I've Got a Hammer & a Heart of Glass

I found this in my current edition of "The Week," and it is a pretty perfect summary of the anxiety I have over the future of this nation's economy. I went back to school because I wanted to gain some insight into my strengths and how I can better apply them to my world. Even in college I had decided that I wanted to pursue a master's, and I selected a very rigorous program because I have always been an ambitious person; just going through the motions wouldn't have satisfied my intentions. I also decided that a college degree alone will not provide me with enough resources and credibility to achieve all of the elements the career of my dreams includes.

In this excerpt, Francis Wilkinson articulates the deep-seated fear that has been tormenting my hope in our future, as I have struggled to justify the jobs I think I would enjoy with the jobs I think people will pay me to do.

When I was a recent college graduate, I was fired from my job at an upscale Manhattan wine shop. (My boss' diagnosis was correct: I did have an attitude.) With rent to pay and no job prospects, I entered a Midtown messenger firm and started delivering packages for minimum wage. At week's end, I had scarcely more money than I had begun with. As a student, I had been enterprisingly frugal, cooking on an upturned electric iron when my propane stove was spent. That sort of poverty had its youthful charm. But working full-time for nearly nothing was something else - a depressing, even terrifying, experience.

According to a new study, three quarters of the jobs created in the first half of 2010 were low-paying - $9 to $15 per hour. I suspect that many Americans who hold such jobs - especially those with children - could teach me a thing or two about what true depression and terror feel like. The plight of the poor is, of course, a perennial topic, but its contours change according to the prevailing idealogical light. Looking back, we see the earnest, striving immigrants of the early 20th century, those teeming urban masses yearning for fresh air and a chance to make good. In the 1960's, we had the grim, explosive underclass, which was replaced in the 1980's by a sketch of Cadillac welfare mothers. Now, in the wake of the Great Recession, a new poor is taking shape - the desperate, downwardly mobile. Betrayed by markets, forsaken by government, they seem to look different this time. But their harrowing vantage point is the same as ever.