A primary school-aged Kat Bill was told by her grandpa, mother and father to find her passion and make it a career. In other words, "Do what you love, and the money will follow".
She took their advice, as many have over the decades.
But when housing now costs 10 times the average annual salary (compared to three times for older generations), rent has gone up 20 per cent, and , it may not be as empowering as it used to be.
Kat looks for the silver linings in her job as a prep chef. She didn't have to do the soul-searching, knowing from a young age wanted she wanted to be when she grew up. And she does love her job; she loves the team, the kitchen, and preparing the produce. Time passes quickly, and with a calm head chef, she stays fired up.
But when her apprentices ask her for career advice, she isn't as idealistic as her family once was.
"I always tell them to chase the money. I know it's sending a few of my apprentices away from me, but honestly, we need it to survive," she tells The Feed.
With her future kids, she'll tell them to be more pragmatic. "I want them to feel safe... to do something more sensible like accounting or [being a] physician."
When she was an apprentice, receiving a paycheck of $350 per week and putting aside $200 for rent, she struggled to pay for necessities.
"Suddenly phone, electricity and transport are all priorities, and you just hope you can pinch a few snacks at work."
Kat said she grew up without much and is now used to it at the age of 33.
She's also been cutting costs: eating out and driving less, anticipating a higher cost of living. But she sees inflation really affecting the hospitality industry.
Produce and electricity is more expensive and customers are being “classed out” of venues.
At the moment, she's financially okay, but she does have regrets about chasing her dreams and following the advice.
"I do still live in share housing," she said. It’s the trade-off she accepts for being financially stable.
The main reason Kat wanted to be a chef was to create and innovate. But when bosses are all about the bottom line, it can "take away the creativity in most workplaces."
She said the industry is also male-centric (a 3:1 ratio of men to women, according to ABS figures), kitchens can reach temperatures of 50C, she's on her feet all day, some days are long and "you rarely have someone trained to fill your position".
For Kat, the bubble has burst, and for other people chasing dreams in the arts and hospitality sector - where earnings are typically below the weekly average ($1,650) - they're also shunning the advice.
Is ‘doing what you love’ advice for an era gone by?
In this June quarter, households across the country were hit by the largest increase in the cost of living since 1999, according to new data from the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS).
This jump was felt most by working households. Since the pandemic, more people are working multiple jobs (up 2 per cent in the first quarter of this year), and young workers are most likely to be those people.
In times like these, Kat feels more strongly than ever that the advice is flawed.
"For me, it's 'do what you love in your spare time,’" she says, stressing the last two words.
Gina Bell, a career counsellor who has consulted with hundreds of people over 12 years, said Australians aren't really getting enough consultation at the beginning of their careers.
"The blanket statement doesn’t take into account which markets are growing, the economy, other things around the world."
She says HECS debts aren't being spoken about early on - and that different choices might be made if people better understood what they were in for.
“Unfortunately, career development gets a bad rap because people had bad experiences, perhaps in a school environment.”
Ultimately, she said better career advice would fuel productivity and economic growth.
"At the end of the day, if we have people who love what they do … we all win," she said.
"Economic productivity goes up."
The financial viability of doing what you love depends on what you love to do
The idea of chasing your career dreams "is very privileged,” says Kate, a 35-year-old social worker. She likes her job; it plays to her strengths, and it pays the bills. When her parents separated, they told her to strive for financial freedom.
If she had been given different advice, though, she might have been a train conductor.
"Do what you love; the money will follow. I mean, great, but if it doesn't, you better have someone bankrolling your failures."
For her, deciding to accept student debt was a calculated investment.
"This degree will pay itself off because I can work in a variety of different settings and make above minimum wage," she said.
Kate says doing what you love is a privilege many can't afford. Source: Supplied
"Obviously, we all want to be free of the rat race or free to make some of those decisions and go out on a whim and take risks and not just be beholden to survival."
Kate says the idea that you'll love your job every day is also a "stupid thing to sell people".
"So many things that people love aren't conducive to capitalism."
It's also a lot of pressure, especially for young people, she adds.
"It’s alright to only love the money a job gives you so you can fund the things that fulfil you on the side," she said.
"Most of the things we truly love can’t be turned into jobs anyway, nor should they."
