I was sitting on a bus, when I got the life-changing email.
My heart began pounding as I read I was being offered a paid internship through the LA County Arts Commission (LACAC). I felt on top of the world.
Over the course of 10 weeks I would learn what it was like to have a nine-to-five job: quickly understanding the importance of going to bed early, developing an addiction to coffee during the midday slump, and getting accustomed to the usual hustle and bustle of the workplace itself. I would become more acquainted with my own hometown, from discovering the favorite local sandwich and coffee shops nearby, to sitting in on Chamber of Commerce meetings and learning about the up and coming developments of the town. I would be empowered to share my ideas at the table and innovate creative solutions. Ultimately, I would have my first real life job experience.
I came out of that internship with a family. A group of women who had not only graced me to the moon and back with their presence, but taught me so much more than just professional skills and real world experiences. They taught me about life.
I also came out of that internship, with an overwhelming anxiety.
Not only was I leaving to move into my new home and start my last year of college, I was entering my last year of college knowing that the path I had thought I wanted to pursue was no longer the path I actually wanted to pursue.
As my Mom and I pulled out of the driveway to start our trek back to Merced, I began to panic. How could I be coming back to college for my last year, without any idea of what I wanted to do after? How could I literally be back at square one? I was having all the same thoughts that I had when I was coming to Merced for my very first year of college. Except this time, I was on the other end of the tunnel. With no plan.
Nervously, I decided that I had to prepare my mom for this lack of a plan. I told her how education was important to me, because after all, she had sacrificed so much to put me through private school, and make sure that I had all the resources I needed to be successful in college. So I took a deep breath.
I told her about how much I loved school and how important it was to me to continue furthering my education. I told her I definitely wanted to go to grad school… I just wasn’t sure what for. I finally told her that I might take a year or two off just to really figure things out. I assured her that it was a matter of when I would go to grad school, not if.
She smiled.
Everything that came out of her mouth after that was supportive. She told me about how she had waited ten years after getting her Bachelor degree, to return to school for her Masters in Social Work. How she was still living at home with her parents for a while and eventually got her own apartment. And in some ways, she probably waited too long to go back. But at the end of the day, she felt that going back was such a transformative experience. It was the experience that got her to where she was today.
Somehow, our conversation landed on a social media campaign that had graced the timelines of people all over the world: #FirstSevenJobs. As you can imagine, the hashtag campaign challenged social media users to share their first seven jobs, and ultimately the transformation of their professional careers. As she drove down I-5, I read her various tweets in response to #FirstSevenJobs. So of course, this inspired my mom to share her first seven:
- McDonald’s Cashier
- Hotel Maid
- Restaurant Hostess/Waitress
- Macy’s Sales Associate
- Department of Mental Health Case Manager
- Department of Mental Health Social Worker
- DMH Clinic Supervisor
I felt some peace of mind knowing that “the path” wasn’t always clear from the get go.
At the same time, not having a plan felt so daunting. I began this fall semester sitting through classes wondering what my four years would actually amount to in the “real world”. Slowly but surely clouds of depressing descent were looming over my already anxious mental state of mind.
I thought about how even though it was still August, I was already anxious about Thanksgiving because that’s where family asks the notorious “So what do you want to do after you graduate?” question.
If you’re a college student or recent grad, you know that this is the deathly question you always try to avoid when attending family gatherings. Then as soon as they ask, you reach for the nearest plate of sweet potatoes and scream on the inside because you’ve just been reminded that you still have no plans. Just what you wanted during your holiday “break”.
Needless to say, I was more than moderately anxious in anticipation of this question.
And then, it happened. Twas a lowly Saturday night and all through the house not a housemate was stirring, not even a mouse. I sat at the dining table reading Talk Like TED by Carmine Gallo and came across an excerpt from Steve Jobs’ commencement speech at Stanford in 2005:
“Your work is going to fill a large part of your life and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle.”
Go ahead. Read that one more time and let it sink in.
From as early as preschool and kindergarten, we are asked the question: What do you want to do/be when you grow up? We are conditioned to think about our futures in terms of just doing or being something once that magical grown up age comes about. So when we hit college we often hit a wall. And as we face that wall, we become scared because having your life figured out at 18 years old is not an easy feat.
So we sit through all these general ed classes wondering, will this be the class that changes my life and helps me decide? And then time starts ticking and we need to declare a major before junior year. Because if we don’t, an advisor will tell us that we’re really behind. And when we hear that, we start to scramble under the pressure to have life all figured out.
What if we replaced the age old “What do you want to be when you grow up?” with “What is your passion?” What if we challenged our kids, adolescents, and young adults to fuel their endeavors with passion? What if we simply encouraged our future generations to think outside the box?
When I read the excerpt from Steve’s commencement, I wanted to cry. I laid the book down on the oak wood table before me and sat back in my chair, letting this all sink in. I immediately started to recontextualize the possibilities of my future. Instead of a blank canvas, I saw a canvas with so much opportunity. I saw my lack of a plan as a beautiful point in my life. In this moment, the world was at my fingertips. And still is.
So with less than a year before I graduate, I am still working on my plan. And I’m okay with that. Because at the end of the day, I’m taking the time to embrace my passions, take risks, and see where this all leads me.
