I’ve always been the “starving artist.” Not the genius, not the know-it-all, not the athlete, not even the slacker. I’m “artsy.” I put “artsy” in quotes because I have absolutely zero artistic ability when it comes to drawing, painting, sketching, or moulding clay. I guess “artsy” means daydreamer in my case. I’ve always been the kid who would rather read, write, sing, or act more than anything in the world. So, it wasn’t a surprise to my parents when I started applying to colleges and admitted that I would most definitely study English Literature, Creative Writing, and Theatre. I’m lucky. My parents are supportive, and as long as I get some sort of degree, they’ll still be cheering on the sidelines.

When I was little, I used to tell people that I wanted to be an actress when I grew up, and people thought it was adorable. I was loud and so sure of myself. I guess when you’re little, you can say anything. I could’ve told people I wanted to be a cat or an astronaut farmer, and they would have humored me. What I’ve quickly noticed is that no one will humor me anymore. In fact, most people want to challenge me. Now more than ever, people want to know what I want to study or what I want to become. I usually answer honestly.

“I want to be an actress and a novelist.”

On rare occasions, I get kind and genuine responses from people who support the arts and support me. However, most of the time, I get the universal question that every college student hates to hear.

“But… how will you make money?”

The question is not only stressful, but it’s extremely obnoxious. I think people worry that I haven’t thought about my future finances or lack thereof, when in reality most of my thoughts and worries are about just that. Of course I think about finances! I think about my student loans, taxes, insurance, and food. I think about food a lot. I used to joke about only needing to make enough money for a jar of peanut butter, but lately reality has been smacking me in the face and making me realize that a jar of peanut butter might be my dinner for the next fifteen years. I’m not studying Literature and Theatre because I want to be a millionaire. I’m studying them because I’m passionate about them.

Near the end of my senior year of high school, I started to lie a little…maybe I could call it acting. When people asked me about what I wanted to study in college I would make up a major. I would talk about wanting to work in hospitals or with young students. Sometimes I said I wanted to be an English professor or a German translator. When I lied, I always got serious head nods and respectful congratulations, but I felt sad and lost. Of course, it’s easier to tell people I want to be a doctor, lawyer, or professor, but I want my passions to be congratulated not just questioned.

Lately, I’ve made a pact with myself. I’ve promised myself to be honest about my aspirations. I know I’ll get a lot of questions and a lot of doubt. I know people will ask me if I know what I’m up against, and I know I will have to be patient with people who don’t get it quite yet. I also realize that I might change my mind in the next decade. I might end up owning a bakery or a flower shop, I might teach little kids how to play the xylophone, I might surprise everyone and become a surgeon (not likely), and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to be on a film set or my very own book tour. Regardless of where I end up, I’m going to keep learning. So, on behalf of all students, I ask that you give us time. Time to change our minds and take weird, seemingly irrelevant classes. While many students will become surgeons and attorneys, it’s possible that some of us will major in Folklore or Bagpiping. What matters is that we’re passionate about something. What matters is that we’re healthy and happy and doing what we love.