Richard Ocejo critically reflects on the rise of the creative class within today’s “new economy,” comprised of “knowledge-, creativity-, and technology-based jobs for well-educated and culturally savvy workers, [who] wanted to bartend, in spite of their other job options, and, in some cases, the expectations their families had for them” (xvii). Specifically, Ocejo looks at bartenders, butchers, barbers and distillers in New York City in an attempt to understand a new cultural phenomenon: upwardly-mobile, educated twenty-somethings who opt for traditionally working class jobs. This new workforce, as we discussed in class, is often over-educated for the jobs they choose. Does this mean that with our Bowdoin education, we shouldn’t have jobs that we’re overqualified for? Are we “taking” those jobs away from someone else? And the large-picture question is: does this mean we’re appropriating working class jobs, and is that a problem?
In class, we discussed friends who graduate who find various service jobs, while they live as artists on the side. We then asked—is this bad? Should we just become lawyers instead? There’s a difference between not maximizing your “potential” by selecting a job that you’re overqualified for, and what Ocejo deems “upscaling” a job, which is “ascribing an exclusive status on them based on a new cultural understanding of how professionals in these fields should work (xviii). Essentially, this notion is similar to gentrification of the workplace. When young, educated, workers with cultural capital, as Ocejo describes them, attain jobs that are traditionally skill-specialized, service jobs, they change the cultural understanding of these jobs. This phenomenon also occurs within gentrifying neighborhoods.
This narrative feels very familiar to me, especially with respect to my peers at Bowdoin in search for jobs that defy the expected trajectory of high-paying desk jobs in consulting or technology. The reason that I’m particularly engaged with Ocejo’s analysis of the creative class is because it feels deeply personal. His critical questioning of our generation has really forced me to confront my values, why they exist, and why I’m so drawn to become an artist, or a barista, or a waitress in my short-term future (to name a few jobs that I’ve floated as temporary career paths). Is it a resistance identity, in some way, to choose a more skill-specific, light manufacturing job over the jobs that Career Planning encourages us to pursue? Partially, I think yes. This notion of choosing “light manufacturing” jobs illustrates the shifting value of “cultural omnivores,” in opposition to more overtly classed cultural tastes of previous generations.
Further, is the notion of a cultural omnivore problematic? On one hand, the cultural omnivore embraces cultural tastes of all kind, embracing qualities of both low and high culture. However, cultural omnivores also exist within a certain realm of privilege – they have the cultural capital that allows them to be able to embrace “low” culture, instead of relying on high culture as a class signifier. When applied within the context of upscaling jobs, cultural omnivores have the privilege to be able to opt for “light manufacturing” jobs, as opposed to jobs that may be more financially viable. They have security of their cultural capital and education to choose jobs that align more with their passions, like bartending or distilling, and even change the cultural value of that type of hands-on work.
I also feel a personal connection to this discussion. One appealing aspect of not working a desk job, but instead working in night life, light manufacturing or the fashion world is the ability to be a part of the creation of culture. Consignment shops/thrift stores are another service that the creative class/cultural omnivore has re-popularized and “upscaled”.
There’s one particular spot in Portland that I often visited this summer that I found really dope. I would like to consider working at a place like this, and/or bartending on the side in my immediate time after Bowdoin rather than working in a depressingly unsatisfying desk job — but I’d probably never do it. It’s amazing how many alumni I’ve spoken to who are very unhappy with their jobs 1-3 years out of college, yet I still find myself gravitating toward the same path based off expectations and my qualification to navigate the spaces.
Though the cultural omnivore is problematic, I think it’s a step toward a better future. I wonder how people might react to the opposite scenario: under qualified individuals going into roles/enjoying activities which are normally reserved for elites. Especially in terms of work, I don’t think it would be to hard for “under qualified” people to step into many of the roles that are currently reserved for college graduates. Like most issues relating to class division, it seems to be more a question of access rather than ability.
I am also very intrigued by Ocejo’s work and our class discussion of the creative class “upscaling” jobs. On one hand, I do see the problematic nature of gentrifying the work place and how this can have larger negative effects on neighborhoods as whole. However, I’m inclined to argue that just because someone has had the opportunity to receive an education, why should they be criticized for pursuing their passion, exploring new industries, or prioritizing quality of life over a high income and traditional status markers?
One argument that was brought up in class discussed how the formation and increasing popularity of craft distilleries, butchers, barbers, baristas, and bartenders still cater to a certain portion of the population. Theoretically, these businesses wouldn’t phase out the more traditional, affordable businesses in the same industry because the two cater to different populations. While different individuals may have differing conclusions about the value/effects of this division, it has always been present, but is now transforming. This leads me to agree with Justin that the increasing acceptance of a wide range of cultures and forms of entertainment is a positive thing. While there are definite issues with the ways in which these creative class consumption patterns can cause residential displacement, I don’t think the blame should be put on the individuals who chooses a career that is not traditionally “for them.” I think there are larger systemic issues which contribute to the class inequality and residential segregation that underlies these urban patterns. Lastly, many workers in these industries would argue that their work is a form of art requiring their individual vision, and that it is not simple labor that could be performed without their education and personal background.
I agree with both of you — I think that the notion of a cultural omnivore is positive on the whole. This was interesting to me at first because it really does express a shift in cultural values that we may see as wholeheartedly progressive, but still need to remain critical of. You’re definitely right to argue that the blame should not be put on the individuals. I think the individuals are partly responsible, but this over-qualification of artisanal perhaps once working class jobs does reflect larger systemic issues of classed work and privilege.
But, I’m still curious about what makes jobs desirable — why craft beer distilling? Or hair cutting? It seems like these typical jobs have a new cultural value that has changed how they are appreciated, in a way that does upscale them. This feels distinct from the situation in which under-qualified individuals attain traditionally elite jobs, in that there is less of power dynamic at play.