Will work for free, pay for it, too

Unemployment is the lowest it’s been since 2009. The economy’s downward spiral has stopped spinning out of control. So why, I ask, is it so difficult to find unpaid work?

I hear it all the time: “You’re still in college, you don’t need to worry about the job market yet.”

But I think we all know that isn’t true — now is the time to get the experience and connections we’ll need to get full-time jobs post-graduation.

I can’t speak for everyone, but I think I share the same inner monologue as many UNC students: Please, please, let me work for you for free.

It’s July. I’ve gotten over feeling ridiculous when I admit that I applied for 45 summer internships. Of that list, I think a whole three were paid — minimum wage, that is.

And the sad reality is that having an internship on our resume has become of the utmost importance for the majority of career paths.

My mom said when she was in college, internships didn’t even really exist.

Can you believe that?

That is definitely something I struggle with — especially when I realize … wait a second — I’m paying to work for free.

I could be spending my summer teaching swimming lessons, like I did in high school. I could be walking away from the season with a net gain of a few thousand dollars to put toward tuition and loans.

Instead, I’m paying nearly $400 a month to commute an hour and a half each way to and from Manhattan every day.

I’m fortunate enough to live with my parents over the summer, but without that luxury, the cost of an unpaid internship would make the experience virtually inaccessible.

Then there’s food, the subway and incidentals to pay for — all of which pale in comparison to the cost of rent.

So this is us: broke college students, working full-time with little to no income and certainly no time for an additional paid job, paying for rent, food and transportation while clinging to the hope that the effort will earn us a spot above the poverty line in the workforce when we leave Chapel Hill.

And that’s just for the summer. Let’s not forget the ever-rising cost of tuition and living at school.

All of that to maybe — just maybe — be able to afford a one-bedroom in Queens with four roommates, living on Saltines and peanut butter until I’m lucky enough to get a real job two years from now.

I am an intern, trying to set up an eventual career for myself in New York City. This is not the first time I’ve asked myself if all the money down the drain will pay off — but will it?

There’s one redeeming thought that keeps all of us poor interns going: While not in monetary funds, in experience, we are filthy, stinking rich.

As for whether it’s all worth it, I’ll have to let you know.