These pages are all about the jump-start:  the realization and revelation of the good, bad, hilarious and ugly realities of our post-graduate lives -- and of the inspiration for new ones that will ultimately emerge between the cracks.

The Lattice Group is determined to tackle issues of work/life balance without propagating any single idealized solution beyond communication.  This, to my mind, is a critical point; and one which, as the fledgling notions behind this Journal began to take on a tangible shape, came to constitute an editorial philosophy.  Unbridled, subjective, interactive authenticity:  what better antithesis could there possibly be to the imposed limitations of the status quo? What better venue for voicing that authenticity than an internationally accessible forum wherein each creative process, as much as its product, is of primary value?

 
Sam G. Jeatz

I don’t like talking about Investment Banking.  It’s hard to describe this job without sounding engrossed in money - which is to say, without sounding like a complete ass.  And my ability to opine eloquently and subjectively on my job is complicated by the fact that I find it hard to talk about my day-to-day routine without shaking my head and quietly crying (inside).

Anonymous

I'm twenty-two years old, and if you asked me what I want more than anything else in the world, I would tell you honestly, "A baby."

Unless you happened to be my PhD advisor. Or one of my fellow graduates of an elite liberal arts college. Or my parents.

Twenty-two year olds—twenty-two year olds who are women of color, who graduated from top-10 colleges as president of the student body and winner of the neuroscience thesis prize, who entered doctoral programs on prestigious fellowships immediately after college, who are poised to have PhDs at the age of 26– are not supposed to want babies.

Filip Odqvist

While men might fear hiring a woman, a lot of us fear even more the prospect of getting hired by a woman. The hesitation to hire might bear some perceived rational reasoning including the potential “loss” of an employee should the woman become pregnant. All the time, effort, and (most importantly) money put in to her training would go to waste! In comparison to the prospect of working FOR a woman, however, these “losses” seem trifling. Such a scenario would be emasculating, not to mention bad for business. For as we all know, women are not only indecisive and powerless, but their emotional attachment to projects inhibits them from effectively evaluating problems.

Jordan Nassar 

When I traveled to Tokyo for my semester abroad, I didn’t think that I’d be sipping on cocktails at a club while watching some American or European brand of DJ, each friend around me dressed crazier than the next, bumping and grinding and chain-smoking cigarettes. Looking around, I realized that Tokyo, albeit across the world, is essentially the same as New York or LA.  It was easy to settle right in, and I made a life for myself thousands of miles away while feeling right at home.

James Lucas

Every hour the doormen switch from the front door to the back gate, where there are fewer IDs to check. Most patrons come in through the front on Shattuck while the waiters, runners, and bartenders go for their cigarette breaks out on the back alley of Allston. The Jupiter's employees neurotically inhale coffin nails as I play solitaire on my IPod, shuffling through most of the deals, only accepting a quarter. An ace or two with an even mix of black and red cards must show up before I start; if you're gonna play with yourself you better have a good hand.

Sarah Heyward 

The door.  This is where we enter in the morning, having left behind our lovers in their beds, our husbands and wives, our sick children, our aging parents, our stoned roommates, and our one night stands.  This is where we leave in the evening, those last fifteen minutes before six o’clock moving like molasses, I swear I actually saw the minute hand go backwards once, and finally it’s time but still we wait, an extra minute, or two, or ten, until another person—an intern, an assistant—makes a move to gather her things, casually to glance at the clock as if the thought is just occurring to her: Oh, I really should be heading home now.  And then one by one we all rise, shake the day from our shoulders, walk slowly to the door. Beyond which we are free.

Aysegul Savas 

It is almost two months since I moved in with my boyfriend in California. That’s the good news. The bad news is that I’m still unemployed. I am a recent college graduate from Turkey whose permit to stay in the country started two months ago. My family wanted me in New York with my brother, rather than in California with my boyfriend – and the only good excuse I could come up with that might make them feel a little better about the situation was that there would surely be a fantastic job waiting for me in Cali.  If the draconian implications of my unemployment do not hit you in the face immediately, just hear me out. After a fruitless summer of very little work and an even smaller budget, I flew to Palo Alto, California, and decided that it was time to look for jobs.