Here’s a good use for your useless major

Monday, October 13, 1997

Here’s a good use for your useless major

JOBS: Great jobs for students who fear serving fries for a
living

Normally I make an effort never to do this, but last week I got
to thinking. I got to thinking because last Thursday I made the
mistake of gracing the Annual UCLA Career Fair with my skinny white
presence, and while there I noticed that not a single job in the
whole Pavilion (Pauley, that is) appealed to me. Granted, it’s
probably unreasonable to expect a company called "We hire former
longhairs with sarcastic attitudes and pay them to sit around
listening to Phish and waiting for their goatees to grow in" to pop
up at the ol’ career fair, but wouldn’t you give any of your left
appendages to have that company name printed on your business card?
(I know I would.)

So, like I said, the job fair got me thinking. And when I start
thinking, columns get written. (But what did I think, you ask?) I
thought that every company at the "Jobs for Bruins" fair was
oriented toward (no offense) south-campus types, and being a proud
psychology student ("Would you like a Scantron with that?"), that
pissed me off. But if I’ve learned one thing at UCLA (and I
probably have), it’s that when you get pissed off about something,
you should write about it. (The other option would be to get off
your collegiate ass and actually do something about it.)

So here we go. Since our annual Career Fair saw fit to exclude
me (and people like me, if you dare believe that they exist), I
took the liberty of designing a few Career Fairs of my own. The
plans for my quite topical (and well-planned) fairs are listed
below (and quite possibly on another page). They are organized by
major, and each fair proposal includes the company (or companies)
that I would invite and why. (I can hear the photocopiers in the
Career Center warming up already.)

Ever the narcissist, I thought I’d begin my list with the Career
Fair designed for psychology students. (This way, no one will be
able to justify the rage they feel when they read what companies I
would invite to the Career Fair designed for their beloved major.)
Personally, I think most UCLA psychology students would be well
served by a career or internship with the Bic company. This way
they (or dare I say, "we") can all be introduced to the phenomenon
the rest of the world knows as "writing in ink" ("What? You mean I
can’t turn in my budget proposal on a Scantron?").

I have a handful of close friends who recently received degrees
in sociology from various universities (including our own proud
institution), and I can only think of one company (if you want to
call it that) to invite to a Career Fair for sociology students –
the Federal Government’s Unemployment Office. (Hey, you might as
well fill out all that paperwork before you graduate so don’t miss
any episodes of Montel after you get your degree.)

I actually had a tough time thinking of an appropriate company
to invite to a Career Fair for English students, but eventually I
decided on one: Kindercare. You can deny it if you want, English
student, but you’re looking at a career in substitute teaching. And
(that’s right) substitute teaching is synonymous with babysitting,
so why not get a jump on the action now? ("You suck! Our regular
teacher always lets us barbecue during class!")

Designing a job fair for History students is (surprisingly) the
easiest of all. At first I thought it would be the most difficult
of all, but then it occurred to me that anyone who spends four (or
quite possibly more) years studying history isn’t interested in
getting a job. Those people learn for learning’s sake, and I
applaud them. (See also: sociology job fair.)

I thought about designing a career fair for chemistry and
biology students, but then it occurred to me that the people in
both of those majors probably consider themselves too intelligent
to ever read my column, so I decided against it. Besides, we all
know that people major in bio because their parents are pressuring
them to become doctors, and anyone with a degree in chemistry is
going to end up being an awful chemistry professor like the ones we
are so fortunate to have here at UCLA, so I won’t waste their time
(or ours) by blessing them with a Justin Horey-designed Career
Fair.

My last Career Fair would be the most inclusive, as it would
cover three majors. Those three majors would be theater, dance and
film and television. It is my not-so-humble opinion that UCLA
students enrolled in any of those programs could benefit from an
opportunity to meet with as many L.A. area restaurants as possible,
so that is what my career fair would provide for them. (Don’t
believe me? Next time you’re at Ed’s, ask your server what year
they graduated from UCLA’s theater program. You’ll be glad you
did.)

OK, so maybe you’re not a senior. Maybe you’re a sixth-year
student and you’re still not a senior. Maybe you’re a grad student
because you never got a chance to attend a career fair like the
ones I proposed, and now you’re avoiding the real world. You’re
probably thinking that this column has nothing to offer you, but
you’re probably reading it anyway, because you have time to waste
before the world smacks you with a sour dose of reality. Fear not,
for I have the solution to all of your problems and more (just try
to figure that one out): while you’re still at UCLA, enroll in Paul
Abramson’s Human Sexuality Class. (Yes, it’s a psych class – get
over it.)

First of all, I’d like to point out that in all of my time as a
Viewpoint columnist, I have never before endorsed a class or a
professor. (And you know what that means: Paul Abramson gave me
money. Sponsorship!) What good can Mr. Abramson’s sexuality class
possibly do anyone? Immeasurable good, thank you. Not surprisingly,
I am currently enrolled in the class in question. Last week my
classmates and I learned that Bonobo Chimpanzees often rub each
other’s genitals during periods of high Bonobo stress. This has
clear and profound applications to everyday life (career bound or
otherwise), does it not? Let’s apply my theory.

The next time you get stopped for speeding, reach out your
window, give that cop a little genital rub and just watch the hours
of traffic school time disappear. How many parking tickets do you
think you’d have if you made it a practice of rubbing the genitals
of the Parking Enforcement beings? (That is, of course, assuming
that they are not in fact asexual.) And that class you’re
wait-listed for? I’ll just bet that giving your professor a little
genital rub could land you a PTE number. In fact, I can’t think of
a person in the world who wouldn’t be much nicer for a little
genital rubbing. Viewpoint columnists included.

Justin Horey