“Do what you love” disguises the fact that being able to choose a career primarily for personal reward is a privilege, a sign of socioeconomic class. Even if a self-employed graphic designer had parents who could pay for art school and co-sign a lease for a slick Brooklyn apartment, she can bestow DWYL as career advice upon those covetous of her success.
If we believe that working as a Silicon Valley entrepreneur or a museum publicist or a think-tank acolyte is essential to being true to ourselves, what do we believe about the inner lives and hopes of those who clean hotel rooms and stock shelves at big-box stores? The answer is: nothing."
a couple of other quotes from the article i really like:
According to this way of thinking, labor is not something one does for compensation but is an act of love. If profit doesn’t happen to follow, presumably it is because the worker’s passion and determination were insufficient. Its real achievement is making workers believe their labor serves the self and not the marketplace
Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life! Before succumbing to the intoxicating warmth of that promise, it’s critical to ask, “Who, exactly, benefits from making work feel like nonwork?” “Why should workers feel as if they aren’t working when they are?” In masking the very exploitative mechanisms of labor that it fuels, DWYL is, in fact, the most perfect ideological tool of capitalism. If we acknowledged all of our work as work, we could set appropriate limits for it, demanding fair compensation and humane schedules that allow for family and leisure time.
- Female Comic: Being a woman is kind of a nightmare sometimes!
- The General Public: *crickets*
- Louis CK: Being a woman is kind of a nightmare sometimes!
- The General Public: *standing ovation* *balloons drop from ceiling* *Louis CK elected President of Comedy* Hahaha that is SO TRUE! I'm so glad this guy gets it! Have you heard his bit about how it's ok to say faggot?
INT. WINDOWLESS OFFICE - 4:00PM FRIDAY
The loneliest place in the world.
Will Barnet Woman and Cats (1962) via Smithsonian
Gentle women and wild animals are linked in myth and fable, fashion photography and pornography, pulp art and fine art; men hunt wild animals, and women cuddle them
The centerpiece of Blackfish, a new documentary film about killer whales in captivity, is the gruesome death of SeaWorld trainer Dawn Brancheau. In 2010, Dawn was killed by Tilikum, a six-ton bull orca. The film does not include footage from what has been termed the “death tape,” but it does scan Dawn’s autopsy report, which dryly states that the 40-year-old female suffered numerous abrasions, dislocations, a broken back and jaw, hemorrhaging at multiple sites, and eventual death by suffocation. Her right arm was missing, and she was scalped. The time of death was some 30 minutes before Tilikum relinquished Dawn’s mutilated body.
Dawn was one of SeaWorld’s most experienced and respected trainers, and she had a reputation for strictly following safety protocols. Working with whales was a childhood dream; her family remembers the day she joined SeaWorld, at age twenty-three, as the happiest day of her life. A former student body president and homecoming queen with a gleaming smile, Dawn was also SeaWorld’s public face, appearing as a game show contestant, and on commercials, billboards, and murals. “She was beautiful, blonde, athletic, friendly,” one colleague remembers. “She captured what it means to be a SeaWorld trainer.”