She Strengthens

The Unspoken Truth About Grad School

As a fresh college graduate, I was faced with a daunting reality: hundreds of job applications, zero callbacks. With a degree in English from a prestigious New England college, I had two options: accept defeat and pivot to a new career or take the leap and pursue a Master’s degree. With minimal debt and acceptance into top MFA programs, I chose the latter.

Fast-forward two years, and I’m now 25, holding an MFA in Creative Writing, and drowning in nearly six figures of debt. My days are spent juggling two nannying jobs in Manhattan, all while trying to squeeze in writing on the side. The irony isn’t lost on me – I’m living in Brooklyn with fellow MFA holders, struggling to make ends meet.

The Double Life of a Nanny-Wannabe Writer

My nannying gigs are a far cry from the creative fulfillment I once knew. One family, located in the Upper West Side, requires a 9-to-5 schedule, leaving me little time for my own writing. The other, in Tribeca, offers more flexibility, but the kids are often asleep, allowing me to sneak in some writing. The dynamic between the two families is complicated, to say the least. The wife of the first family works part-time as a graphic designer, while I’m left to care for the children. It’s hard not to feel resentment towards her, knowing she has the luxury of working at her own pace.

The Dark Side of Advanced Education

Grad school may have opened doors, but it’s also led to a sense of shame about my current work. My MFA, once a source of pride, now feels like a constant reminder of my failed expectations. I know, objectively, that it’s not a golden ticket to a lucrative career, but I can’t help feeling like I’ve been duped. The debt is suffocating, and the pressure to repay it is crushing.

Lost in a Sea of Disappointment

I’m lucky to have a few paying writing gigs, but they’re a far cry from the creative writing I once pursued. I miss the feedback, the critiques, and the sense of accomplishment that came with producing meaningful work. It’s hard not to feel like I’ve sold out, taking on technical writing jobs just to make ends meet.

The Temptation of a Gilded Cage

Sometimes, I find myself envying the comfortable lifestyle of the families I work for. A rich husband, an artistically fulfilled wife, and children who want for nothing – it’s a tempting prospect. I’ve even considered finding a wealthy partner to support me while I pursue my passion projects. It’s a notion that goes against everything I believe in as a feminist, but the allure of financial security is hard to resist.

The Bittersweet Truth

Do I regret my Master’s degree? Not really. The experience was invaluable, and the memories sustain me on my toughest days. But the harsh reality is that I’m still just a nanny, struggling to make ends meet. The pieces of paper with my name on them may be impressive, but they don’t pay the bills. As I go home each day, exhausted and smelling of Play-Doh, I’m reminded that sometimes, even the most prestigious education can’t guarantee success.