There’s a long-held belief that great art requires suffering. One genre where this perception is especially prominent is blues music. Rooted in the African American experience, the blues is known for its emotional intensity, blue notes, and repeating chord structures, often conveying themes of physical, emotional, or psychological hardship.
Given these origins, one might ask: Is this music best performed by those who have endured pain and suffering?
Undoubtedly, many early African American blues musicians faced extreme poverty, racism, and violence, particularly in the Jim Crow South. Legends like Robert Johnson, Lead Belly, Ma Rainey, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Son House variously endured poverty, prison, and backbreaking labor. Their music often drew directly from these harsh experiences.
But that doesn’t mean suffering is required to create great blues. There have always been exceptions: musicians from relatively stable (working-class to privileged) backgrounds who chose the blues and found success in it. This includes performers like Rory Block, Joe Bonamassa, Paul Butterfield, Eric Clapton, John Mayall, Bonnie Raitt, Dave Specter, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and Johnny Winter show that blues music is open to anyone willing to immerse themselves in its tradition and gain mastery.
Blues lyrics often reflect personal experience, ranging from oppression and hardship for some to life on the road, boasting, and bravado for others. Meanwhile, most blues musicians explore universal themes of love, heartbreak, infidelity, jealousy, alcohol and drug use, themes that transcend the socio-economic origins of their players.
Ultimately, the blues do not demand personal suffering as a credential. Instead, it draws its strength from the authentic expression of human experience, technical mastery, and the musician’s ability to communicate that to a receptive audience.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screenshot-2025-07-06-at-2.09.26 AM.png458496Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-07-06 06:34:182025-07-07 06:54:09Do Blues Musicians Really Need to Suffer to Be Great?
Like many people who enjoy TV drama series, I’m watching the fourth season of Hulu’s The Bear. The show offers lots of compelling elements: authentic character development, realistic workplace dynamics, and narratives that resonate with broader contemporary social issues.
Besides Carmen (played by Jeremy Allen White), the haute cuisine trained chef who returns home to Chicago to run, and later transform, The Beef, his deceased brother Mikey’s struggling restaurant, into a Michelin star worthy spot, another notable character is Richie.
Not only was Richie (performed by Ebon Moss-Bachrach) Mikey’s employee, but he was his closest friend. He’s navigating a sense of loss, including his divorce, co-parenting his young daughter with his ex-wife and soon-to-be new husband, feelings of being a loser, and a profound sense of displacement in a rapidly changing world.
In many ways, Richie is representative of many working-class men caught between economic marginalization and personal crisis.
The fact is, there are countless individuals whose life trajectories mirror Richie’s struggles. And the common thread isn’t the specific nature of their trauma, whether it stems from childhood abuse, neglect, combat exposure, or economic underachievement or work displacement, but rather their response to unresolved psychological wounds. Whether real or perceived, these wounds can leave lasting, debilitating effects.
What often separates people is not the cause of their trauma or even how they interpret it, but how they deal with it.
Some turn to religion or spiritual practices to cope with the lasting effects of their distress. Others become workaholics, or throw themselves into their careers, hoping that professional achievement will provide validation and perhaps distract them from their pain. Still others cope by drinking heavily or using drugs to temporarily numb the pain or confusion; strategies that may sustain them for years but inevitably compound their underlying problems.
Meanwhile, as the saying goes, “the body keeps the score.” These unaddressed psychological wounds manifest in physical health problems, creating a cascading series of complications that, over time, become increasingly difficult to manage.
During my work with currently or formerly incarcerated people, the more empathetic staff often observed that many inmates were simply individuals who had exhausted their coping mechanisms. The phrase, “There but for the grace of God go I,” reflected an understanding that with enough stress, trauma, and insufficient support, any of us could find ourselves in similar circumstances.
What distinguishes The Bear from other workplace dramas is its nuanced portrayal of how trauma affects different individuals within the same environment. While Carmen participates in grief counseling, specifically a support group for those who have lost loved ones to suicide, other characters like Richie (short of journaling and reading philosophy) appear to be managing their emotional difficulties without professional intervention.
This reflects a broader pattern in American society where mental health resources are underutilized, particularly among working-class men, who may view seeking this type of help as a weakness or who lack access to affordable treatment options.
It’s important to recognize that maladaptive responses to unresolved anger and unaddressed trauma are not character flaws. The difference between those who recover and those who remain trapped in destructive patterns often comes down to access to appropriate intervention and support systems.
The Bear doesn’t offer simplistic solutions for people struggling with trauma and related issues, but it does show that many damaged individuals can begin to heal through authentic human connections and being honest about themselves and others. The show’s strength here lies in its recognition that recovery is not a linear process and that meaningful change requires both individual effort and a network of support (e.g., co-workers and selected family members).
Richie’s character serves as a reminder that behind every person struggling with anger, addiction, or antisocial behavior lies a human being dealing with pain they may not fully understand. Rather than dismissing such individuals as hopeless cases, we might consider how our communities can better support those who are fighting battles that aren’t immediately visible.
The lesson here extends beyond fictional portrayals of the inner workings of struggling restaurants and their employees. In our daily lives, we encounter people whose behavior reflects their underlying struggles with trauma and loss. Responding with empathy rather than judgment, and an understanding that professional help is both available and necessary, may be the difference between someone finding a path forward or remaining trapped in destructive patterns.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screenshot-2025-06-30-at-1.44.39 PM.png596904Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-06-30 17:23:302025-06-30 18:10:54Everybody Knows a Richie
Since winning the presidency a second time, Trump and his administration have engaged in a series of actions that have negatively impacted U.S. universities and professors. These include, but are not limited to, rescinding key DEI mandates, withholding federal research and grants funding, restricting international students and visas, investigating university responses to anti-semitism, reforming educational institution accreditation, and dismantling the Department of Education.
Many professors, university leaders, and administrators are predictably worried about this assault on post-secondary education. They find their research defunded, their institutions threatened, and their international students caught in bureaucratic visa limbo. The challenge to “academic freedom” is constantly lurking in the shadows.
At the same time, we are reading stories about high-profile US scholars like Timothy Snyder and Jason Stanley, among others, who are moving to Canada, and how a select number of European universities and countries are developing programs to attract or recruit US-based academics.
But before you quit your academic job, pack your bags (not to mention uproot your family, etc., etc., etc.), here are some workplace and career issues to consider.
Can you speak a foreign language (or are you willing to learn)?
If you didn’t grow up speaking the language of the country you’re targeting, expect real challenges. Limiting yourself to English-speaking countries will narrow your job opportunities. While English is the lingua franca of academia and many foreign scholars speak it well, you’ll never match native fluency in the local language. Sure, translation tools can help with documents, but navigating daily life, university bureaucracy, and informal academic networks is another story.
What does your international academic network look like?
It’s important to recognize that many of the academics featured in news media reports about relocating abroad already had long-standing research collaborations and institutional ties in the countries and universities they’re moving to. These connections are making the desirability of moving and transitions significantly smoother than they might be for others without this kind of resource.
Have you ever lived or worked in academia outside the United States?
If your international experience is limited to attending academic conferences or brief summer vacations to Europe, a Christmas vacation in Acapulco, or a ski weekend in Quebec, you may be surprised by how different it is to live and work abroad long-term. Being a tourist or a visiting scholar is no substitute for the realities of everyday life in a foreign country. The differences are significant, especially when navigating unfamiliar bureaucracies, adapting to new professional norms, or handling day-to-day needs like housing, transportation, and healthcare.
What Immigration Challenges Might You Face?
Immigration laws and employment policies vary widely by country. Some universities offer legal support for securing work visas, paths to citizenship, etc., but many do not. In those cases, the responsibility and cost typically fall on the candidate. Do you have the financial resources, and are they readily available to cover legal fees, visa applications, and associated relocation expenses? Do you have the patience to deal with local bureaucracies, many of whom are hostile to foreigners?
What is Academic Culture Like Outside the United States?
Academic norms in Anglo-American countries (e.g., Canada, United States, United Kingdom, Australia, etc.) are pretty much the same, but those in other countries often differ significantly from the U.S. system. Expectations around research productivity, access to funding, and institutional hierarchies can be strikingly different. Salaries are generally lower in most European countries, though this is often offset by more robust social safety nets that provide national healthcare, public education, and pension systems. However, these benefits may not fully compensate for the income loss, particularly for mid-career or senior academics accustomed to U.S. salary scales.
What does academic Life Abroad Look Like?
Yes, many European academics take the entire month of August off, and the work-life balance can seem enviable. But academia is under pressure in many countries. Public support is often waning. Some would argue it was never particularly strong, and scholars are increasingly cast as out-of-touch elites who contribute little of practical value to society. The same sorts of dynamics regarding post-secondary higher education that are hitting the United States are present, but with less intensity, in other countries.
What is the Job Availability Like in Foreign Countries?
To begin with, not all countries financially support university education. In some countries, particularly those that are considered less developed, professors are not paid what would be considered a living wage. Thus, it is not uncommon for academics in these locations to hold an outside job. This means that the academic position at a university is considered more like a hobby or a secondary employment.
Meanwhile, about a decade ago, it was common to hear newly minted PhDs from Belgium, France, Italy, or Spain say that the only way they’d get a full-time academic job in their home country was if a professor died. Why? Academic positions were limited and centrally controlled by the state. While the situation has evolved somewhat since then, it hasn’t improved dramatically.
Also, the demand for scholars with expertise in STEM fields, especially engineering and computer science, is significantly higher than for those specializing in the humanities. In Europe, just like in the United States, the job market is saturated with humanities scholars. Many with advanced training in Cultural. Literary, Political, or Social Theory, or similar areas, are either stuck in long academic job queues or working in the service industry as gig workers.
For foreign professors, especially those without established international reputations, opportunities remain quite limited. Many professors and graduate students underestimate just how competitive foreign academic environments are. After some time, you may find yourself running into serious, often unspoken, job and career challenges. Chief among them: you’re trying to break into entrenched local scholarly networks. The old-boy systems you may have benefited from (and also resented) in the U.S. are alive and well in most countries.
In practice, this means local PhDs and postdocs are frequently favored. Even highly qualified outsiders may be viewed with indifference or even suspicion.
Additionally, many countries impose age caps on academic positions. I’ve seen highly talented European scholars essentially forced into early retirement due to government regulations. Often, the best they can hope for is a nice farewell party and a Festschrift no one reads.
Wrapping Out
So while an academic position outside of the United States may appear attractive, they are neither easy to land nor free of complications. If you’re not already internationally connected or highly visible in your field, the road overseas may be steeper and less stable than you were hoping for.
I’m not suggesting that professors should abandon the option of seeking higher education employment outside of the United States, but rather a suggestion to think more carefully about this decision.
Photo Credit
Photographer: Weegee
Title: Drunk (1940)
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screenshot-2025-06-21-at-11.17.04 AM.png14961488Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-06-22 12:14:542025-06-22 12:42:16Sobering Thoughts About Academics Considering Escaping the United States
Do Blues Musicians Really Need to Suffer to Be Great?
/by Jeffrey Ian RossThere’s a long-held belief that great art requires suffering. One genre where this perception is especially prominent is blues music. Rooted in the African American experience, the blues is known for its emotional intensity, blue notes, and repeating chord structures, often conveying themes of physical, emotional, or psychological hardship.
Given these origins, one might ask: Is this music best performed by those who have endured pain and suffering?
Undoubtedly, many early African American blues musicians faced extreme poverty, racism, and violence, particularly in the Jim Crow South. Legends like Robert Johnson, Lead Belly, Ma Rainey, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Son House variously endured poverty, prison, and backbreaking labor. Their music often drew directly from these harsh experiences.
But that doesn’t mean suffering is required to create great blues. There have always been exceptions: musicians from relatively stable (working-class to privileged) backgrounds who chose the blues and found success in it. This includes performers like Rory Block, Joe Bonamassa, Paul Butterfield, Eric Clapton, John Mayall, Bonnie Raitt, Dave Specter, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and Johnny Winter show that blues music is open to anyone willing to immerse themselves in its tradition and gain mastery.
Blues lyrics often reflect personal experience, ranging from oppression and hardship for some to life on the road, boasting, and bravado for others. Meanwhile, most blues musicians explore universal themes of love, heartbreak, infidelity, jealousy, alcohol and drug use, themes that transcend the socio-economic origins of their players.
Ultimately, the blues do not demand personal suffering as a credential. Instead, it draws its strength from the authentic expression of human experience, technical mastery, and the musician’s ability to communicate that to a receptive audience.
Everybody Knows a Richie
/by Jeffrey Ian RossLike many people who enjoy TV drama series, I’m watching the fourth season of Hulu’s The Bear. The show offers lots of compelling elements: authentic character development, realistic workplace dynamics, and narratives that resonate with broader contemporary social issues.
Besides Carmen (played by Jeremy Allen White), the haute cuisine trained chef who returns home to Chicago to run, and later transform, The Beef, his deceased brother Mikey’s struggling restaurant, into a Michelin star worthy spot, another notable character is Richie.
Not only was Richie (performed by Ebon Moss-Bachrach) Mikey’s employee, but he was his closest friend. He’s navigating a sense of loss, including his divorce, co-parenting his young daughter with his ex-wife and soon-to-be new husband, feelings of being a loser, and a profound sense of displacement in a rapidly changing world.
In many ways, Richie is representative of many working-class men caught between economic marginalization and personal crisis.
The fact is, there are countless individuals whose life trajectories mirror Richie’s struggles. And the common thread isn’t the specific nature of their trauma, whether it stems from childhood abuse, neglect, combat exposure, or economic underachievement or work displacement, but rather their response to unresolved psychological wounds. Whether real or perceived, these wounds can leave lasting, debilitating effects.
What often separates people is not the cause of their trauma or even how they interpret it, but how they deal with it.
Some turn to religion or spiritual practices to cope with the lasting effects of their distress. Others become workaholics, or throw themselves into their careers, hoping that professional achievement will provide validation and perhaps distract them from their pain. Still others cope by drinking heavily or using drugs to temporarily numb the pain or confusion; strategies that may sustain them for years but inevitably compound their underlying problems.
The consequences of these coping strategies are predictable. They include depression, deteriorating work performance, missed deadlines, social isolation, and forgotten important events. They may also have repeated contact with the criminal justice system through arrests for drunk driving, domestic violence, or other manifestations of poor anger management.
Meanwhile, as the saying goes, “the body keeps the score.” These unaddressed psychological wounds manifest in physical health problems, creating a cascading series of complications that, over time, become increasingly difficult to manage.
During my work with currently or formerly incarcerated people, the more empathetic staff often observed that many inmates were simply individuals who had exhausted their coping mechanisms. The phrase, “There but for the grace of God go I,” reflected an understanding that with enough stress, trauma, and insufficient support, any of us could find ourselves in similar circumstances.
What distinguishes The Bear from other workplace dramas is its nuanced portrayal of how trauma affects different individuals within the same environment. While Carmen participates in grief counseling, specifically a support group for those who have lost loved ones to suicide, other characters like Richie (short of journaling and reading philosophy) appear to be managing their emotional difficulties without professional intervention.
This reflects a broader pattern in American society where mental health resources are underutilized, particularly among working-class men, who may view seeking this type of help as a weakness or who lack access to affordable treatment options.
It’s important to recognize that maladaptive responses to unresolved anger and unaddressed trauma are not character flaws. The difference between those who recover and those who remain trapped in destructive patterns often comes down to access to appropriate intervention and support systems.
The Bear doesn’t offer simplistic solutions for people struggling with trauma and related issues, but it does show that many damaged individuals can begin to heal through authentic human connections and being honest about themselves and others. The show’s strength here lies in its recognition that recovery is not a linear process and that meaningful change requires both individual effort and a network of support (e.g., co-workers and selected family members).
Richie’s character serves as a reminder that behind every person struggling with anger, addiction, or antisocial behavior lies a human being dealing with pain they may not fully understand. Rather than dismissing such individuals as hopeless cases, we might consider how our communities can better support those who are fighting battles that aren’t immediately visible.
The lesson here extends beyond fictional portrayals of the inner workings of struggling restaurants and their employees. In our daily lives, we encounter people whose behavior reflects their underlying struggles with trauma and loss. Responding with empathy rather than judgment, and an understanding that professional help is both available and necessary, may be the difference between someone finding a path forward or remaining trapped in destructive patterns.
Sobering Thoughts About Academics Considering Escaping the United States
/by Jeffrey Ian RossSince winning the presidency a second time, Trump and his administration have engaged in a series of actions that have negatively impacted U.S. universities and professors. These include, but are not limited to, rescinding key DEI mandates, withholding federal research and grants funding, restricting international students and visas, investigating university responses to anti-semitism, reforming educational institution accreditation, and dismantling the Department of Education.
Many professors, university leaders, and administrators are predictably worried about this assault on post-secondary education. They find their research defunded, their institutions threatened, and their international students caught in bureaucratic visa limbo. The challenge to “academic freedom” is constantly lurking in the shadows.
At the same time, we are reading stories about high-profile US scholars like Timothy Snyder and Jason Stanley, among others, who are moving to Canada, and how a select number of European universities and countries are developing programs to attract or recruit US-based academics.
But before you quit your academic job, pack your bags (not to mention uproot your family, etc., etc., etc.), here are some workplace and career issues to consider.
Can you speak a foreign language (or are you willing to learn)?
If you didn’t grow up speaking the language of the country you’re targeting, expect real challenges. Limiting yourself to English-speaking countries will narrow your job opportunities. While English is the lingua franca of academia and many foreign scholars speak it well, you’ll never match native fluency in the local language. Sure, translation tools can help with documents, but navigating daily life, university bureaucracy, and informal academic networks is another story.
What does your international academic network look like?
It’s important to recognize that many of the academics featured in news media reports about relocating abroad already had long-standing research collaborations and institutional ties in the countries and universities they’re moving to. These connections are making the desirability of moving and transitions significantly smoother than they might be for others without this kind of resource.
Have you ever lived or worked in academia outside the United States?
If your international experience is limited to attending academic conferences or brief summer vacations to Europe, a Christmas vacation in Acapulco, or a ski weekend in Quebec, you may be surprised by how different it is to live and work abroad long-term. Being a tourist or a visiting scholar is no substitute for the realities of everyday life in a foreign country. The differences are significant, especially when navigating unfamiliar bureaucracies, adapting to new professional norms, or handling day-to-day needs like housing, transportation, and healthcare.
What Immigration Challenges Might You Face?
Immigration laws and employment policies vary widely by country. Some universities offer legal support for securing work visas, paths to citizenship, etc., but many do not. In those cases, the responsibility and cost typically fall on the candidate. Do you have the financial resources, and are they readily available to cover legal fees, visa applications, and associated relocation expenses? Do you have the patience to deal with local bureaucracies, many of whom are hostile to foreigners?
What is Academic Culture Like Outside the United States?
Academic norms in Anglo-American countries (e.g., Canada, United States, United Kingdom, Australia, etc.) are pretty much the same, but those in other countries often differ significantly from the U.S. system. Expectations around research productivity, access to funding, and institutional hierarchies can be strikingly different. Salaries are generally lower in most European countries, though this is often offset by more robust social safety nets that provide national healthcare, public education, and pension systems. However, these benefits may not fully compensate for the income loss, particularly for mid-career or senior academics accustomed to U.S. salary scales.
What does academic Life Abroad Look Like?
Yes, many European academics take the entire month of August off, and the work-life balance can seem enviable. But academia is under pressure in many countries. Public support is often waning. Some would argue it was never particularly strong, and scholars are increasingly cast as out-of-touch elites who contribute little of practical value to society. The same sorts of dynamics regarding post-secondary higher education that are hitting the United States are present, but with less intensity, in other countries.
What is the Job Availability Like in Foreign Countries?
To begin with, not all countries financially support university education. In some countries, particularly those that are considered less developed, professors are not paid what would be considered a living wage. Thus, it is not uncommon for academics in these locations to hold an outside job. This means that the academic position at a university is considered more like a hobby or a secondary employment.
Meanwhile, about a decade ago, it was common to hear newly minted PhDs from Belgium, France, Italy, or Spain say that the only way they’d get a full-time academic job in their home country was if a professor died. Why? Academic positions were limited and centrally controlled by the state. While the situation has evolved somewhat since then, it hasn’t improved dramatically.
Also, the demand for scholars with expertise in STEM fields, especially engineering and computer science, is significantly higher than for those specializing in the humanities. In Europe, just like in the United States, the job market is saturated with humanities scholars. Many with advanced training in Cultural. Literary, Political, or Social Theory, or similar areas, are either stuck in long academic job queues or working in the service industry as gig workers.
For foreign professors, especially those without established international reputations, opportunities remain quite limited. Many professors and graduate students underestimate just how competitive foreign academic environments are. After some time, you may find yourself running into serious, often unspoken, job and career challenges. Chief among them: you’re trying to break into entrenched local scholarly networks. The old-boy systems you may have benefited from (and also resented) in the U.S. are alive and well in most countries.
In practice, this means local PhDs and postdocs are frequently favored. Even highly qualified outsiders may be viewed with indifference or even suspicion.
Additionally, many countries impose age caps on academic positions. I’ve seen highly talented European scholars essentially forced into early retirement due to government regulations. Often, the best they can hope for is a nice farewell party and a Festschrift no one reads.
Wrapping Out
So while an academic position outside of the United States may appear attractive, they are neither easy to land nor free of complications. If you’re not already internationally connected or highly visible in your field, the road overseas may be steeper and less stable than you were hoping for.
I’m not suggesting that professors should abandon the option of seeking higher education employment outside of the United States, but rather a suggestion to think more carefully about this decision.
Photo Credit
Photographer: Weegee
Title: Drunk (1940)