I almost had my youngest yesterday when I told her anyone among her fellow 13-year-old friends who were born on Leap Day would only be four as of today, but I didn't have the heart to mislead her completely.
Truly, his is an odd day. One that only comes around every four years; in America, just like Presidential elections.
But I am not happy tonight. The challenges seem so daunting and the potential solutions so elusive.
What good can it possibly be to be a writer in this era? Who knows or cares? The financial issues we face are so insurmountable, most of the time, you can forgive most writers for asking, "Why bother?"
Then, there is being a parent. How in the hell are any of us, in this country, supposed to be able to afford to send our kids to college?
They, the kids, sense this problem. They are not unaware of the economics that are crushing their parents. They start asking why it is even necessary or useful to continue to get an education?
Looking at us, crushed by debt, barely able to pay our bills, and wonder what a college degree did for us.
And of course we have no answer. Because we live in a time and a place that does not value artists. We live in the age of engineers above all others.
But all I can raise are artists. And artists don't get paid.
-30-
2 comments:
Do you remember the day when penmanship was highly valued? I do- my knuckles were rapped with a cane on many occasion as my elementary teacher wanted me to write beautifully--- unfortunately all the rapping in the world did not yield much on that front.
I think I spend more time deleting my comments than writing them- ha ha!! ;)
Yeah its bitterly ironic how people pressure other into getting a college degree when really it doesn't guarantee u a job. It may give u an advantage but not that much. I like to believe that if being an artist was truly easy it would not be worth it. After all, my favorite quote is "if everyone could be a rich and famous author there would be no point in working so hard. where is the fun in that?"
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