Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter #2) - Melanie Martins Page 0,13
the classes together?”
“Um.” Matthew seems confused. “So you also decided to switch to economics-philosophy?”
“Huh?” My jaw drops at his question. “What?”
“You didn’t read my last message?” he asks.
“No,” I confess. “What was it about?”
“Well, the group and I have decided to major in economics-philosophy instead of finance.”
My heart freezes at the terrible news and I’m left totally speechless. Then, after a few moments of processing his words, the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, “But why?”
“Well, a major in finance means we’d be part of the system that’s destroying our economy, our planet, and pretty much everything we stand for. But with a major in economics-philosophy, we can challenge the current status quo and present new solutions and alternatives,” Matthew explains.
“Oh, wow.” That’s the only thing I manage to say. “So you guys changed your minds just because of the pandemic?”
“It’s pretty serious, Petra.” Matthew’s tone is indeed just like that. “I’ll explain to you once we meet. But it’s not only about the pandemic, no. It’s much deeper than that. It’s always the same folks doing the same shit, and I’m tired of it.”
For some reason, I’ve got the impression that those “folks” include my dad and Alex. Indeed, I had forgotten for a minute how much Matthew hated everything about Wall Street, politics, and the tech industry. He has always been a dreamer, an idealist, a utopian. I was like him when I was younger—the idea of wanting to make the world a better place by fighting the evils of capitalism. But growing up with someone like my dad, you drop those ideals as fast as you get them. “So, what kind of career do you intend to pursue with a major in economics-philosophy?”
“There are many to choose from, like economist, academic, heck, even adviser to politicians. There’s a lot we can do.” I’m still in shock at the group’s decision, so I remain mute, digesting the horrible reality that I might have to spend the next few years completing my major in finance-economics all by myself from home. “You know me,” he mumbles, breaking our sad silence. “You know finance wasn’t the best fit.”
“Well… you like fancy cars,” I tease. “So I thought it wasn’t such a bad idea.”
Matthew chuckles. “I can still appreciate brands and beautiful things.”
“So does that mean you’re gonna have different classes than me from day one?”
“Why don’t you attend some of them and see if you like it?” he asks. “Maybe you would prefer philosophy over finance.”
Not even in a million years would Dad accept such a switch. I chuckle at the simple idea of asking him. I think he’d choke on his food if I did. Surprisingly, though, I say, “Yeah, I’d love to give it a try. Which course do you recommend?”
“Hmm, definitely Public Economics. It’s about exactly that debate you had last year with Prof Chilnisky, remember? About the role of the government in the economy? I swear, it’s pure intellectual porn. You’re gonna love it. The online class starts at ten a.m. or so.”
The invitation seems quite tempting. I remember perfectly well the dissertation I had to do last year. This course indeed seems right up my alley.
“Alright, I’ll attend that one, then,” I tell him as I wonder how I’m gonna persuade Dad. “I’ll send you the address and we’ll meet at nine-thirty, okay?”
“Amazing!” Matthew gives me a big, bright smile. “I’m sure you’re gonna love it. See you on the eighth, then.”
“See you on the eighth,” I reply back before ending the call.
Wow. That was such a big blow. It’s hard to believe they decided to switch majors so suddenly. But I guess the heated arguments and the current pandemic must have been the deciding factors. I look briefly at the courses that Columbia offers for a major in economics-philosophy. I must confess, all the subjects seem really interesting. But as Matthew just said, they are pure intellectual porn. They won’t teach me asset management, financial markets, portfolio allocation, or even entrepreneurship. They seem to be more about theory than practice. Nevertheless, attending one class with them to keep up some sort of social life seems like a pretty good compromise.
Decision made, I now have to persuade Dad to let me enroll in Public Economics. When you can’t walk, your phone becomes your best ally, so I decide to call him.
“Hi, Dad,” I greet upon hearing his voice. “Um, can I talk to you for a sec?”