What Don’t You Do?
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You walk into a cocktail party. People are mingling, sipping champagne, nibbling little bites, uttering pleasantries. Eye contact is friendly, but fleeting. Before you know it, you are in the mix. Talking to people you don’t know. Trading vital statistics. First, you play that well-worn name game. And then someone asks you that question. That question you are asked all of the time. That question with which our society is curiously obsessed.
“What do you do?”
And faced with that simple question, you pause. You search. You’ve had plenty of practice answering this one. And yet. Your answer comes out in uncertain fragments. Well, I am writing now. But I am a lawyer. Not practicing though. And I have two young kids. And they keep me plenty busy. I am happy to be flexible. Your answer is an honest, scattered, non-linear mess that elicits sympathetic nods from coiffed listeners. You vow to work on the answer to this question.
But then you realize something as you are silently berating yourself for not honing your reply. You realize that there is another question. One that no one ever asks. One that would perhaps reveal more, far more, than the one everyone does ask.
What Don’t You Do?
You allow yourself to imagine what would happen if this was the question asked in the throes of awkward social collision. You envision how people would react. How you would. You imagine someone asking you this deeper, more daring question and you realize that this time, the answers would flow freely.
I don’t drive.
I don’t clean.
I don’t cook.
I don’t bake.
I don’t swear.
I don’t drink beer.
I don’t rock climb.
I don’t eat whole fish.
I don’t travel.
I don’t go to Broadway shows.
The list goes on an on if you let it. And maybe you do. You realize that you can tell a lot more about a person by what they don’t do, by what they avoid, purposefully or no, then by what they do do (or say they do). You realize that next time, at the next civilized adult affair, when people float about insecurely trading cheek kisses and artful BS, you will ask this question. And you will take note of the surprise splashed on strange faces, the temporary wash of confusion, and the answers that come.
And then you realize that you can’t wait for the next soiree to ask this question. You don’t want to. You want to ask it now. You want to see what it unearths.
And so you do.
What don’t you do?
Since shifting my life from worker bee in a big corporation to owning my own business, I’ve run into this a lot. How do you define yourself in a few seconds, to someone who probably doesn’t matter to you? And yet, it does matter – it matters to YOU. I like the idea of What Don’t You Do? That’s what really makes us different and interesting. Because most of us do the same things. After all, work is work. Play is play. It’s what we do (and don’t do!) between that makes us who we are.
I haven’t been hit with the “what do you do” question since leaving the law for my stay at home mom promotion. I need to come up with my answer asap! As for what I *don’t* do? The only thing I can come up with is:
I don’t try new things.
It’s incredibly accurate, but it makes me sound conservative (little “c”) and boring! Yikers.
I think it says so much about our society not that people are obsessed with asking this question, but that there is such a narrow range of “acceptable” answers.
I don’t struggle with this one because I have a conventional career which provides me with a pat answer that allows people to comfortably nod and take their next sip of wine without any awkward pauses. But you should be able to do the same. You should be able to say, “I’m a writer, a wife, a mother, and a blogger.” And you should be able to do that without feeling like you owe strangers any explanation over your life’s path and career choices.
I hope that after your book is published you will feel more at liberty to say with authority, “I am a writer.” You won’t be any more a writer then than you are now – LIFE AFTER YES is already written. But perhaps such a response will feel more authentic with a book on shelves. In the meantime I would encourage you to adopt that response now and offer it with gusto. Your book sold and is coming out in mere months. You’ve earned it.
PS – Why don’t you travel?
1. Great premise.
2. I’ve always loved a scattered, non-linear mess.
3. I also love abstract art (and abstract thought).
4. I don’t:
(a) clean
(b) live a traditional life
(c) stop parenting (regardless of age of kids)
(d) stop writing
(e) stop dreaming
What does it say about me that it’s easier for me to answer what I don’t do than what I do?
1) I don’t get in trouble.
and
2) I don’t take orders.
I’ve been asked before (perhaps after being late for an event with a date or doing something incorrectly), “Did you get into trouble?”
My response is always the same, “No. I don’t get in trouble. I’m an adult.” I apologize for mistakes and move on.
I detest when people tell me to do something casually. “Come here.” “Read this.” “Watch this.” “If you go there, do this.” Etc. I love kind suggestions. But if phrased in the form of an order? It will get my back up.
Oh, and I also do not talk to myself.
-R.
Wow. I LOVE this idea.
I too have struggled with this since leaving a powerful IT position, staying home with the kids and now back to work as… well… that’s what’s tough. In my new position, I do EVERYTHING. The question should be, “what don’t I do?”
I don’t sit down.
I don’t stop thinking.
I don’t miss out on the opportunities to hug my children.
I don’t hate my ex-husband.
I love it. The list could go on and on.
I hear you on this one. I personally hate that question, as if we can define people only by their profession. I once overheard someone being asked that question at a party, and they responded, “What do I do WHEN?” I thought that was great. It’s a hard question for me to answer these days, and it goes something like yours: “Well, I am writing now. But I am a counselor. Not practicing though. But I keep plenty busy through volunteer work. And I cook a lot. And I like it.” But I get the plaster nod/smile a lot when I say that.
I don’t..
1. Give up.
2. Ever take a moment for granted with my children.
I think you have the perfect answer to that question: “I’m a writer; my first book is coming out in the spring” !
But I do agree that it’s an awful question. People only ask to continue the small talk going, they rarely are actually that interested, and it creates an awkward moment for so many people who don’t know how to answer.
Even minus the awkward, I hate that kind of party talk anyway. There are so many more important — and interesting — things about us than our jobs.
Some things I don’t do: watch fox news, run except for survival, choose frozen yogurt over ice cream, eat the last cookie in the box.
i don’t clean our toilets.
i don’t cook from scratch.
i don’t have a period anymore (thank you mirena).
i don’t use capital letters when i type.
i don’t mind changing poopy diapers.
i don’t spend enough time taking care of me.
I too hate the “what do you do?” question — it forces someone to define who they are using far too few words. Unfortunately, I often hear myself asking it. Now I have a better question. Thanks Aidan.
So on to the “assignment.” What I don’t do:
- I don’t take compliments well
- I don’t appreciate myself enough
- I don’t share my feelings with those close to me
- I don’t clean (much)
- I don’t get pedicures (although I do them myself)
- I don’t do things spontaneously
- I don’t have much will power with food or wine
Like this question and can’t wait to try it out. Maybe someone will invite me to a party.
I don’t get as much done as people think I do.
I don’t try new foods.
I don’t forward chain emails.
I don’t garden.
I don’t swoon over puppies.
I don’t fly by the seat of my pants.
I think people view it as a bad question because they see it as narrow, defining, not encompassing who you are as a person. But in America we are unique in the extent to which we can choose our careers and our career paths; and those choices do define us. So it’s not so irrelevant, because when you say, “I’m a writer” you mean, “I’ve chosen to be a writer because I like using those skills, living that lifestyle, I value that freedom”, whatever. Not the same as, “My father’s father went to Ecole Polytech, so I was expected to, so I’m an engineer.” What you do means something. It gives people insight into what you value, which is as good a way to start a conversation as any. Better than most.
when people ask me what i do, i often say “as a career or just in my life?” cause not everyone means what we do for a job/career. some people want to know more. and it’s narrow minded of us to assume they mean as a job/career. you don’t have to answer what you do for a job/career. you can answer what you do. in life.
what i do:
-sew
-yoga
-read
-hang out with kids
-zumba
-knit
-meditate
-read blogs
-hang with friends……
this also tells others a lot about us.