By Allie Larson
Editor’s Note: Allie Larson is a 21-year-old Idahoan who recently graduated from Boise State University with a degree in business administration and a minor in nonprofit management. With all the coverage of “housing crises” and “labor shortages,” we felt some firsthand observations of someone looking for a career job and a new place to live were in order.
It’s supposed to be the most exciting time of my life—the summer after my graduation from university. It should be a time to backpack Europe or hike the islands of Hawaii before launching full force into my independent adulthood and professional career. But … I need to find a way out of my parents’ basement first.
Let me be clear: I do not actually live in my parents’ basement. I live in my childhood bedroom, under the roof of a modest suburban four-bedroom home you could purchase for just $100,000 two decades or so ago and start building that “generational wealth” we Americans are supposed to get to do.
I’m not complaining; I love my parents. It’s just that I didn’t plan on spending adulthood living with them. And I’m not even freeloading! I pay my own bills—well, except for rent—and for meals and laundry and cleaning we all pretty much fend for ourselves these days, especially ever since my brother moved out. Lucky guy.
My folks get it. Things are not the same today as they were for them at this stage of their life. They understand when there’s all this talk about a “labor shortage” it’s not necessarily for jobs in business administration—the subject of my bachelor’s degree. The open positions are abundant and paying better than ever in fast-food restaurants, pubs and hotels. That’s great for some, but they’re not exactly the jobs I spent four years and $30,000 in student loans going to school for.
Mom and Dad even realize that the only thing crazier than housing prices in Idaho right now are rental rates, if you can even find a place.
My parents even understood when, just a month ago, I decided against taking a paid internship, within the industry I had studied for! It just didn’t feel right. And while the “trust your gut” approach may not be the best way to get ahead of my financial challenges that lie ahead, trusting my instincts is something I’m willing to bank on for the long-term.
Nonetheless, looking back just one month after graduation, it has been a learning curve. Perhaps, even a culture shock of sorts. I’ve always excelled in school and in life outside of school. Naturally, I assumed as a college graduate with a prestigious degree I’d be able to find a position in no time. But now, at times, I feel what’s called “imposter syndrome”—doubting oneself, and feeling like a fraud. Or worse, that maybe the fraud was paying for a degree that isn’t yet paying off. And then there’s “FOMO”—fear of missing out, and that makes me look at my peers and the accomplishments they are making moving forward in their careers, even though I know in my gut that will not help me move forward, it will only halt my potential.
The objective truth is not all my peers have it all together, and most are handling the same difficulties that I am. Some of us are lucky enough to have connections and enough experience needed for the positions available today. I don’t necessarily know anyone couch surfing or unable to have a roof over their head, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. Most of my peers who don’t have a childhood home to live in as they figure out their lives are paying an excessive amount for rent to have a roof over their heads. They make it work, barely. Most have to have two jobs or several roommates—if they can fit.
So, to any fellow graduates reading this, know that it’s more than OK to still be living at your parents’ house after graduation. In fact, it’s a privilege, and something many families have done at other times in our history. We will struggle, but we will also find the path that brings us joy and quality of life. And how lucky we are when that path is one that can start at the front door of our childhood home.
Lastly, to the parents of fellow graduates who I’m sure wanted to be experiencing the “empty nest syndrome” a little earlier in life, you may find yourselves on the opposite end of a housing crisis and labor shortage one day later in life. The kind that happens in hospitals and retirement homes sometimes. May your kindness, generosity and sacrifice be returned to you tenfold when that day comes, offered to you by the same kids you say “sleep tight” to tonight.