It is heartbreaking that a five year old who once dreamed of exploring space and making scientific discovery winds up an adult in a cubicle living only for the two days away from mundanity. Kindergarten teachers tell us to dream big, and so we do. We look around our classroom and see future presidents and movie stars. When we are children we believe that anything is possible because that is what we are told. We have blind faith in our parent’s promises of grandeur. Somehow the magic of possibility dissipates when we age. Goals are to become realistic, easily attainable, and practical; and any ambitious aspirations are met only with the infamous questions, “Do you have a plan B?” or, “You know you won’t make very much money doing that right?”
As someone who would like to be an author or an editor in the future I have been frequently asked both of those things. Doubt and skepticism filling the eyes of the adult who pretends to only be interested in my well-being. As if I am somehow incapable of putting enough thought into my future to know how hard it will be to obtain success. I am well aware of the work it will require to become all that I want to become and achieve all that I want to achieve. As well as the repercussions of my choices. My ultimate goal is not wealth or ease, but happiness. As far as anyone is concerned, my plan B, is refer to plan A. My backup plan is none of anyone’s business, whether I have one or not.
It can be said that this invasive concern stems from a good place, good intentions. People who love us want to make sure we are prepared and whatnot; but all we hopefuls hear is, “be ready to fail, because you are not good enough to succeed.” Your shortcomings are not my shortcomings. Your forgotten dreams are not my future. I am not looking to settle and your lack of faith is disheartening. How can I be expected to pursue all that I have ever wanted if no one ever really believes I will get there?
We give up on our dreams because the people we respect do not have faith in us. And if they do, their actions do not reflect their emotions. How can we be expected to hold on to the hope of greatness and making change if no one really expects us to? Spend enough time working on plan B and it might as well become plan A. Our reluctance to share future plans stems from the judgements of those who believe themselves to be superior to us. They are veterans of life and think themselves wiser than those of us who are just figuring it out. And we believe them, because we have always looked to these people to advise us on our decisions. The words of these people carry more weight than they will ever realize. It is not their job to worry about our futures. Don’t ask for a plan B, just congratulate us on our determination.
