The System Is Rigged: So Where Is the Reward?

We were sold a dream.

Work hard. Go to school. Get good grades. Get a degree. Get a job.

Pay your taxes. Be a good citizen. Stay out of trouble. Do the right thing.

And eventually, you will be rewarded.

You will have stability.

You will be able to afford a home.

You will be able to take care of yourself.

You will be able to save.

You will be able to pay your bills without constantly wondering which one has to wait until the next paycheck.

You will be okay.

At least, that's what we were told.

But I'm starting to wonder...

Where is the reward?

Because I did what I was told.

I went to college and earned my bachelor's degree.

Then I was told, "Oh, sorry. A bachelor's isn't enough. You need a master's degree."

So I got one.

Then I got another.

Because apparently, one master's degree wasn't enough either.

Then came the next message:

"If you really want to be seen as an expert, you need a PhD."

So I got one.

And now?

Now I'm being told I'm overqualified.

Too educated.

Too experienced.

Too much.

Not the right fit.

And somehow, I'm still expected to figure out how to pay back the student loans I accumulated while following the exact path I was told would lead to financial stability.

Do you see the problem?

I didn't wake up one day and decide to collect degrees.

I believed the promise.

I believed that education would create opportunity.

I believed that investing in myself would eventually pay off.

I believed that if I worked hard enough, I would eventually have something to show for it.

And I did.

I have degrees.

Experience.

Knowledge.

Skills.

Credentials.

A career history.

A desire to contribute.

And yet I'm still sitting here wondering how I'm going to make sure the lights stay on.

That's the part nobody talks about.

We celebrate education.

We celebrate ambition.

We tell people to "level up."

We tell people to go back to school.

Get the certification.

Get the advanced degree.

Invest in yourself.

And then we act surprised when people are drowning in student loan debt, unable to find jobs that pay enough to justify the education they were encouraged to pursue.

We don't talk enough about what happens when the return on that investment never comes.

We don't talk enough about the psychological toll of constantly trying to prove that you are worthy of employment.

We don't talk about what it does to your confidence when you can meet, and sometimes exceed, the qualifications for a position and still can't get someone to give you an opportunity.

We don't talk about the shame.

The frustration.

The anger.

The fear.

The constant calculations.

Can I pay the electric bill?

Can I put gas in the car?

Can I buy groceries?

Can I afford my car insurance?

What about the utility bill?

What about the copay?

What about household necessities?

And yes...

What about pads and tampons?

Because those things don't stop being necessary just because your bank account says you can't afford them.

This is what financial insecurity looks like.

It's not always someone sitting on the street.

Sometimes it's the person with multiple degrees sitting at home refreshing their email, hoping that today will finally be the day someone says, "We want you."

Sometimes it's the person with a professional title who is quietly deciding which bill can be pushed another week.

Sometimes it's the person who looks successful on paper and is terrified about what happens if the next paycheck doesn't come.

We live in a country where one missed paycheck can completely change someone's ability to eat, drive to work, pay rent, or keep the lights on.

And yet we continue to tell people:

"Just work harder."

How much harder?

Because some of us are exhausted.

We have worked.

We have studied.

We have sacrificed.

We have taken on debt.

We have followed the rules.

We have paid taxes.

We have tried to be responsible.

And somehow, the finish line keeps moving.

Get the bachelor's.

Now get the master's.

Get experience.

Now get more experience.

Get the doctorate.

Now you're overqualified.

Ask for a living wage.

Now you're asking for too much.

Take an entry-level position.

Now you're told you're not the right fit because your experience doesn't align.

So what exactly are we supposed to do?

At some point, we have to stop pretending that individual effort is the only factor determining whether someone succeeds.

Because systems matter.

And opportunity matters.

You can do everything "right" and still struggle.

That doesn't mean you failed.

It means the equation was never as simple as we were taught.

And for Black women, there is another layer to this conversation.

We have spent generations being told to be resilient.

Be strong.

Work twice as hard.

Show up early.

Stay late.

Get the education.

Prove yourself.

Don't complain.

Don't be difficult.

Don't be angry.

Don't make people uncomfortable.

And somehow, after doing all of that, we're still expected to be grateful for whatever we are given. I'm tired of that narrative.

I want us to stop blaming ourselves for systems that were never designed to be as simple as "work hard and you'll be rewarded."

Because sometimes the problem isn't that you didn't work hard enough.

Sometimes the problem is that the system is rigged.

And admitting that doesn't mean giving up.

It means telling the truth.

Maybe telling the truth is where we start demanding something different.