the lagging market, we are in many ways fortunate not to have.