Oh, the woes of being a college senior.
As a college freshman, I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. Now that my time here is coming to an end, I still don’t know what I want to be. I’m sure many others feel the same.
And for those of us who consider ourselves community organizers, the dilemma is much trickier.
The road to making this a living is much less tenable than our peers who are bound for law school or medical school.
Community organizing involves doing just what the name says: immersing oneself in the community. We are called to our respective communities ““ the Pilipino community, the African American community, the LGBTQ community, or whatever community applies to you ““ because the inequalities and injustices that are present spark a passion within us to revolutionize our current reality. Those of us with the privilege of obtaining higher education feel an even greater need to serve our communities.
The problem with this, though, is that we usually do these things for little or no pay. And as college students, it’s not as huge of a problem as it would be if we already had to depend on our income to survive. We are technically full-time students by occupation, so it’s OK that we’re not making any money. Loans, financial aid and the generosity of our parents cover our rent, groceries, gas and cell phone bills.
However, once the title of “student” disappears, pressure grows to get a real job. The understanding nature of parents may dissipate unbelievably fast as they expect us to start making a salary and pay them back or at least get off their payroll. And unless your parents are extremely generous, the freebies they once gave us when we were undergraduates will be cut off. Not to mention Sallie Mae’s refusal to give out loans once you’re a regular adult.
Being a community organizer changes your life. The type of work, the people you meet, the discussions and dialogue, the spaces which evoke unbounded creativity ““ nothing can rival the beauty of this experience.
For me, I discovered the world of community organizing when I first came to UCLA. I found myself working with high school youths, facilitating discussions on feminist issues, organizing my peers around the Justice for Filipino American Veterans campaign and thinking of ways to convince UCLA’s campus to wake up and mobilize to end the war in Iraq. This, coupled with my women’s studies and Asian American studies classes, convinced me that social justice was my calling.
Great. Now that I’ve got that figured out, what next? I’ve realized that I care about more issues than I can possibly handle, but I need to turn this passion into a sustainable living. Apollo Victoria, chairperson of Habi Arts, a Los Angeles-based human rights organization that focuses on bringing change through art, said, “Giving up my full-time job was not an option, because my activism or community organizing cannot sustain itself. From then until now, I would just have to figure how to balance my tech job by day with my activism by night.”
I’ve seen those before me who have graduated ““ presidents, in fact, of community organizations ““ become exasperated by the fact that in order to pay the bills, it requires some sacrifice “to the Man.” There is so much to say about our society as it forces radicals to acquiesce to the system through debt, mortgage and the ingrained normalcy of the heterosexual family unit, which makes us think we need to get married and have children in order to be fulfilled.
“What makes it difficult is that our society doesn’t necessarily foster an environment for progressive activism and organizing. Even setting up a nonprofit organization has a way of toning down the politics,” Victoria said.
Unsurprisingly, in order to attain 501(c)(3) status, which essentially means to receive government funding, you need to remain apolitical. However, those of us who understand the imminent need to create radical change and empower our communities know that this requires blatant politics. To compromise such beliefs would be unacceptable.
Nonetheless, after I spoke with people who have graduated and are currently facing these challenges, I’m able to rest easier. Eric Gardner, a UCLA staff member and organizer with Students for a Democratic Society, said fighting inequality is not a finite process.
“The struggle for social justice is not a “˜stage’ meant to keep young people busy until they move on to start families, careers, or retirement funds. Struggle is what moves society forward,” Gardner said.
Furthermore, after attending the third national BAYAN-USA conference, which brought a multitude of progressive Pilipino organizations from around the country together, I became inspired by the late 20-somethings, 30-somethings and even 50-somethings who have not lost any of their passion to empower marginalized communities. Although there are few paid positions within these types of organizations, they do exist. And for those of us who may not be as lucky to secure those few paid positions, there are always other ways to eradicate injustice. Whether it is through legislation, education or counseling, a radical consciousness can always transform such fields.
And if I’ve learned anything from my time organizing and from the people I’ve met, I know that although diverging from dictated pathways in life may be difficult, it’s usually the most fulfilling road.
If you’re a fourth-year and annoyed by the ubiquitous “What are you going to do next?” question, then e-mail Sterling at asterling@media.ucla.edu. Send general comments to viewpoint@media.ucla.edu.