Interns? Indentured Servitude? Slavery?

Slavery, in its essence - at least in America - has become a thing of the past. Thanks to good ol' Abe and the Emancipation Proclamation, honest folk were allowed to earn a decent wage, and be proud of that. But I don't think that's the case for eager youngsters such as myself who are jonsing for an ever-elusive position within the East Coast Media Elite. But, at what cost?

An article on Gawker recently illuminated the plight of a young student seeking a part-time internship at Atlantic Monthly. When she asked if the unpaid internship could be negotiated (either fewer hours or a stipend), the HR guy at Atlantic said, "Sorry, there's no wiggle room." Now, how is that possible? Humor me, as I do a little math.

College Education: $84,000
Remaining Student Loans: $20,000
Rent for a Microscopic Studio in East Village: $1,400/month
Utilities to Heat, Light, and Television-ize said Microscopic Apartment: $150/month
Whole Foods Market, One Bag of Groceries: $50/week
Over-priced Hipster Bars: $6/drink
Sad Little Bar-chats that Result from Not Wanting to Pay $6/drink: Your Dignity
Unlimited Metro Pass: $81/month
Getting Groped on the L Train by a Brooklyn Hipster: Free

Let's add up the numbers:
At least, there is $2,000 a month going down the tube. Annually, that's $24,000. About what a minimum wage worker makes. Not to mention little accidentals (I flew back to Ohio in September, lost my keys on the plane, and had to fork over $300 for a locksmith to break into my apartment at 1 in the morning...not to mention the Albanian locksmith wanted to take me out to dinner with the $300 I had just paid him.) Now, I know I majored in Creative Writing and numbers tend to give me hives and make me feel squeamish, but these are cold, hard facts. College graduates are lucky to make it out with enough to get started without working at Ben's Burger Shack for a few months, let alone sustain a demanding New York City life for more than a week at a time. As a lowly intern now, I have two jobs. I, at one point, had three. Even as a young, doe-eyed, fresh-faced twenty-something who gets dressed with the aid of birds every morning, I have my limits. And New York seems to be testing them.

This is for you, entertainment and media industry - we can't do this anymore. I am not a Rockefeller or a Vanderbilt, and I probably will never be. I know this is a rite of passage, it will make me a better person, everyone has to pay their dues. But enough. I'm smart. I work hard. Just because my parents decided not to be investment bankers shouldn't mean I'm denied an opportunity (although, investment banking ain't what it used to be.) The economy is sluggish. But don't let your morals be.

Love,
Me

Quote of the Day (from Gawker.com): "As always, offers of "opportunities" for eager and energetic youngsters looking to get into media are nothing short of insulting, and becoming more common. To the magazines: we know you're broke. But so is everybody else. So offer something, because family-funded minions will become less available as the recession progresses."