“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Possibly the most exciting question you can ask a child. Be prepared to inscribe their long list of responses into a scroll the length of a California Redwood tree, as children harbor the purest sense of eagerness and drive for their future. It is not clouded by the fear of failure, nor the pressure to pick just one. Ask the same question to college students, and watch as they break out in head-to-toe hives. Be prepared with a brown paper bag to aid in regulating their breathing and perhaps act as a source of disposal as the queasiness of the question conquers their stomachs.
At what point did we lose that excitement and replace it with intense anxiety? As my undergraduate career is nearing its finale, instead of hearing an encouraging applause, I am hearing crickets from the audience. I have a plan; after college, I am off to grad school and then set free into the “real world.” And no, not the reality MTV show but the actual real world where I take my first timid steps into my career and come home to laundry, dishes, and bills with my name on them. As daunting a task as it was to decide on a major, choosing the right grad school, the best master’s program, in the most suitable city is absolutely worse. Most students my age are in a unifying consensus about the unsettling idea of catapulting away from student life and into the adult world. I think it is because it all feels so permanent.
With that being said, let us not forget that life is a fluid experience. Nothing in this world is safe from change, not even you. This should be consoling, as this promises your ability to change your path. We seem to have this false perception that our future is stagnant, that the choices we make as young 20-somethings will be written in stone. In reality, choosing a major is quite general. A major guides your studies, but you have a significant amount of freedom as to what you will do with your undergraduate degree. Not all psychology majors become psychologists, just as not all English majors become English teachers. Choosing a major is merely cementing the first brick into your path you will walk along throughout your life. Regardless of where that brick is resting, your direction has not yet been decided. Will you build it facing north? South? You have four years ahead of you to decide that, and those four years seem like a lifetime away.
Suddenly, those 1,460 days that once seemed too far in the distance to detect are now pictures in a photo album and your personal GPS is yelling for you to choose a direction. With so many possible ways to turn, how can you get yourself to choose just one? You know where you want to go, but do you really know? Will the direction you decide to face tomorrow be the direction you want to continue down in two years? Or even two days?
If you are standing on your single brick, utterly confused as to where to lay the next, know this: your second brick is not the end-all be-all; this brick does not determine the rest of your path, it is merely a “stepping stone” that leads you to your next brick. You create your path as you go. When you decide on the graduate program best for you, or the job opportunity that your gut is shouting for you to grab, a construction crew will not automatically appear paving the road you will walk down for the rest of your life. You have the power to change your direction; your compass is not eternally pointing north, south, east, or west. It will likely face all directions multiple times throughout your life. Do not fret the big “adult” decisions that lie ahead; listen to your intuition and spread a patch of cement before you. You cannot begin designing the shape of your path if you do not lay down your second brick.
