Robyn Richardson slumps in her seat after a long day of work at a job she detests but is thankful for.Richardson explains how both her parents simply slid into their jobs out of college. Jobs they loved, while her post-college life has not been so easy.
"It's been extremely hard since I graduated to find the kind of job I thought I could get with a bachelor's degree," said Richardson,, a 2004 TCU graduate and now employee for Child Protective Services. "I didn't see this coming."
The lectern at the front of Allison Nickel's freshman high school math class often stood empty. Nickel's teacher, Susan Boyd, was busy showing her students that math could be fun. Boyd's official teaching position seemed to be in the corner of the room - at her piano. It was there, at Abilene High School, where she often sat to teach algebra equations she set to the tune of well-known melodies. Nickel's favorite was the quadratic equation sung to "Pop Goes the Weasel."
In the back of a small floral shop on University Drive, four employees, three who commute to Fort Worth from surrounding cities, sat around a table of half-arranged bouquets. One woman, Judy Prater, looked up and said among nods from the other three, "There are lots of sacrifices, some I won't even admit." This circle of wage-earning women picked at their lunches, which they now bring to work, with frowns on their faces as they explained the effects of rising gas prices on their jobs and their lives.