I’m spending the summer before my junior year of college sitting at home in the suburbs with my family (including my adorable 16-month-old brother). This isn’t exactly what I had planned on doing this summer. I applied for two medical research internships but didn’t get either. I applied for an unpaid position mentoring at-risk middle-schoolers and was told I would have gotten it if the program hadn’t been canceled due to lack of funding a week before it was to begin. I wanted to volunteer at the children’s hospital, but they stopped taking applications before I got home from school (which is over 2,000 miles away from where I live). I considered applying for minimum wage jobs, but seeing my friend who has much more experience in food service apply to literally dozens of places without getting a single call back made me accept that I wouldn’t be making money this summer. I sort of regret not staying near my college over the summer since I would have had a much easier time finding a job or internship, but at least I get to spend more time with my family. My mom’s actually the one who introduced me to MTurk, so now it’s another thing we can bond over. I’m not exactly sure how medical schools will view “turking with my mom” as an explanation of how I spent my summer, but at least it will give me enough money to buy a book to prepare for the MCAT.

I was born in upstate New York and grew up in Savannah, Georgia. I love hot, humid weather, grits, soul food, and people who are polite. I had a rough childhood, reared by parents who were clinically insane. I made the best of a bad situation by garnering friends and enjoying enough extracurricular activities to keep me out of the house most of the time. After graduating from college, I drove cross-country because I couldn’t settle. It turned out to be an incredible adventure. I discovered the age-old wisdom that it’s about the journey, not the destination. It took me two months to reach the west. I worked odd jobs along the way, and I learned so much. It was fantastic. Eventually, I moved back to Savannah and worked a traditional 9-5 job for a few years. The company eventually promoted me, and I moved to San Francisco. An overview of my life here: I joined a local band that was more fun than successful; I got married to a very charming Brit who created a rollercoaster ride of a life for us; we had two gorgeous boys. These days, life is okay some of the time, and very difficult lots of the time. My husband is sweet, sincere, smart, and skilled. He’s a chef, and a good one. Unfortunately, he can’t seem to keep a job for more than a year and a half. It no longer matters. My life has turned into a cycle of depression and disappointment.

I grew up in Singapore, but never felt like I fit in well - my family was never quite like the usual, but not unusual enough to be different. While other families spoke in their dialect or mother tongue, we just had English - its not because my parents couldn’t speak any other language, but that English was the only one in common. So it is no surprise that I’d do badly in anything other than English. So I went to college in Australia and I learnt that I was ‘diaspora’. I fit in with everyone else who didn’t. It felt almost like home… I grew really used to being a little different from everyone and yet at home in knowing we were all that different. For work, I moved to Japan and when I got to know the expatriate community, everyone was different in big ways, the colour of the skin, the place they grew up, the language they spoke. I realized outside of monoculturalistic Singapore, there were a whole lot of people who were born in one place, grew up in another, spoke a completely different language and would end up marrying someone who probably did the same. We are all similarly different.

AH, THE TURKS. FREQUENTLY MISUNDERSTOOD BY THE WESTERN WORLD. WE MECHANICAL ONES ARE FREQUENTLY MISTAKEN FOR OUR VICTORIAN-ERA ORIGINALS. HOWEVER, NOT UNLIKE OUR HUMAN VICTORIAN COUNTERPARTS, WE WILLINGLY TOIL FOR PENNIES, SELLING PIECES OF OUR LIVES TO ANONYMOUS BIDDERS. OUR FUTURE? UNCERTAIN. BUT THAT’S THE WAY WE LIKE IT.

I think it’s important to remember how to create. I think we get too caught up in chasing money or outrunning failure that we lose touch with a part of ourself that is important. If you know how to create something, then you have a fundamental understanding of how your mind works and solves problems. If you build something, knit, write, bake from scratch, compose something, you are no longer a tool of the machine and you have gained control of your destiny in an important way. Even if you don’t see it at first, you can feel it. Just trust me on this one. I was a tool for most of my adult life. I was working at a terrible job and doing whatever I could to forget about it at the end of the day. I had no control over my thoughts and I only looked forward to my paycheck. I decided one day that it wasn’t good enough and I picked up a pair of knitting needles and some cheapy yarn at the big discount store in town. After a lot of false starts I taught my self to knit a pair of socks. Lame right? Not really, that gave me the confidence to try other things and stretch my creativity further, I taught myself HTML, then CSS, I am currently working as an e commerce professional and studying PHP. I am interning at a local design studio. I interviewed for the position while wearing my lucky socks.

I’m a 28 year old housewife gone mad. I’ve been home for 5 years, career on hold while I support my military spouse and raise our children. Over-worked, under-paid and slaving away at one of the most thankless jobs I’ve ever had, I’m losing it. I’m highly intelligent and feel like I’m wasting away in my pajamas one cup of coffee at a time. I tried online college - lame! I found legitimate work from home jobs - boring! I think I like looking for work from home jobs more than working them. And now, struggling like everyone else in America trying to make ends meet, here I sit on mTurk typing I don’t know what for pennies. Maybe it will add up, maybe I can earn enough today to pull 20 bucks out of the bank before my account goes into the red… or maybe I’m just wasting my time. I met with family recently that I had not seen for some time. It was amazing for me to learn that my cousins and other relatives think we are well off because we are in the military - HA! We barely make it. They only give us just enough to scrape by and even scraping is a tall order. To think that my husband would put his life on the line for a country and government that will barely pay his bills is atrocious! But there’s nothing we can do about it. Right? - Ah well the phone is ringing and I can see from the caller id that another bill collector is on the line - wish me luck!

David was a child who, as the last of four children, grew up as the only male in his household. His points-of-view were either manufactured within himself, or were handed down to him with a definite feminine slant. David did not grow up abused, tormented, or neglected, he just, at times, seemed to literally be the odd man out. David’s mother was very supportive of him and his three sisters. She constantly tried to impress upon them the importance of education, and David’s mother could not have been prouder, as she attended each of her three daughters’ high school graduations. David’s graduation would be the only one to which his mother would not attend. David’s final year of high school began one month before his sixteenth birthday, but one month later; his mother would pass away. With his father already out of the house, and the 2 oldest sisters fully involved in adult life, all that was left was David and the third of his three sisters. The death of David’s mother forced David to learn how to make decisions and how to carry his weight. In short, David was forced to become an adult, even though he himself knew that he was far from ready for a metamorphosis of this magnitude. Death causes different reactions in different people. Once the sadness and the mourning have passed, or have at least been put on hold, the period immediately after establishes the foundation for the future of everyone close to the deceased. Being the last of the children meant that David spent the most time with his mother during her final days. She was the first person to pass away that David would know personally, so his mother’s death was very hard on him. Many people in David’s family felt that he was not as overwhelmed as he himself knew that he was. Because David did not immediately display his despair outwardly, he was perceived as callous or indifferent towards his mother. It was only after the funeral that the members of David’s family began to understand. David knew that there had to be a rock for his sisters and other relatives to lean on, and David chose himself. This is a trait that would both serve and haunt David well into his adult life.

I am a very young grandma. I am 48 and my 11th grandchild will be born next month. I have been on disability for a long time, I can’t hold a full time job. Money is very tight, as it is for a lot of people now. I use the money I earn on Mechanical Turk to buy Christmas and birthday presents for all of my wonderful grandkids. Plus, the tasks I do are interesting and keep my brain working. I never get bored and usually occupy myself for several hours every time I log on. In the last 6 months, I’ve already earned almost $200. I choose to put my balance into an Amazon gift card. I can find something for all my grandkids there. Without Mechanical Turk, it would be very difficult to find presents for all of them. I’ve shared this site with my kids and their spouses. Several of them are now Mechanical Turkers, as well. Anything that helps a family with a little extra pocket change in this economy is good, and Mechanical Turk makes it fun, as well.

I was born into a family of musicians and artists, but not just “artists” as the general public knows the stigma to attach itself. There was no such word of “artists” as we generally know them today. Of course it was generally the convention since the 19th century and the term “starving artists” was initiated out of a drama (a play) set in Paris that our stigma became a general catch phrase among the populace. Traditionally, basically ever since the arts emerged out of the Renaissance, the arts as they were generally known had positively nothing of the free hand expression given today in a somewhat derogatory manner. There has been and continued as a tradition, and a well respected tradition, as per the arts for many centuries. Unfortunately this has not been played out among popular media and culture of today. In some respects this tradition that has lasted well over a thousand years.. laying a pathway of many influences.

The time came when I had to tell people at school about my immigration. First I told another one of my friends Bob. He knows how its feels when one of your friends move to another country because my godfathers wife was her nanny. She moved to England last year and because me and Bobwere very close to her it hurt. We still talk to her on the phone but its not the same. I know how it feels aswell because my best friends was Kip and he moved to Melbourne and it’s worse because I don’t speak to him any more. Anyway back to telling people at school. Most of my guy friends laughed and thought it was a joke or something. I soon convinced them I was not kidding. I think they felt a bit sad, but I was not as close to them as my friends that are girls and plus girls are much more mature and sensitive! My teacher was also sad when I told her. Although my life and lifestyle will be better I cant help but to think about the people I am leaving…that’s why I got their addresses and phone numbers! That way I can stay in touch with my friends and family!