What Do You Do?

A couple months ago, I went through a bit of a slump (between our weeks and weeks of entertaining company and our big trip to the Eastern Mediterranean). All of our company had come and gone, and it was time to get back to my normal routine. The sharp contrast between non-stop sightseeing and the daily tasks of laundry and grocery shopping left me feeling a bit lost. With more time on my hands, I found myself getting wrapped up in self-reflection. I started to write about my this reflection at that time, but I never seemed to be able to find the right words. Now that I've written the imperfection post, however, I feel like I owe it to myself to get out these thoughts in whatever form possible.

One of the most difficult issues for me surrounding our move out of the country has been to find an identity outside of work. It's hard to explain this challenge to people not in my position. Not working has not been a financial burden, but it has been a bit hard on my psyche. The first thing that people ask when you meet them or reunite with them (after the formal "How are you doing?") seems to be, "So, what do you do for a living?" At my high school reunion a couple years ago, I faced this question over and over. And, although my answer of "I'm a technical writer" left more than a few people confused, looking back there was some satisfaction in having a response. I don't think I ever realized how much of my identify I attached to my job. It's not that I attach my identify to a specific profession, though, but more that I identify as a person who works. I should have known that this was an important part of me. When I was 16, I couldn't wait to get a job. To me, having a job and an income meant having some independence.

Now that I'm abroad, the first question people tend to ask is "So, what brought you over here?" When I respond that it was my husband's job, the next query is normal along the lines of "And what are you doing?" I normally stumble through the response trying to come up with something that creates an identify for myself, "Well, I'm writing a lot. And, of course, trying to see as much as I can..." It's hard, though, because I don't feel like I have one major thing that identifies me here. Before we left, I resigned at my job, but even then, I had things that identified me. I resigned because I was planning on going back to school (which I will still do this fall). To me, being a student is equivalent to having a job in terms of identity formation. "What do you do?" "I'm working on my PhD in English literature." It gives me a satisfactory response to the question. In addition to classes, at home I can always tell people I am a freelance writer (which I haven't been able to continue over here due to work permit/ tax complications) or that I teach at a community college (which I will resume in the fall). I can also tell people I play disc golf. It's far from a job, but it is something that makes up my identity. Here, however, the disc golf scene is less than ideal, and it takes me almost two hours of public transportation to get to the nearest 18 hole course. Sometimes I provide the sort-of-joking answer of "Well, I do laundry, cook, clean, and run errands," but this doesn't always go over too well since working people have to do these things, too (unless, of course, they have a stay at home spouse).

Anyway, my reflection on my response to the "what are you doing question", the realization that I largely linked my identity to working, and a few conversations I had with other women who had been in a similar situation, led me to the conclusion that my feelings were predominately tied to my culture. This idea was further reinforced when CNN ran a series called "Vacation in America". In the article "Why is America the 'no-vacation nation'?", the author cites a recent study published in the Journal of Happiness Studies:

"Working more makes Americans happier than Europeans, according to a study published recently in the Journal of Happiness Studies. That may be because Americans believe more than Europeans do that hard work is associated with success, wrote Adam Okulicz-Kozaryn, the study's author and an assistant professor at the University of Texas at Dallas."

The researcher found:

"Americans maximize their... [happiness] by working, and Europeans maximize their [happiness] through leisure."

Bingo! That's it exactly. For me, even when I complain about a job, I find satisfaction in getting my job done and in churning out quality work. Working actually does give me happiness. Before we left, I was teaching at two colleges, working full-time as a technical writer, freelance writing, and planning a wedding! And even though I was stressed, tired, and overworked, I felt satisfaction in my ability to juggle these tasks.

At first when I saw the vacation signs around town, I couldn't believe that shop owners would willingly close down their businesses for up to a month and lose that income. I quickly realized, however, that the mindset about working and vacation is different here. Working is something you do to earn money. When you leave work, your number one priority is your family and friends. People don't bring work home from the office. They don't work late into the evening. Shops aren't open as many hours and may even close for weeks, because working isn't the number one priority. And even with this mentality, work gets done, items in the stores get sold, and people go on living their lives. According to the home affairs ministry, the quality of life in the Netherlands was hardly affected by the recent economic crisis. Maybe as Americans we could learn something about enjoying a well deserved break and refocusing our priorities a little closer to home (literally... I'm not trying to make a comment on foreign policy, just on our day to day mentalities.)