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In college I somehow orchestrated an internship interview at the @NewYorker. I couldn't believe it. I put on a bad suit, went down to NYC. And I GOT the gig! Then, in my joyous disbelief, as a life of art & writing opened to me just briefly, they told me it was unpaid.+ https://twitter.com/rachelysanders/status/1352259801993125890
I was on work study & cldnt afford to do free work. Still I thought abt it, and said I'd do it! --it was the New Yorker!! They said great, come on Fridays. (It was my work-study day, so I'd have to miss paid hrs.) Still I said, okay, okay no problem-- I'll move things around:
I will travel 4 hrs every Friday to & from NYC, to work an unpaid position. But I didn't have any money! So I forced myself to ask --sheepishly, at the end of the interview, while she was wrapping it all up-- whether they could maybe please at least ... pay my train fare?
The response was instant: No. Sorry. We don't pay. I said, yes I know, no salary. But perhaps 18 bucks per Friday, for the train, so I can do my 4 hours to get here & back? Otherwise I can't do it? No. There is no payment of any kind; this is the @newyorker so consider carefully.
I did. But it was too much; I couldn't do it. So I just left. Didn't take the job; lost the shot; missed the chance, I guess, to be part of the club. I often think about the people who stuck it out, whether they got writing gigs there or what. I think many did!
Fast forward to after graduation, I'm temping in NYC & catch some shitty gig @ the Conde Nast building, where @NewYorker offices were. Show up with my temp badge & watch all the assistants, interns, etc--the ppl that would have been me-- filing thru the gleaming building;
But they weren't me: they were better, richer, less needy versions of me. I remember beautiful outfits: casual-shoulder suits with cool ties; knee-length soft brown leather boots that surely cost three months of magazine worker salary. I did my shitty gig & left. Lesson?
Culture was not for people who needed to work for a living. Ideas & art? They're for rich people, not you: we do it for love, & if you have to ask about the cash --if you even mention it-- you probably aren't right for us. I'd never even heard of Bourdieu!
So solidarity with the @NewYorker Union, fuck the bosses, art is for everybody, give a living wage to your employees, pay your interns and their train fares. / end https://www.newyorkerunion.com/
