While in college, I’ve had three summer jobs/internships. I worked as an intern at a film non-profit production company in Pittsburgh, I filled out forms as an intern for a tax accountant/corporate lawyer, and I worked in the Special Collections & Archives at Kenyon College. A wide range of experiences, I know.
For my first two years of college, I was convinced I had my life figured out. (Feel free to roll your eyes. I’m doing it.) I was going to graduate, move to LA, and write movies. Then I had my film internship. It took about a week to realize film wasn’t the industry for me. Maybe I just had a bad boss, or a poorly structured internship, but I quickly convinced myself the entire entertainment industry was responsible for me hating that job. I wasn’t outgoing enough to set up meetings and sell this project to potential investors or collaborators. I also wasn’t outgoing enough to do the aggressive networking required to make it anywhere in that industry. I wasn’t dedicated enough to follow box office results or memorize the career trajectory of every minor celebrity to emerge from Pittsburgh (something my boss pointed out several times when he would randomly quiz us). I loved the writing, but I didn’t love the lifestyle required to break into the film industry. Simply put, I didn’t want to have to fight that hard. I didn’t want my life to be a guaranteed struggle. I wanted stability – long-term jobs rather than a patchwork of separate assignments.
This was the summer after my sophomore year, and honestly, it was a terrible summer. I only had to go to this internship for eight hours a week, but I dreaded every second of it. I’d hope traffic was awful (even though driving terrifies me), just so I could be a couple minutes late. I’d hunker in a corner with my laptop and hope none of the actual employees tried to interact with me. I’d find excuses to do my work outside of the office, because then I could be alone, even if the work was still boring.
I’m still glad I did it, though. Some negative experiences seem isolated from the bigger picture in my life, but this one wasn’t like that. It was an opportunity for me to test out this career path. It was me realizing I needed to find something else. It kept me from graduating, moving to LA, and only then realizing I hated it. It did exactly what an internship is supposed to do.
That same summer, I also probably the most boring job ever. I filled out tax documents and legal forms for a large corporation. It was exactly as boring as it sounds. I didn’t want to be an accountant or corporate lawyer before that job, and I really didn’t afterward. I just wanted to make money at a summer job. I succeeded.
After dropping my film major and career prospects, I flailed for a while before settling on becoming a librarian. The next summer (aka this past summer), I worked in the Special Collections & Archives (SC&A) at my college. Essentially SC&A is the part of the library where old/super cool/rare things are kept. Going in, I thought this was exactly what I wanted to do. Coming out, I’m pretty confident this is exactly what I want to do.
It’s hard to describe how different this experience was from my film internship. I looked forward to going into work every day. While I was working, time flew by. I felt like my work mattered and I was contributing to something bigger. I interacted with my coworkers and actually enjoyed it. I smiled more. I ate better. I exercised more regularly. It might have just been a coincidence, but it felt like my positive work experience was bleeding out into better mental health and a happier life.
I knew what a bad internship felt like. I knew the dread that comes with a job you despise. I knew the boredom of working in a field that’s just a bad fit. Working at the library was nothing like that. It was the opposite of all that. Instead of triggering a massive career-path shift, it reinforced the idea that I really do love that field. I love organizing and recording things. I love preserving the past and making it accessible to the public. And, frankly, I just love cool old stuff.
If I’m going to end this article with a lesson or piece of advice, let it be this: bad jobs are valuable too, because they tell you to try something different next time.