Society has found a covert way of determining our career paths for us. If you think about it, when was the last time you honestly answered the question: What do you want to be when you grow up? For me, I think it was kindergarten when I was convinced I would someday be a zookeeper. But, societal expectations and years of schooling shaped my career choice within an artificial, test-score-driven environment—a “pressure cooker.”

I was a nerd in school simply because I worked hard for my grades and took interest in various subjects: ancient history, differential equations, organ systems in the body, and Shakespeare’s Hamlet. I played piano and cello, ran cross country, and was a tutor in my high school’s Writing Center. There was little I couldn’t do. A well-rounded student. That’s what colleges were looking for, right?

But I felt no personal pull, no tug in one direction or the other—did I want to pursue science? Writing? I was disciplined and results-obsessed, determined to achieve the best marks and the highest honors. It was then (with a little inspiration from my favorite TV show, "Grey's Anatomy") that I decided surgery—a lucrative profession—was my calling.

I entered college declaring myself “Pre-Med,” convinced at age 17 that after years of arduous study and clinical rounds, I would be awarded my white coat, the promise of a fat paycheck, and the death sentence of working 60-80 hours a week. Saving lives would be cool, I’d be financially secure, my job would never become obsolete, science is neat and so is the human body—surgery it is! So I thought.

It took some intense soul-searching to realize that medicine wasn’t for me in the slightest. My job choice started to feel like a simplified answer to the complicated question about my post-higher-education plans.

Experiences that inform—volunteer work, internships, connections in a particular field—are invaluable to ultimately decide one’s end-goal or next step. I was basing my future solely on perceived expectations of what my family, my high school friends, and my teachers would want of me.

What I’ve come to realize is none of that matters. I had simply chosen a flashy title—Dr. Meredith Campbell—and conformed to the group of “nerds” with whom I associated (likewise fellow aspiring doctors).

Now, as I enter my senior year of college, I still feel lost as to what profession would provide me with a sense of worth and fulfillment. American culture puts a lot of stock in wealth, comfortable lifestyles, and productivity.

But what if we erased these powerful invisible forces that tell us to be lawyers, investment bankers, doctors, or researchers just because we were “the smart kids” in high school? Would our world be filled with happier people pursuing their kindergarten dreams?

I would make a lousy doctor and a miserable surgeon because I want to make an impact on this world through environmental justice. I want to use a pen and paper to address populations rather than a scalpel.

We need to fill our country and our world with passionate people who contribute meaningfully to the development and furtherance of a healthy, happy human population. We need people who want to write, fight on behalf of the climate, and remove inflamed appendices—not just in pursuit of wealth and titles. So, what is it youwant to be when you “grow up?”