Lit Major? That's nice.

Dear potential proteges,

I was talking to a new coworker today and he asked me what I was studying. When I said, "Writing!" he blinked at me for a few seconds like that was the first time he had ever heard the word.

When I first began applying to colleges, I looked at what skills and passions I could translate into a major.

One of my good friends was going to study mechanical engineering. I thought, “Hey! I can do derivatives.” But then I learned about integrals and double variable integrals and I realized that if I don’t know what mechanical engineers even do and if I can’t even function a graphing calculator without slamming it on my desk, then maybe engineering isn’t the right track.

Another classmate of mine was studying human biology. Well, I liked biology in high school. Meiosis, mitosis! But physics? Organic chemistry? Why do I have to study that? I think not.

After exhausting numerous general catalogs and taking multiple personality and career aptitude tests (apparently I would be an excellent drama school teacher) I remembered that I have always loved to read. And writing has been second nature since I could grasp a pencil.

There it was right in front of me! A literature and writing major!

Then I finally understood why it was called “declaring” a major instead of “choosing” or “picking”. Because once I became a literature major I had officially declared myself a particular type of person.

For instance, did you know that all literature majors will never make any money? I have had countless awkward conversations with distant relatives about this very prospect. According to an estranged aunt from Texas, I am doomed to write the paragraphs found on the backs of novels. Also, I will be forced to remove misplaced periods and semicolons from articles in local magazines about fruit mold or freeway additions until I retire. No offense meant to anyone who holds these positions, but they do not hold up well against entire families of engineers and doctors. Many phone calls have ended with, “Oh, lit major. That’s nice.”

Also, I have read every single book registered in the Library of Congress. If a Jeopardy category has the words “literature” or “fiction” or “book” in it, then I am obviously the expert. How dare I not know what city Hemingway was born? I’m a lit major! What? I don’t remember how many scenes are in the second act of Romeo and Juliet? But I’m a lit major! Wait, I can’t remember if it is alumnus or alumna or alumni? Come on, lit major!

But I think my favorite part about being a literature major is that whenever I use a word longer than three syllables someone has to roll their eyes and groan, “lit major!” This is true, even if, in most cases, they know what the word means. For example, we were watching an interview on television and I said that the man was very ostentatious. Right away, my best friend said, “Okay, lit major!” Also, if they’re shorter words but the person I am speaking to doesn’t know what they mean, then I am obviously a literature major. I was joking with this same friend and I mentioned the word “smite”. She looked at me with a blank expression and said, “Gosh, lit major!”

I suppose as far as stereotypes go, working a boring under-paid job, being well-read, and having a large vocabulary aren’t so bad. But if I hear, “You made a typo. Aren’t you a lit major?” one more time, I think I’ll go into a diatribe.

Signed,
Prudy