When I arrived in Adelaide, I admit that it felt very different from being a tourist. All the pressures and needs of everyday life came with me--that includes the need for a steady income. 2 1/2 months of stress brought me gainful employment as an admin at a law firm. Not exactly the dream career I left graduate school hoping to achieve. Perhaps I was slightly overqualified for my role, but pickings were slim for an outsider who had to convince people she had a legitimate visa. And it was my first job. Education has this wonderful talent for building students up to make them believe they will get their dream job when they finish. Reality is, you're lucky if you get something a step up from the minimum wage job you did to get you though university.
So, for over a year, I grappled with the reality of a first job. Of the disappointment in being unable to obtain something in your field. Of the reality that the jobs just aren't there in the city you live in--or they haven't been created yet. Or maybe no one cares about the arts. Instead all that filled my mind was legal contracts, briefs to counsel, due diligence, court forms, lease agreements and the wealth of property developers and energy companies. Now, I know it paid the bills, but I was fighting for the two things I'm rather against -- urban sprawl and oil drilling. Not to mention you live in an office where there is a sometimes unspoken, but ever constant divide between the "professional staff" and the "admins". It's there, it hurts and it's offensive.
I can say that that divide even seeped into my personal life and I was friends in Adelaide with one too many lawyers. Not only was I reminded of my first demeaning quality (I was only a woman), but I was also the woman who was seen as their "secretary". So, I may harbour some bitterness when it comes to that role. And I may never look past that.
But, I by no means want that to be the judgement of my time in Adelaide, or my experience. It was unfortunate that I could not find the employment that would better suit my talent, skills and most importantly, my convictions. I'm not sorry to say that I hope to have left the legal world behind FOREVER.
Adelaide is a lovely place, but I was miserable. I was tainted largely by a job I hated and by always feeling like an outsider. I wasn't from Adelaide and that spoke volumes. I'd never belong, just like I can never change my accent. People will always tell me how much they "love New York City" when I tell them I'm from "New York State" and people will always wonder if I am on vacation. They might confuse me as a Canadian instead of being from the States, but that didn't matter. It only mattered that in many ways I was always being reminded that I wasn't from there, I didn't go to private school there and I would never be from there. I didn't grow up in the right suburb, didn't go the right clubs (I hate clubbing, I am so over a beat and no music) or even shop at the right stores. I don't wear makeup and I think my best outfit is a t-shirt, jeans and Sperrys. I hate high heels. I also hate both AFL Footy teams in Adelaide (go Saints). And I will never ever join a footy tipping group at work. NEVER. I think drinking after work on a Friday night with just workmates in the work kitchen is weird and anti-social. I also would like to point out that while I am American, I am not America itself and am not personally responsible for any comment or action made by the handful of nut job Americans out there. And when generalising my country, it does help that when you say "except you of course" you actually know other Americans you are generalising, because I'm pretty sure I'm the only American you know so I'm the only evidence you have to go on. I don't mind being different, I am proud to be different, but I shouldn't be ashamed because of it.
I haven't written much in the past year in Adelaide. Even with a new computer. I have no voice. I feel mute, uninspired, miserable, useless, homesick. I don't even take pictures. Any creativity I had was being squashed and I wouldn't stand for it. I was getting out. And that's how I found myself on a plane to Melbourne. On my way to the enemy. Dirty, nasty Victoria. A nice place, except it is full of Victorians. Or so they say.
I can't promise that Melbourne will do wonders for me. I can't promise that will heal every ache in my heart. But time will tell.
