The first time I thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said, without a doubt, "Teacher." This answer seems so obvious. How many kids say, without a doubt in their minds, that they want to follow in the footsteps of those who have taught them everything from how to spell to how many days there are in a week.
The next time I really thought about what my life would consist of after graduating college, I was in middle school. Eighth grade. I took a test, and they told me I should be a psychologist. And so, through high school and the first year of college, I spent my time thinking that I would be a psychologist, and then a teacher again, and then back to being a psychologist.
I never gave thought to what else was out there, and finally, I declared myself an English major. Why not follow my love of literature and writing? Why struggle to enjoy schoolwork that brought me little joy? If anything, I wanted to be happy.
Believe me when I say that being an English major brought me joy beyond compare. I finally engaged in class discussions. I found my writing niche in creative non-fiction. I met like-minded people that challenged me to learn. I love being an English major. However, I graduate in about four months, and I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.
The question rolls around in my brain every day. "What are you doing after you graduate?"
I have no idea.
I thought that maybe I would get some sort of office job somewhere, but, after going through two internships and a summer job that all took place in quiet, blank walled offices, I think I would be unhappy at a desk all day.
I still know that I will never be a teacher. The hours, the stress, I doubt I could find incredible amounts of joy in a job where I am always stressed--I failed to mention that I worked as a student teacher in both a middle and high school, and felt stress upon stress!
And so here I am. Working as an intern with my college's News and Media Department. I scan papers, I clip news articles, I put events on a calendar. I write press release after press release. And I feel empty. I need that light, that fulfillment.
I want to find joy in what I do. I hope that "paying my dues" as an intern will help me find my path. I hope that my writing might get noticed, I hope that I might discover a career that I truly love.
All I know for sure is that I will continue to search, and strive, and work, and hope. Who knows where I might end up!
The next time I really thought about what my life would consist of after graduating college, I was in middle school. Eighth grade. I took a test, and they told me I should be a psychologist. And so, through high school and the first year of college, I spent my time thinking that I would be a psychologist, and then a teacher again, and then back to being a psychologist.
I never gave thought to what else was out there, and finally, I declared myself an English major. Why not follow my love of literature and writing? Why struggle to enjoy schoolwork that brought me little joy? If anything, I wanted to be happy.
Believe me when I say that being an English major brought me joy beyond compare. I finally engaged in class discussions. I found my writing niche in creative non-fiction. I met like-minded people that challenged me to learn. I love being an English major. However, I graduate in about four months, and I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.
I have no idea.
I thought that maybe I would get some sort of office job somewhere, but, after going through two internships and a summer job that all took place in quiet, blank walled offices, I think I would be unhappy at a desk all day.
I still know that I will never be a teacher. The hours, the stress, I doubt I could find incredible amounts of joy in a job where I am always stressed--I failed to mention that I worked as a student teacher in both a middle and high school, and felt stress upon stress!
And so here I am. Working as an intern with my college's News and Media Department. I scan papers, I clip news articles, I put events on a calendar. I write press release after press release. And I feel empty. I need that light, that fulfillment.
I want to find joy in what I do. I hope that "paying my dues" as an intern will help me find my path. I hope that my writing might get noticed, I hope that I might discover a career that I truly love.
All I know for sure is that I will continue to search, and strive, and work, and hope. Who knows where I might end up!
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