Debtless

Earlier this week, I completed the biggest monetary transaction of my life. It wasn't for anything fancy like a new car, LASIK surgery, or a trip to London this summer to see the Harry Potter play. The transaction was a mere ploy to eradicate an annoyance.

My student loan.

Despite my lack of money and scholarships, I was leery of student loans heading into college. Even in 2006 (did I really start college 10 years ago!?!?), the debt crisis for students was dire, and I wanted no part of it. So I worked as much as I could, which was enough to cover tuition for 3/4 of my undergrad and 1/3 of my master's.

The rest of that tuition, though? I had to swallow my pride and take out those stupid loans. Thankfully, my experience didn't turn into one of those horror stories you hear about—clueless kids (and their parents) scratching their heads when they finally realize they have to pay back the hundreds of thousands of dollars (plus interest) that magically covered their college bills. My student loan debt was lower than the national average, and making payments was never a problem (in fact, I usually paid significantly more than the minimum amount required).

But still. The fact that I had student loans at all was irksome.

Over the last two years, the education I went into debt to pay for really started to pay off. (For starters, I get to laugh in the face of the "experts" who advise against majoring in a humanities field. My expert advice is that your major is only as worthless as you make it.) I have enough experience now to get decent freelance gigs. I got a full-time job doing what I love with a company that offers competitive pay and fabulous benefits . . . including profit sharing.

This year's profit sharing was record high, and it was tempting to use it for something fun, like more camera equipment and some bookcases. I could have used it to pay for a trip, which is what a lot of my coworkers do. But once I realized that my profit sharing check + some savings would probably be enough to pay off my student loan completely, I couldn't get the thought out of my head. It glimmered at me like it was the Holy Grail.

Half the office made a beeline to the bank the minute those checks were in their hands. And it wasn't long before I had all the money I needed in my checking account—all that was left to do was approve the transfer. I hesitated briefly, as I am wont to do any time I "splurge" on something, then, taking a deep breath, hit "OK."

The deed was done.

The feeling of relief came gradually. Over the next few days, the relief hit me at random times, and I would have to stop and figure out why I felt so carefree. Then I would remember: I was debtless. I'm not wealthy by anyone's standards, but right about now I'm feeling like a million bucks.

I think I'll be logging into my My Fed Loan account more than usual for the next little bit, just so I can see this:

Total loan balance: $0.00.

When $100 is magical

Once upon a time, I accompanied my mom to the grocery store. She grumbled something about only having 10 dollars, and then quickly went into the store while I waited in the car. Though confused by my mom's tone of voice—she made it sound like 10 dollars was a useless lump of change—I imagined all the wonderful things I would buy with that kind of fortune. Why, I could get 20 candy bars for that much money! I could get 10 things off the dollar menu at Wendy's! I could buy a beautiful bag of marbles, a book, maybe even a Barbie.

Ten dollars was all it took to open up a whole new world of opportunities.

It wasn't long before people started tossing bills at me in exchange for watching their kids for a few hours. Payment for my services soon turned into checks that went straight to the bank.

In no time at all, money went from being a treasure to a commodity. I needed much more than 10 dollars now to imagine a life of riches. One hundred dollars would do it.

As a poor college student who now understood the feeling of helplessness caused by having only 10 dollars for groceries, an extra 100 dollars had enough power behind it to change my entire month. I could buy enough food to last for weeks, fill my car with gas several times, or even splurge on fast food just once without feeling guilty. It would be 100 less dollars I would have to save for tuition, or would pay for a nice chunk of books for one semester.

This time, though, the money wasn't a medium to get frivolous things. I stood in awe of it because every little bit made a noticeable difference in my quality of life.

Well, I graduated from college, and soon even the magic of 100 dollars disappeared. Now that I had established some stability with plenty of wiggle room, my dreams suddenly got a lot more expensive.

So the last four years when I've gotten my Christmas bonus (always $100 or less), I've stopped for a minute to think about the responsible things I could do with this extra money. Buy Christmas presents for other people. Put it in savings. Make an extra student loan payment.

But none of those options ever sound appealing. One hundred dollars isn't going to make much of a difference, no matter which good cause I try to dedicate it to. (Not to mention the bonus always comes in cash, which means a 20-minute trip to the nearest UCCU branch if I want to be boring and responsible.)

But there is one thing that has high potential for personal satisfaction: guilt-free indulgence. It's how I started my Harry Potter wand collection. It's paid for a couple extra movie tickets and delicious restaurant meals.

And this year, it allowed me to live one of my fantasies: a bookstore shopping spree.

This $100 was magical.

It started out like this:

Usually I'm more impressed by $100 bills, but this was the most
enthusiasm I could muster on a Tuesday right after work.

And turned into this:

This was before the BYU-Utah game happened.
Obviously.

I love Christmas.

The value of an English major

College education is under fire right now. A degree doesn't guarantee you a job after graduation. Recent graduates aren't prepared for the workforce. Tuition costs are skyrocketing. Students are drowning in debt.

Society's solution to these problems is to encourage students to major in something useful, like business or engineering. Don't waste time pursuing your passion, because there's no ROI in that.

My major, English, tops nearly every "Most Useless College Majors" list. Usually I just smirk when I read these articles. I think I've done okay with my English major, and every time someone jokes about its uselessness I enjoy using myself as an example to prove them wrong.

But I feel it's time to defend the value of an English major, and humanities in general. Aside from it actually being a fun major, there are benefits that even a money-focused society can recognize. 

Monetary value

Simply stating that the humanities make us better human beings will fall to deaf ears if I can't demonstrate its usefulness to the economy, so I'll start there.

If you're like most people, you probably think that the only thing you can do with an English major is teach or write. Teachers are notoriously underpaid, and writers--unless you're one of the rare gems of the literary world like J.K. Rowling--can't usually support themselves on book sales.

That's all the evidence most people need to conclude that an English major is doomed to an educated life of poverty. However, the skills acquired from a humanities background apply to so many fields. I'll go out on a limb here and say that an English major can qualify for more jobs than an engineering major.

Let's start with that skill we're all familiar with: writing. When I was hired at ChartLogic two and a half years ago, I knew absolutely nothing about healthcare technology. I knew nothing about marketing and sales, other than my belief that salesmen are evil. But the company wasn't looking for someone with marketing skills or healthcare knowledge. What they needed was someone who could write and who had a strong grasp of English usage and grammar. The rest could be taught.

While anyone can learn to write, only some can do it well, making writing a skill that's high in demand. Virtually every business needs a writer to write content for their website/blog. Good writers are essential for marketing collateral, business proposals, and technical materials. Editing is another skill that is applicable to many different fields, not just traditional publishing. 

Many writers have gone on to hold prestigious business positions like marketing director and editor in chief.  Others cushion their income a bit more by taking on freelance jobs for magazines, newspapers, and other businesses. Even if writing or editing isn't your forte, there are still companies that want employees that can think analytically, something humanities students excel at. And while I chose not to go this route, I applaud all those who have made it their business to make sure the next generation is literate.

It's true that most English majors won't be living in that mansion on top of the hill, but the idea that a major is only as useful as its potential for a six-figure salary is just dumb. So is the idea that a person can only do a couple of things with any given major. Education is only as useful as you make it; if you want to succeed, you'll find a way.

Societal value

I am in love  the written word, a craft that isn't getting the attention it should in schools. Without it, my life would be bland. According to this guy, 

Literature, we are told, is vitally engaged with the living situations of men and women: it is concrete rather than abstract, displays life in all its rich variousness, and rejects barren conceptual enquiry for the feel and taste of what it is to be alive.

Studies have also shown that those who read are more empathetic. In the words of one of my favorite authors, 

The ability to empathise with others is an essential ingredient in forming genuine relationships, and healthy, genuine relationships are the basis of lifelong happiness. We cannot live through everything, we cannot experience everything. But we can live our lives, listen to others, and read. Reading literature, reading deeply, fills in the gaps of personal experience. Reading makes us better, kinder, smarter, happier people.

And that's it, really. The humanities humanize us. Of course, we still need doctors, engineers, business people, tech geniuses, and yes, sales guys, but if we eliminated the word nerds, musicians, and historians because they studied Paradise Lost in college rather than economics, this world would sure be a boring, unfulfilled place to live in.

It's true! Money does not equal happiness

I was really curious to see what this whole having-extra-money-to-spare thing was going to do to me. After several months of collecting more income than a single girl needs, I have come to the same conclusion that I have held all along: money doesn't necessarily equal happiness.

Maybe I should rephrase that: instant gratification does not equal genuine happiness.

I grew up in a home without a lot of money. Despite growing up in a well-to-do neighborhood, we never had all the fancy toys that the neighbor kids had. What I considered a luxury my peers considered a necessity.

And I'm not going to say it wasn't hard--because it was. I had my days when I wished we would buy real-brand foods and that we could keep up with my constantly elongating body that required a new wardrobe every few years. I wanted to have what everyone else had, but that wasn't possible. Money would have solved a lot of problems for my entire family.

When I first started working soon after I turned 16, I loved earning money from a source outside of my parents. Most of the money I made went to car or school expenses--I had very little left over for personal toys. That's the way it was all through high school and on through college. I always had just enough to pay the bare minimum, enough to keep my head above the water.

All that changed a few months ago when I suddenly found myself with a steady income and no tuition costs hanging over my head (minus that annoying student loan I resorted to in order to preserve my sanity during my senior year). I had more money than I knew what to do with, and I'll admit--I went a little crazy.

I bought an amazing queen-sized bed (suddenly, my quality of sleep has gotten a lot better), I extensively updated my wardrobe, I moved into an apartment that isn't made out of cardboard, I bought a few toys I definitely don't need, and I've been a lot more loose about spending money on food and personal supplies.

And you know what? Despite having the funds to buy everything I could have dreamed of as a college student (you know, like enough clothes to go a month without doing laundry, and a steak every now and then), there is always something else to buy. Always something else that I want that I don't have. And with the funds to buy them, it's really hard to control myself. There's human nature for you.

I am not saying that money is evil--not even close. Being able to handle all of my expenses is a huge burden off my shoulders. In fact, sometimes I still feel like I'll float away because I don't quite know how to function without that burden.

But having to do without taught me creativity. The most fun I ever had Christmas shopping was the year I bought 8 presents for under $45, or the years my mom helped me make a present for one of my siblings. I made great friends during my years in BYU's ghetto apartments and we found ways to entertain ourselves with no money whatsoever, whether it was a snowball fight in the parking lot or rearranging the furniture in a non-constructive way. As a kid, I spent hours pretending and making up games outside--racing down the hill by my house on the wagon with the twisted wheel, discovering new worlds in the mountains behind the park, and making cool stuff out of yarn, cardboard, and scraps of material. In fact, most of the time the money thing wasn't even an issue. My basic needs were being met and I had my family and the gospel. That was all I needed.

I wish everyone had the opportunity to really work for what they have and to learn to do without. Those two things have defined my personality in many ways, and has helped me refine the art of finding joy in the journey.

Since I got my first post-college job, I haven't noticed a huge increase in happiness. Yes, things are pretty awesome because I am finally living a life I have prepared for for a lot of years, but it's not like there was a magic formula hidden in my salary that automatically produced happiness.

So, I am happy to say that my old methods of happiness still stand: gospel, family, work, gratitude, creativity. I knew I was right.