My entire life has always been based around a plan. I’m honestly pretty sure that I’ve been an organized perfectionist since I was in the womb. I guess I’ve always wanted to know what happens next, so I can be prepared. When we’re young, one of the biggest uncertainties is how we will spend the rest of our lives. And as we get older, the pressure to find the perfect job we absolutely love gets even worse.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
As a rising senior in college, this is perhaps the most terrifying question you could ask me right now. But when I was younger, this was my favorite question to answer. Probably because I always knew what to say.
Up until eighth grade, I had always wanted to be a teacher. I was notorious for making everyone “play school” with me, claiming the role as teacher and requiring friends, family and babysitters to do homework and worksheets so I could grade them. Looking back, I actually cannot believe that my friends put up with me. But I loved it.
In ninth grade, the anticipation of college applications and pressure of harder classes got to me and I steered myself away from a school focus. I had fallen in love with music and toyed with the idea of managing a band or musician. When the Twitter frenzy hit our generation, I switched my “ideal career” to marketing for the entertainment industry. I ran with this idea for most of high school.
By the end of senior year, I had completely changed my mind again. The Boston Marathon bombing shook me up emotionally, but it also made me want to play a part in preventing future tragedies. I knew I would never be able to be in the field with criminals and terrorists, but I decided that my social media and online networking skills could prove useful as an online analyst for the FBI. So when I entered college, I declared as an Economics major and took Chinese classes to set myself up for success in government intelligence fields.
To no surprise, I changed my mind again later that spring. I took my first Education class with a retiring professor – one of the best professors I’ve ever had – and fell in love with teaching all over again. I went back to my summer camp more excited than ever, with an even higher level of commitment than I had in past summers. By the end of summer 2014, I had a new plan: Be a high school teacher at a private school in the Boston area and run a summer camp on the off-season.
I held onto this plan for a while, until I realized I didn’t really have a subject to teach in high school and might do better with younger ages. This year, I spent the entire month of January in a second grade classroom. I saw the kids for two hours per day and had the opportunity to teach my own lessons and actually work one-on-one with the students. I was amazed at how much I could teach them – and learned how crucial the elementary school years are for child development. I began my junior spring fully committed to the idea of becoming licensed as a elementary school teacher and teaching third grade.
As spring progressed, I began to feel uneasy with my decision to teach elementary school. Like all of the times before, I knew that I was once again getting ready to change my mind. Except this time, I don’t have a plan.
I think I want to live in Boston.
I know I want a job with constant human interaction.
I want to feel like I’m making a difference.
Apart from these few criteria, I really don’t have any answers for myself. But I’ve realized in the recent weeks that this is almost a blessing in disguise. Without any idea of what comes next, I am forced to enjoy the moment I am currently in without worry or anticipation for the future. I don't have a set career plan that dictates the classes I take and the decisions I make - I can just enjoy the amazing friends I am surrounded with and the incredible opportunities I have been given while still at college.
With graduation now 12 months away, I can uncomfortably say I “still have time.” While the organized over-thinker in me would love to have a plan for the rest of my life, I’m kind of loving the uncertainty of the moment and trusting my gut that I’ll figure it out.
For the first time in my life, I don’t have a plan. And for now, I think that’s OK.
