This blog is a manifesto of sorts.
I've been wanting to start a "real blog" for some time now. Like many bright young things of my generation, I've been a casual blogger for years--mostly on the now-dying Livejournal, which I left following its sale to a Russian marketing company and ensuing questionable changes to its user and privacy policies. I haven't blogged much since then. For awhile, I was too busy, with school, with BarBri, and then with the disappointments of an unforgiving job market for new J.D.s.
But now it's time to get serious.
What I want to talk about here is threefold. First, I want to talk about justice, and about the American legal system, and why they do not exist in the same sphere. Inherent in this discussion is the problematic nature of American legal education as well as the broken values and ingrained classism of our legal culture.
Second, I want to talk about my personal journey inside and outside the legal world. Part of this story will be the story of why I went to law school in the first place and why my experiences there brought me to the realization that law was not a great fit. The main story, however, is the one that I am living--the struggle between my own dreams and societal expectations, between the pressure of debt and material necessity and the need to discover work that I truly believe in and enjoy.
I think this is a conflict that faces many Americans today. Our economy and our culture's skewed ideas about work and material worth are killing our souls and lives. And this is the third topic I want to explore with this blog--what I think of as a spiritual as well as political crisis within our society. So I will discuss politics as well, not only economic politics but queer politics, racial politics, disability politics, and sexual politics, because I believe they are all connected. The political is personal is political.
I have a job now. It's not a legal job. But it's not one that I enjoy, either. I work as a fundraiser for a major progressive organization, and my experience with their policies has made me question the entire progressive political movement, of which I once counted myself a member.
When you come to question all the institutions with which you once identified, what do you have left?
I have myself. That's all. Myself and my own passions and convictions, the ones that have survived my alienation. The ones that really mean something.
And hopefully, at some point, I'll have you, the readers, to make this journey with me.
This is wonderful. As someone who also pursued a graduate degree in a field that I came to be disillusioned with (secondary education), I am always concerned with the ways American systems are broken.
ReplyDeleteI'm still finding my career path as well. I am interested to know more about your disillusionment with progressivism, or is it more hypocrisy that concerns you?
Basically, the corporation I work for is the moneymaking backbone of the progressive movement. MoveOn, the Human Rights Campaign, even Planned Parenthood all use this same fundraising conglomerate. All are run by the same mysterious guy at the top, and all use the same hypocritical, anti-union employment practices. There are also huge problems with financial transparency--where does the money go and what does it fund? Who is making the policies and why?
ReplyDeleteI want to post more about this, but I recently realized after an off-hand comment by one of my bosses that it doesn't profit this company to actually win big victories. George Bush was great for their fundraising, they say. Seen in this light, it's hardly surprising that the progressive movement has been such an overall failure. It's profitable to win little victories that are symbolic but not actually very helpful (like the recent healthcare bill) but not to win big--because winning big means less money coming in.
I mean, I don't want to get too Conspiracy Theory, but I'm seeing a big picture that I don't like at all. The man at the top is this shadowy figure who, word has it, owns three mansions and gets crazy perks paid for by the funds I raise--and has his finger in every progressive pie across the country. It's strange and would explain a lot about the disappointing weakness of a movement. People think they are doing something by giving money so they don't act otherwise--but where is the money really going? We reach out to middle and upper class donors--so who are we really serving? Those are the questions I've been pondering lately, and it makes it pretty tough to feel good about the work I do.