Life is a series of trends and decisions. We move wistfully through childhood wanting one toy or another or begging for the brand name school supplies or a Tamagochi (yeah, you remember those). As we travel through adolescence, the question soon becomes where is everyone shopping? We save our allowance or charge the ol’ credit card to keep up with the Ed Hardy or American Eagle fads. Entering high school, everyone wants to be doing the coolest things: posting the most aesthetically pleasing Instagram pic to prove their weekend was doooooope! This seems to be true throughout life, except we’ve graduated from searching for what makes us cool into what makes us happy. This wisdom, of course, is coming from a 21-year-old college senior and should probably be taken with a grain of salt.
The one question that lasts, though, is the one that strikes fear into the hearts of 20-somethings everywhere. We’ve all been asked it a million times, and personally, my answer changes every time. There should be a strategy taught in school about how best to answer this chilling question: “What do you want to do?”
The problem isn’t that my life lacks direction or that I’m scared of the future — though, admittedly, I think I am pretty scared of the future. The real issue I have with this question is that it’s asked so casually, and always implies that it should have a simple answer. “I want to be a doctor,” some might answer simply. Others may state, with no hesitation, “I want to be an activist.” However, this is a question that can’t be taken lightly. Really thinking about the implications of this question makes me wonder how I’ve come to be where I am.
At the moment, I’m between my junior and senior year of undergrad (studying theater management at the University of Evansville), struggling to live in New York as an intern in audience services at a large not-for-profit theater company. I have a resume that lists my accomplishments and numerous cover letters saved in a folder on my desktop, all promising that I’m the best choice for whatever position at whatever company. I’ve encountered this question many times this summer, most often from senior staff members at the company. They ask, I answer. Sometimes I say I want to pursue development (fundraising for nonprofit companies), sometimes casting, and sometimes literary or artistic endeavors. It’s easy to mold my answer to sound most appealing to the asker, but it’s extremely difficult to feel totally honest as I’m answering.
I’ve been promised many times when I struggle to answer the question that, “It’s OK not to know exactly what you want; you’re in your early 20s and you have your whole life ahead of you.” This is always comforting to hear, but I can’t help but wonder how it’s an appropriate follow-up to such a loaded question. I find solace in stories about how so-and-so who now has a staff of 100-plus employees went to school for this or that, found a dozen or so odd jobs, and didn’t figure out what path to take until they were in their 30s. This promises that I’ll end up where I need to be. Everything always works out, though not always how I think it will.
As a closing thought, I ask you, my beautiful reader, to think twice before you ask this question to a peer. There are a dozen other ways to ask the question that don’t feel like the future falling onto your shoulders. Let’s start asking, “What are you interested in?” or “What’s your dream job?” These are questions that invoke a positive view of the future without making some poor millennial break out into a cold sweat over student loans, internships, networking, LinkedIn, etc. The future shouldn’t be scary, and we shouldn’t be worried about our path until we know we’ve found our place in the world. Here’s to the journey and what lies ahead!
