I’ve always had trouble with the inevitable “So what do you do?” question that pervades small-talk-filled introductions that follow meeting someone new.
What do I do?
And what exactly does that mean?
With holiday and New Year’s parties filling up many of our calendars as of late, it likely hasn’t been long since many of you have been asked this question yourselves.
In most cases, it goes without saying that the underlying question directly pertains to what we do for work. But what I’m the most curious about is why?
Why is so much of who we are tied to what it is that we do to make money?
I think it raises an interesting question about identity and the ways in which we perceive ourselves.
For some, taking a question about what one does as an invitation to discuss how one makes a living is a perfectly natural direction to take a first conversation. Many identify a great deal with what they do for work and it takes most a great deal of time out of their schedule to finish a day at the job. Considering how much schooling it often takes to get into a given career, it also follows that many would feel a sense of pride in their occupation, as it took, in some cases, years of effort to achieve.
To be asked what one does is a chance to tell all those work stories that have been kept in the back pocket, patiently waiting their chance for such an opportunity.
However, for others, a question like “What do you do?” falls into an odd category of small talk that can occasionally do more harm than good.
For someone in that position, it may feel as though they are being reduced to the thing they do simply to pay the bills, which in many cases, is not even remotely what that person identifies themselves by.
And to a person like that, such a question also runs the risk of feeling like more of an interrogation of status, and less of a genuine curiosity towards their profession. It has the potential to come across as a not-so-thinly-veiled attempt to discover how much income a person earns, swiftly turning the conversation into a petty competition of prestige.
What was likely intended to come across as pleasantries and small talk quickly develops into a philosophical nightmare to attempt to navigate through, leaving people feeling boxed in by their profession, forced to associate themselves with a label that they might not feel all that attached to in the first place.
Many don’t chase their careers. They end up backed into a few options, limited by what’s nearby, what they’re qualified for, or any other number of factors that are, in some cases, entirely out of their control.
It naturally follows then that someone in a situation like this would not exactly self-ascribe a label that originates from their occupation.
Maybe they would much rather associate themselves with a title that comes from the hobby from which they feel the most fulfillment.
Maybe instead, they would prefer to give themself a label that relates more to a position they hold in their family.
In any case, these are all things that we do. Who is to say that our work, that is, the ways that we bring in money, has to define us?
This is all a fairly roundabout way of saying that I believe it is an exercise worth indulging in to introduce yourself to someone new, adopting a label or title that speaks solely to the thing in life that brings you the most fulfilment, rather than simply defaulting to either what takes up the majority of your time, or what you do to bring in the paycheck at the end of the week.
It will likely feel awkward at first, like a shoe that doesn’t fit.
That’s normal.
You’re pushing against the status quo—an unwritten rule that says that we must identify ourselves in a way that conforms to our roles in society.
But I believe you cannot simply be defined by your contributions to the economy.
You are much more well-rounded than that, and it’s perfectly okay to let those other aspects of ourselves get the limelight from time to time.
Oh, and if you’re ever on the receiving end of hearing someone introduce themselves by way of mentioning a hobby, a pastime, or anything besides their literal professional, really, humour them. They might just be trying it on for size.
I’ll leave you here with a few journaling prompts for those who want to do a bit of guided thinking around this topic:
Reflect on your own experiences with the question "What do you do?" How do you typically respond to this question, and why?
Reflect on times when you've felt uncomfortable or boxed in by the expectation to identify yourself by your job. How did you handle these situations, and what insights did you gain?
Imagine introducing yourself to someone new using a label or title that speaks solely to what brings you the most fulfillment in life, regardless of your profession. How does it feel to adopt this perspective?
With all that off my chest, I’d love to hear if any of you decide to try this out, or if you’ve ever tried this exercise before.
I’ll be waiting to hear about any of your insights in the email replies and the comments below.
For now, have a good week, and I’ll see you at 100.
I always viewed the small talk thing sort of like coming over to someone's house. Some people might enjoy you climbing the side of the house and jumping through a window but it's probably safer to just knock, come in the front door, take your shoes off, etc. Eventually you'll get to the meaningful stuff if you both want to.
After reading your post I can see how the "what do you do" question could mess with people. It also brings up self confidence to me. If you feel you're not where you should be/want to be in life, it could be depressing saying you work somewhere like Starbucks or something. I've had that problem in my life myself though not as much lately.
As for the question and how I introduce myself. I usually just list off a bunch of stuff and they can pick whatever interests them or nothing at all, lol.
"I work part-time at Starbucks, Indigo, used to do art professionally, compose music for fun, (used to be) into fitness, and spend a lot of time hanging out/taking care of my friends kid."