PERSPECTIVE ON JOBS : Anyone for a Degree in Failure? : A successful academic career should be ‘marketable,’ but not even the entry level is hiring.

I just got back from my third job interview this week. I’ve been looking for an entry-level administrative support position (read: receptionist). I haven’t had much luck. I can only look at my experiences so far and laugh.

I’m one of the thousands--tens of thousands, probably--of the college Class of ’92 who are still looking for work. I can laugh because I’m lucky enough to have parents who can provide a roof over my head and the occasional use of a car. And I’m laughing because on every job interview I hear the same silly question: Why am I, with a college degree and an impressive (for a recent grad) resume, looking for a job as a receptionist?

Supposedly, I did everything right. I worked hard through high school to get myself into UCLA. At freshman orientation, professors and counselors alike all warned that studying hard is only half the job of earning a degree. They grimly predicted that the generic “person sitting on your right will not be here in four years,” graduating in the Class of ’92. Afterward, I heard a few of my classmates wondering aloud whether, with all the budget cuts in education, the guy lecturing us would be here in four years. I determined that I would not only defy the odds and graduate, but I would do it in the standard four years, an increasingly rare feat for today’s undergraduates.

Throughout those years, I was warned that my postgraduate employment would depend on my “marketability.” Suddenly, I no longer felt like part of America’s future--more like part of a Coca-Cola marketing scheme. It was no longer my education, skills and qualifications that mattered, but whether I could persuade a fickle audience of potential employers that I was “it,” the real thing, the end-all, be-all of employees.

To improve my marketability, again I did all the right things. As a political- science major, I hoped that the 1992 elections would increase the demand for fresh young political analysts. I knew that having some practical experience would be a plus, so I picked up and moved to Washington for one summer and then for another quarter of the school year, ready to pay my dues at the bottom of the career totem pole. I was a college intern, which means that for six months, I worked 40 hours a week for free. I chose my two intern positions very carefully, aware that they could affect my future employment and socioeconomic status. One job focused on civil-liberties policy, the other on U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East.

So here I am. A graduate of a prestigious university with a carefully built resume and plans to save the world--and I’m interviewing for jobs answering phones and making coffee. (Didn’t Gloria Steinem take care of that coffee thing years ago?)

All of my potential employers seem to be unaware of the realities of the job market. With a barely suppressed sneer, they ask why I am aiming so low with my “credentials.” I resist biting my lip as I throw out the appropriate lines:

“I hope to get a master’s in something . . . somewhere . . . but at night, so it won’t interfere.”

“I need some solid corporate workplace experience.”

And the ever popular, “I’m looking for a position with room to grow.”

The truth of the matter is, there just aren’t a whole lot of sustenance-paying, intellect-challenging jobs out there.

My generation is willing to make itself marketable, but first we need a market.

Thankfully, on Nov. 3, the American electorate saw what George Bush and his classmates in the School of Effortless Upward Mobility did not. Now we have a President-elect, Bill Clinton, who knows that today’s students and new graduates are the hope for America’s tomorrow, just as his generation was. The time has finally arrived for that generation to fulfill its destiny--and to help us start on ours.

For the first time in a long time, I, too, believe in a place called Hope.