LAS

As a tot, I always played the teacher role. I was the teacher in our 2nd grade assembly and I earned two Academy Award nominations for the role (lost to Meryl Streep yet again). I played school with my friends, my then-infant brother, and by myself because I was a loner. I loved being in charge, loved the structure, and loved the power of the red pen.

But I never really thought I'd be a real teacher. In fact, I never really thought about being a real anything.

You see, I suffer from a syndrome known as Liberal Arts Syndrome, or LAS as it's known in the industry. LAS most often strikes the upper middle class population and is particularly cruel to females.

Symptoms include:

- a propensity toward "saving the world"
- ellipticizing to burn off that fro-yo and spinach salad with balsamic (no meat! baby cows are just sooo cute) you scarfed down because you just have no. self. control.
- liberal political beliefs ("love is love" is a catchphrase of ours) and strong support of high taxes until you start paying them yourself
- summers of interning at various non profits because you just really like helping people who were dealt a shitty hand of cards
- the simultaneous need to say pretentious things like "Arrested Development was SO underappreciated" while DVRing all Real Housewives franchises (except Atlanta & Miami)
- a wardrobe of leggings, Northface, & Nike
- no marketable skills

As someone living with LAS, I knew it would be tough to have a worthwhile future because we thrive in a university setting and often don't make it past 22. We're pretty good at everything but really good at nothing. We have too many interests but never dream of committing to any one of them. That's why it was such a surprise to actually get a job for this year, even if it is in the least surprising field for people living with LAS: education. Now I am fulfilling my long-forgotten dreams of teaching, imparting wisdom to future generations, and using the dry-erase board (because every math problem becomes 40x more fun when you get to use the dry-erase board).

The thing about dreams is that they are better when you're sleeping and so I must announce that I am not meant to be a teacher. It isn't painful for me to say this because I realized this about 4 years ago when I was doing after-school tutoring and realized how frustrating children are. I really don't want to, nor do I know how to, stop your kid from crying, yelling, hitting, or eating his boogers. I will probably run into these same issues with my own children but we will address that issue when we come to it (8-9 years, don't worry, Lisa & Vince). There are so many emotional, social, & political obstacles that teachers have to deal with, and I am already burning out from my not-an-actual-teacher job. Let me reiterate that I have so much freaking respect for teachers because it is probs the hardest job in the world if you do it well. When I become wealthy & extremely powerful, I will increase teachers' salaries in addition to giving my kids' teachers' badass holiday gifts (talking to you, Tara). But I myself will not be among the teacher crew.

My current plan, if you're wondering how I plan to continue my fight against LAS, is to go to law school and become a crusader for social justice through sweeping change. While I do plan on meeting my liberal, hard-working, Zac Efron lookalike husband (who may come from old money but is not required to), husband-hunting is not my sole purpose. I want to be able to afford my all-J. Crew wardrobe and quarterly exotic vacations all by myself, thank you very much. I also want to save the world, make our country more socially liberal, help people who were dealt a shitty hand of cards. After all, LAS can be managed but never fully cured.