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Alternate Title: Career Fairs Always Terrified Me
I've had this post written for a long time now, but it seemed particularly relevant now that career/ volunteer fairs are popping up and graduation looms on the horizon for many of my dear friends.
I graduated from college with absolutely no solid plan about what I wanted to do, or where I wanted to go from there. During my time at Notre Dame, I was involved in about 2342 different activities and loved them all, so I don't think this was a matter of me being uninterested. If anything, I felt like I had TOO many options (Note to any guidance counselor: The phrase "Oh but honey, you can do anything you want" can be terrifying/ very misleading.)
I had totally immersed myself in my undergrad experience, pursuing things I loved and overloading on credits every semester because I just wanted to learn it all, do it all, embrace it all. And then all of a sudden graduation was fast approaching and I realized that I had spent so much time immersed in my undergrad life that I hadn't really considered how these interests could translate into something after graduation. At one point I considered applying to law school because I can read fast, I'm good at arguing, and I could probably do decent on the LSAT, and why not. Note: this is a horrible horrible way of discerning, imho. I remember hastily applying to service programs literally days before graduation (Read: during senior week, my dear Notre Dame friends). I had to have something to do, something to tell people at all the grad parties!
I was afraid.
I didn't have a "label" for what I was doing. My life plan didn't fit under a convenient headline. It seemed as if all my friends had labels: medical school, grad school, law school. Year of service, Peace Corps. Consultant, engineer, teacher, architect.
I didn't have a label, and that frightened me.
For a while, I could brush the questions off, because I was recovering from heart surgery, and that, my friends, is a job unto itself. But once I was healthy enough(ish) to work, I didn't have a convenient label, a post-grad plan that fit into a convenient description.
I felt the need to explain myself to so many people.
I was constantly afraid that my friends would judge me for not having the job they had, or for not doing the same thing they were doing. Really, I was judging myself; I was comparing myself to others. But when I really thought about it, I didn't want that engineering job my best friend had. I had zero desire to go to law school, and the thought of going to grad school immediately after four academically intense years made me want to cry.
Something had to change.
I had to come to terms with the fact that my label didn't look like anyone else's, and that was okay. I also had to realize that by labeling my friends by their jobs and post-grad accomplishments, I was severely compartmentalizing my friends' experiences. I was essentially denying the fact that our lives are in a constant state of discernment. Trust that.
So I decided to stop caring so much about labels. It wasn't doing anyone any good. I found things I loved, and I pursued them. I taught. I coached middle school track and started a running club (who knew?!). I took classes every weekend at a school 3 hours away and became a Certified Nursing Assistant. I took science classes down the road at the local community college. I worked on the weekends at a hiking store. I house sat. I dog sat. I nannied. I got to come back to Notre Dame's campus every summer and work for Notre Dame Vision. I lived, I learned, I grew.
I know hindsight is 20-20, and I realize that writing about all this crazy stuff while it was happening would probably sound more genuine, but I just wasn't there yet. I hadn't realized what I was doing at the time. Letting go of the need to label everything allowed me to see my life in a continuum. It allowed me to weave together my strengths, my interests, and my goals in a way that made sense to me. It allowed me the freedom to discern based on passion and curiosity, not based on fear and self-doubt.
It's okay to have a label for what you're doing.
And it's okay if you don't.
Because ultimately, that's not what defines us.
Take a deep breath (or two, or three...)
Pray about it, run about it, talk about it, figure out what makes you shine.
You're good. You're fine. You're okay.
You'll figure it out, all in due time.
In the mean time though, know that:
1. I. get. it.
2. I'm cheering you on.
3. I'm praying for you.
Edit: 9 September 2015 (because I love this book and this quote is relevant):
“I blame the Internet. Its inconsiderate inclusion of everything.Success is transparent and accessible, hanging down where it can tease but not touch us. We talk into these scratchy microphones and take extra photographs but I still feel like there are just SO MANY PEOPLE. Every day, 1,035.6 books are published; sixty-six million people update their status each morning. At night, aimlessly scrolling, I remind myself of elementary school murals. One person can make a difference! But the people asking me what I want to be when I grow up don't want me to make a poster anymore. They want me to fill out forms and hand them rectangular cards that say HELLO THIS IS WHAT I DO.”
-Marina Keegan, The Opposite of Loneliness
Alternate Title: Career Fairs Always Terrified Me
I've had this post written for a long time now, but it seemed particularly relevant now that career/ volunteer fairs are popping up and graduation looms on the horizon for many of my dear friends.
I graduated from college with absolutely no solid plan about what I wanted to do, or where I wanted to go from there. During my time at Notre Dame, I was involved in about 2342 different activities and loved them all, so I don't think this was a matter of me being uninterested. If anything, I felt like I had TOO many options (Note to any guidance counselor: The phrase "Oh but honey, you can do anything you want" can be terrifying/ very misleading.)
I had totally immersed myself in my undergrad experience, pursuing things I loved and overloading on credits every semester because I just wanted to learn it all, do it all, embrace it all. And then all of a sudden graduation was fast approaching and I realized that I had spent so much time immersed in my undergrad life that I hadn't really considered how these interests could translate into something after graduation. At one point I considered applying to law school because I can read fast, I'm good at arguing, and I could probably do decent on the LSAT, and why not. Note: this is a horrible horrible way of discerning, imho. I remember hastily applying to service programs literally days before graduation (Read: during senior week, my dear Notre Dame friends). I had to have something to do, something to tell people at all the grad parties!
I was afraid.
I didn't have a "label" for what I was doing. My life plan didn't fit under a convenient headline. It seemed as if all my friends had labels: medical school, grad school, law school. Year of service, Peace Corps. Consultant, engineer, teacher, architect.
I didn't have a label, and that frightened me.
For a while, I could brush the questions off, because I was recovering from heart surgery, and that, my friends, is a job unto itself. But once I was healthy enough(ish) to work, I didn't have a convenient label, a post-grad plan that fit into a convenient description.
I felt the need to explain myself to so many people.
I was constantly afraid that my friends would judge me for not having the job they had, or for not doing the same thing they were doing. Really, I was judging myself; I was comparing myself to others. But when I really thought about it, I didn't want that engineering job my best friend had. I had zero desire to go to law school, and the thought of going to grad school immediately after four academically intense years made me want to cry.
Something had to change.
I had to come to terms with the fact that my label didn't look like anyone else's, and that was okay. I also had to realize that by labeling my friends by their jobs and post-grad accomplishments, I was severely compartmentalizing my friends' experiences. I was essentially denying the fact that our lives are in a constant state of discernment. Trust that.
So I decided to stop caring so much about labels. It wasn't doing anyone any good. I found things I loved, and I pursued them. I taught. I coached middle school track and started a running club (who knew?!). I took classes every weekend at a school 3 hours away and became a Certified Nursing Assistant. I took science classes down the road at the local community college. I worked on the weekends at a hiking store. I house sat. I dog sat. I nannied. I got to come back to Notre Dame's campus every summer and work for Notre Dame Vision. I lived, I learned, I grew.
I know hindsight is 20-20, and I realize that writing about all this crazy stuff while it was happening would probably sound more genuine, but I just wasn't there yet. I hadn't realized what I was doing at the time. Letting go of the need to label everything allowed me to see my life in a continuum. It allowed me to weave together my strengths, my interests, and my goals in a way that made sense to me. It allowed me the freedom to discern based on passion and curiosity, not based on fear and self-doubt.
It's okay to have a label for what you're doing.
And it's okay if you don't.
Because ultimately, that's not what defines us.
Take a deep breath (or two, or three...)
Pray about it, run about it, talk about it, figure out what makes you shine.
You're good. You're fine. You're okay.
You'll figure it out, all in due time.
In the mean time though, know that:
1. I. get. it.
2. I'm cheering you on.
3. I'm praying for you.
Edit: 9 September 2015 (because I love this book and this quote is relevant):
“I blame the Internet. Its inconsiderate inclusion of everything.Success is transparent and accessible, hanging down where it can tease but not touch us. We talk into these scratchy microphones and take extra photographs but I still feel like there are just SO MANY PEOPLE. Every day, 1,035.6 books are published; sixty-six million people update their status each morning. At night, aimlessly scrolling, I remind myself of elementary school murals. One person can make a difference! But the people asking me what I want to be when I grow up don't want me to make a poster anymore. They want me to fill out forms and hand them rectangular cards that say HELLO THIS IS WHAT I DO.”
-Marina Keegan, The Opposite of Loneliness
This is so me. Sometimes I wish I was more of a one-trick pony than a jack-of-all-trades. Telling someone they can do or be whatever they want is useless unless you are willing and able to help them discover what that is.
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