You, in all of your complex, vast, unique You-ness, are more than an 8.5" x 11" piece of a paper.
Every time we utter that ugly sentence-- "It will look good on your resume"-- we continue to preach that, actually, you aren't more than an 8.5" x 11" piece of paper.
Every time we utter that ugly sentence we dehumanize people. Dehumanize may be a strong word, but it's the right word. To dehumanize someone is to treat someone as less than human. That's exactly what we're doing here. We look at someone, then smoosh, shrink, squeeze them until they stand exactly 12 pt. tall, Times New Roman of course.
As a senior in college, lately I've been fighting the belief that I am more than my resume. While my driver's license may state that I am 5'10," on days when I'm working on post-grad applications, I do feel about 12 pt. tall. And my resume, in clear honestly, isn't something to feel small about. But the fact remains that a lot of my worth, at least to future employers and other Determiners of My Future, seems like it's wrapped up in my resume. That it doesn't matter what I'm doing or have done, I need to do more. Better. Faster. Now.
This harsh utilitarian gloss that is painted over our college career is so damaging. Are people doing things out of pure, unadulterated joy? Or because they're imagining how that experience can be truncated into a couple lines on their ever important resume? I absolutely love writing; it's my life blood. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't consider how impressive editor-in-chief of student newspaper would look on my resume. I can't remember what the elapsed time between getting the gig as editor-in-chief and updating my Hagan_Resume.docx was, but I'd imagine it was a same-day kind of deal.
This is not to say that people should slack off, cast off the burden of adulthood that is Responsibility and just do what you feel like. Responsibility and work ethic are absolutely paramount. But there is such an emptiness to doing things only for the sake of adding to one's resume. That drains that activity or experience of any joy.
Resumes then transform into documents that certify us as hollow people. "Here's a list of things I did for the sake of doing them." A hollow person isn't of much use. I believe that people perform best and grow more when doing something that they are passionate about. They are more open to learning, to improving, to persevering.
It is a sad waste to fill a document with lines of passionless things. We need to infuse the things we do with genuine curiosity and impassioned effort. We need to get back to seeing people as people. Or maybe it's more accurate to say that we need to go forward to seeing people as people. I have a feeling that the world will be far better off for it.
