Hate the Hustle, Not the Hustler

On compassion for the people

Photo by Kyle Glenn

American Dream

Meritocracy is a myth we can’t scrape 
from the soles of our shoes—
Have you heard her story? She pulled 
herself up by invisible bootstraps. 
Have you tried selling plasma? Harvesting 
your eggs?  Counting change to buy gas 
to deliver groceries for a fee? 
The perpetual hustle & grind to survive
as parents of hungry children pay taxes 
to bomb other children. And we the people, 
fatigued & frightened, our hopeful hearts 
flayed to a pulp. The sky so blue it burns.

Earlier this week, in an attempt to numb myself from the chaos of U.S. politics, I found myself doom-scrolling when I came across someone venting about how exhausted they were from being constantly “sold to.” At first, I nodded along. I get it — the endless churn of ads, influencers pushing diet elixirs and $400 sweaters — it’s a lot. But then they pivoted to criticizing individuals hustling to sell their own goods and services, and something in me flinched.

It hit a nerve, because I know that hustle intimately.

I’ve been working since I was sixteen. In my senior year of high school, I juggled three part-time jobs while carrying a full AP honors courseload. I’m not sharing this as some kind of grindset badge of honor — it nearly broke me. I finished high school wrung out and disillusioned, already deeply acquainted with burnout.

Since graduating college, I’ve always had a full-time job. And for almost all of the past seventeen years, I’ve also had a side hustle — or two or three — to help cover rent, bills, unexpected car repairs, you name it. Tutoring, babysitting, running a French-language summer camp, delivering groceries, selling plasma, pawning furniture, filling out paid surveys for extra cash. Nearly every friend I have in education, social work, or the arts has done some version of this. Not out of ambition or desire — but out of necessity.

This week, The New York Times published a piece on the thousands of working people in New York who, despite earning up to $50,000 a year, are living in shelters because they still can’t afford rent. And yet, we’re still fed the myth that if you just work hard enough — if you apply yourself, grind harder, sacrifice more — you’ll naturally rise. You’ll be rewarded. You’ll make it out. The American Dream is sold to us like a lottery ticket: statistically improbable, but dangled just close enough to keep most people playing.

We are both obsessed with and repelled by hustle. We revere the entrepreneur clocking 80-hour weeks if they wear a designer suit and have a blue checkmark — but we turn our noses up at the person holding down three minimum wage jobs to survive. We cheer for the former, call the latter desperate. Lazy, even. But let’s be clear: it’s the same grind. The same relentless, exhausting hustle — just in different packaging.

I’m incredibly lucky that in the last few years, I’ve been able to pivot some of my energy toward writing. It doesn’t pay the bills — not fully — but it pays some, and that’s not nothing. For the first time, the work that feeds my soul also helps feed my family. That feels miraculous in a culture that has taught us to separate art from labor, creativity from compensation.

So when I see someone selling earrings they made by hand, or offering coaching, or launching a poetry Patreon — I don’t roll my eyes. I see resilience. I see people finding ways to live in an economy that was never built for the many. I see people doing what they have to do to stay afloat in a system that’s quietly sinking.

Yes, it’s exhausting to be sold to all the time. But maybe we need to take a moment to differentiate between the corporations mining our data to sell us another thing we don’t need — and the neighbor just trying to make rent. Most of us are doing what we can to survive late-stage capitalism with our dignity intact. Let’s not let our collective frustration punch down.

Let’s remember who the real sellers are — and who’s just trying to stay alive.

P.S. If you enjoyed this essay, please click on the heart at the bottom or top of this e-mail. It helps others discover The Understory and brightens my day!

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Opportunities for Community & Connection

Photo by Reuben Teo

Women’s Hiking & Writing Retreat in the Scottish Highlands

The world feels heavy right now — but there’s something profoundly healing about gathering with women in nature. That’s what this retreat is for: reconnecting with yourself, your voice, and a community of kindred spirits. I’ve partnered with WHOA Travel to create a soulful, spacious experience in the Scottish Highlands, with daily hikes, generative writing workshops (no experience needed!), nourishing meals, and time to rest and reflect at Ballintean Mountain Lodge. May 9-14, 2026, and only 11 spots are available. If it calls to you, I hope you’ll join us. Full details and itinerary here:

Monthly Writing Circles

If you’re looking for a safe, communal writing space, our next writing circle is Thursday, April 17th at 7 PM CST. Every month, our Poetry as Medicine generative writing sessions offer a tender, open space to read and discuss the work of a specific poet, to write what needs to be expressed, and to share (if desired). These sessions are unrecorded for a reason—they are meant to be experienced in real time, together. These monthly sessions are a balm, a place of connection and vulnerability. They are open to all paid subscribers, and we would love to have you join us!

Below are the poets we’ll be exploring for the rest of this year:

Thursday, April 17th at 7 PM CST – Alberto Ríos

Tuesday, May 20th at 7 PM CST – Diane Seuss

Sunday, June 8th at 10 AM CST – Ilya Kaminsky

Sunday, July 20th at 7 PM CST - Danusha Lameris

Thursday, August 21st at 7 PM CST - Pádraig Ó Tuama

Monday, September 22nd at 7 PM CST - Maggie Smith

Sunday, October 26th at 10 AM CST - Danez Smith

Wednesday, November 12th at 7 PM CST - Naomi Shihab Nye

Tuesday, December 16th at 7 PM CST - Marie Howe