The day after Christmas, I awoke to an additional gift in my inbox. I had to read the email several times: “Congratulations! The U.S. Department of Education has forgiven your federal student loans as you successfully met the requirements of the Public Service Loan Forgiveness program. Thank you for your public service!”
The government issued “thank you” was almost as surprising as the fact that they were actually forgiven. My loans were eligible for forgiveness thanks to a change from the Biden istration that counted my deferred years as payments. I rushed to get in my application before the next istration takes office. What remained of my loan, $15,000, wasn’t astronomical, but getting rid of my $200 monthly payment certainly helps me save for the future.
My parents, both public school educators, took out significant loans to pay for my college tuition (those have not been forgiven). I took out loans to cover my room and board and I worked multiple jobs to pay for books and other expenses. Seeing the financial burden my education had on my family, I took extra classes and finished my bachelor’s degree in three years. With a degree in psychology and minor in education, I entered the workforce fired up about social justice and giving back.
Since then, I’ve worked in a variety of roles at different organizations focused on serving marginalized people and communities — LGBTQ+ youth and adults, people living with HIV, and people experiencing homelessness. After a decade of working for nonprofits and in government, I’m reflecting on lessons learned.
For one, I’ve learned that people are professionally motivated by different things and that’s OK. Once I began working full-time, I saw many of my peers enter careers in tech, finance, or other for-profit fields. They started making good money and I watched as they traveled, bought homes, and started families. I saw them as selfish, greedy, and contributing to the machine of capitalism. I, on the other hand, was helping people and doing good in the world. It was easy to think of myself as high and mighty.
That type of thinking didn’t serve me, and I eventually realized that people are driven by different value systems, that not everyone views their job as a way to change the world. Some people just want to work a job, leave it at the office, and live their life. For me, I find meaning and purpose working towards a mission, for a cause or a vulnerable community. That doesn’t make me perfect or better than anyone else — it’s just the path I choose for my career. After all, what you do for work doesn’t define you.
However, what you do for work will come up in conversations. When you work in public service, be prepared to talk about it and have your elevator speech ready. Whenever an Uber driver, a distant family member, or new acquaintance asks what I do for work, I decide how much I want to share and how political I want to get. Telling someone you run an LGBTQ+ youth group, are an HIV test counselor, or work for a homeless services provider, will solicit a response. I have surface level responses ready and when I feel like it, I dig deeper and share more. Time and place are important and not every moment is right to discuss the injustices of the world, but every conversation is an opportunity to make an impactful connection.
Finally, I’ve learned that, even if you’re ionate about what you do, work is still work. Boundaries are important and you cannot give all of yourself to your job. I used to think that my value was just showing up, that giving all my time and saying yes to every opportunity at work was the best thing I could do. I’ve now learned that balance is essential because burnout is real. It’s better to focus on the things you’re best at and hone the skills only you can bring to the table.
For me, public service has strengthened my values, helped me communicate more effectively, and taught me boundaries. Public service has also taught me how to give back, build community, and it has helped me figure out who I want to be in the world. And for that invaluable education, I owe a debt of gratitude.
Renner is a communications professional and LGBTQ+ advocate. He lives in University Heights.
