Should You Leave Your PhD Off Your Resume?

As you know, I've recently turned over a new leaf. Under the direction of my job coach Jeff, I've been leaving my PhD and MA off all my job applications. (It's not a lie, guys! It's "selective editing!") Which means that in the eyes of my would-be employers, I have a B.A. - and that's it.

You'd think this would have re-opened the can marked "Worms of Insecurity" in my old psychic pantry, but to be honest it's been kind of fun. It's like having a fresh start, except without having to move to Louisiana and bond with my great-grandmother or whatever the hell Reese Witherspoon does in movies where she has to "start over". Instead, I just have to pretend it is 2001. And while I may not want to revisit the peasant blouse or start dating angry Simpsons-quoting assholes again, I DO think I'll start ironically listening to Christina Aguilera on a Discman and thinking that "awesome" is an 80s word to be used sparingly and not, like the only word in the world. SERIOUSLY GUYS. We need to start saying some DIFFERENT SHIT.

Buoyed up by my dance-pop soundtrack, it's all the easier to recapture the main feature of my 2001 existence: the idea that I could do pretty much anything my little BA-getting heart desired. Do you see the trick here? When you force yourself to ignore your limitations - which in the case of ex-academics is too much education - you immediately feel less boxed-in by them. If you start thinking like you're 22 again...you start thinking like you're 22 again. I was enthusiastic back then, and that enthusiasm is still contagious. An internship in public policy? Bring it on. A magazine job in New York? Why not?

I may or may not actually get a job this way, but I'm starting to think that leaving the degrees off the old resume is more about getting a different perspective, about opening options. So for the time being, I'm 22, my whole life is ahead of me, and I'm going to do great things when I grow up. I regret nothing. I have only hope, excitement, and a discman full of songs I listen to not in spite of, but because I think they're stupid. Whatever happens, it's been nice to return to those happier, low-rise times - and I don't regret it. How could I? It's 2001, regret is for losers, and I am not a loser because I wear Campers.