I have a master’s degree, I’m jobless, and I find job-seeking really gut-wrenching

I resigned from my first full-time job in 2015. Though my wage was quite minimum, my employer was very hospitable.

Compared to my peers back then who were struggling to find a job, I had had a head start. I was pursuing an undergraduate degree and writing my thesis at the time, and I got a job as an IELTS trainer. I was paid IDR 4,000,000/ month (approx. $285) while most of my friends were still seeking for a job, doing freelance, or doing part-time with ridiculously inadequate pay. The (relatively) small company was managed by a very kind, easygoing, nurturing boss who actually listened to his employees. There was no office politics whatsoever as the education center was quite small. A branch office was run by 4 – 5 people, and there was no manager. We did phone call interviews and education fairs to attract people. It was nice. I worked there for a year.

I probably left too soon.

The reason I left was simple. I wanted to pursue a master’s degree. I thought having such degree would give me advantage in career later on. I had never been so wrong in my entire life.

Having a B.A. in English studies from a respectable university in Indonesia, I wanted to take further study in Philosophy. I was a rookie philosophy enthusiast at the time – I even wrote my undergraduate thesis with Nietzsche, after getting dissed and lack of support from my mentors (I mean I don’t blame them. I just understood the gist of English studies and how the trend has lately been moving to cultural studies and popular culture, rendering highbrow culture – philosophy included – a bit irrelevant.) However, my parents wanted me to take International Relations. We settled at Cultural Studies.

Academically speaking, it was the best decision in my life. Learning and doing cultural studies actually changed my life as a person. Before cultural studies, I was a phony snobbish misanthropist who would criticize a lot of things I didn’t even understand. It would make more sense if I had been born into a rich family – but I wasn’t. Anyway, cultural studies taught me something so simple with massive discursive slaps to my phony face: that people are not stupid, and you don’t have to be upset with the world all the time. It brought me to an attitude of respecting other people’s beliefs and decisions, even if they contradict mine. When you really try to understand what people are doing, you’ll be surprised of how little you actually know (yes, I am that stupid that it took a master’s degree for me to realize something as simple as this.)

I excelled in classes and got a GPA of 3.98 when I graduated. Despite this, I kinda feel like something was offbeat. Whenever I talk to my friends, I realize that they know much much more about so many things than I do. Someone of our batch was a master of leftist (or left-ish) books – Eagleton, Marx, Bourdieu, you name it. Another was an activist who has experienced a lot of things on the grassroot level. Some of us were incredible authors with a substantial number of followings (oh, their books have actually been published). Another was a reporter with years of experience. At that time, my girlfriend (who took Cultural Studies together with me) was working for a now nationally famous feminist webzine. One has been running a podcast talking about dating culture in Indonesia. One is fluent in Japanese and has conducted field studies to women movement in grassroot level. One is a film lecturer. One is a famous musician/composer/arranger in campus. The list goes on and on. Meanwhile, I was just probably better at reading and writing things – for most of our readings are written in English. So whenever my friends complimented (or teased?) me for being the A+ student, I couldn’t help but feel… weird.

But it was probably one of the best moments of my life. There were so many things I learned. I lived on a tight budget, staying in a boarding house provided by a family who resides in a neighborhood where good food is ridiculously affordable ($1-$1.5 for a plate of meal, less for snacks or drinks). I aced my classes. I shared the same discourse with my girlfriend. We would spend time doing assignments before switching to watching series like Westworld or GoT, or playing PUBG in a poorly air-conditioned food stall. While receiving no support from my parents, I could support myself with teaching and translating. It was a simple life, and life was good…

…which is why I was scared shitless when my friends were going to graduate, and I was going to graduate. I had some troubles completing my thesis on time, so I had to take another semester to complete the whole research. Most of my friends – my gf included – had graduated before I did. While a few peers were still on the same page (doing another semester due to some thesis-related issues), I barely had any human contact with fellow students. It got lonely.

Thanks to amazing lecturers, 6 months later, I graduated as a student with the highest GPA from the Faculty of Humanities. But the graduation ceremony was weird and, frankly, quite embarrassing. Every other faculty’s best students were dubbed “Cum Laude”, as they finished their thesis on time. Whenever students from other faculties were called to get some symbolic award/appreciation, their names, GPA, and cum laude title would be mentioned. When it’s time for us to go up front, the only thing mentioned by the MC was our faculty – not our names, not our GPA, and certainly not our cum laude award since we didn’t get any.

But yeah, I graduated and managed to achieve something I can be proud of.

And still, like I said, I was scared shitless. By the time I graduated most of my friends from my undergraduate studies had started doing pretty well. They were working while I was studying, and they end up deservingly achieving more than I have. One has even managed to apply for house installments. Meanwhile, with a master’s degree in Humanities, I had to look for jobs with requirements where employers want you to have 3 years of experience, a degree in anything but humanities, advanced understanding of software/design stuff, flawless body odor, zero body hair, superhuman abilities… you know what I mean.

The only qualification that I have where I fit for corporates is my English – the skill I acquired from my undergraduate study.

So I am left with a bitter truth. Two years of pursuing a master’s degree in Humanities doesn’t mean anything for corporate jobs.

To be fair, some of my friends managed to find proper jobs as copywriters and editors in respectable companies or art institutions. Some returned to their old jobs. Others thrived as literature experts or authors.

Looking at my friends doing well, I came to this simple hypothesis – that I am simply a useless piece of shit. A useless piece of shit with a master’s degree, but a useless piece of shit nonetheless.

But life wasn’t that bleak (or was it?). I applied to a number of companies, and I got two calls. The first is from a private, relatively highbrow Christian school. I applied for a music teacher vacancy. The second is from a consultant which was in need of a proofreader. I was accepted by both. However, looking back at my teaching experiences with spoiled kids from rich families in addition to my perfectionism (where I’m extremely dissatisfied if I give less than 100% in my classrooms), I chose the proofreading job.

The job gave adequate amount of pay (I managed to buy my first motorbike in 7 months, with strict saving and timely payments, of course). I met new people. I learned about office politics. I learned corporate terms. I learned working with people who cannot be criticized (unlike in the academia, where criticisms are normal and people always accept feedback so that they may improve). It was okay.

Except that – if we’ve been friends for awhile – probably you know that I wasn’t happy. After months of talking about culture, politics, society, and great thinkers, suddenly I met people with whom I could only talk about food, other people’s affairs, or job-related complaints. Don’t get me wrong, they’re amazing people. They taught me a lot of things and gave me a lot of tips that helped me survive the job (we always bought coffee and occasionally drank beer or went out to somewhere fancier than a nearby Chinese food stall where you spend $1.5 – $2.0 per meal).

It’s just I felt like an oddball.

Also, I had too high expectations from the company. From the job descriptions and the interview, I thought I would be able to contribute to the company by giving ideas which possibly improve the quality of our products (after all, my position as a proofreader belonged in the Quality Department). But it was just impossible. Though the job was to correct and develop people’s English, doing your job wholeheartedly only brought conflicts. Two months after settling into my new job, I stayed low. Seven months later, I resigned – I know, typical millennials.

But I learned so much about corporate culture. I learn how it is client-oriented, how quantity matters more than quality, how some companies see creativity as obstacles rather than opportunities, how office politics force people to quit, how hardworking people may be exploited, how affiliation may help you survive more than your quality of work… and most importantly, I learn about how your brain doesn’t really matter in the world of capitalism. Ironically, capitalism here resonates with communist leaders – they only want your obedience. Capitalism just has more ways and facades to force you to obey.

I’ve been jobless for almost six months now. Fortunately, my side job translating has given me enough to survive. My mentors from the academy also gave me opportunities to attend symposiums & seminars. I’m even fortunate enough to be given an opportunity to become an (informal) assistant researcher for a Ph.D candidate. It’s personally satisfying, but it doesn’t make enough money to survive.

So here I am.

Jobless with a master’s degree. Looking at LinkedIn vacancies where I don’t fit but I apply for anyway.

Again, like the stupid dreamer that I am, I have to confront reality where if you wish to live properly, it’s probably better to be practical from the start. Be less critical. Be less of a perfectionist. Be more sociable and get a network. Take a degree in business or economics. Work for a good company and stay loyal for years. Conform. Devote yourself a little more to the god of pragmatism.

In other words, don’t be me. You’ll probably have a better shot at getting a good job and living a good life than someone with a master’s degree.