I am en route to San Francisco for a job interview, sifting through the pages of “The Defining Decade” by Meg Jay. Some might venture to say that I’m preparing to enter the real world. Meanwhile, I have Lorde’s “mainstream-society-can-shove-it” lyrics buzzing in my ears. Which perspective resonates more: the audio or the visual? Well, try listening to a catchy song the next time you read for class; wait until you realize you’ve been mouthing the words and can’t remember a single sentence the author wrote.
In reality, I find myself trapped in this perpetual paradox, and I like to think I am not alone. Some days I wake up determined to go outside the bounds of what’s expected — hey, I’ll go WWOOF on a vineyard in Italy for three months, talk about a life experience that no one else will understand (see fellow trustee Carrie Capps’ article, “Did I mention I was abroad?”). Other days I hop out of bed, snag a Starbucks and scour CavLink for the latest job opportunities. Maybe I’ll even dial up a networking call if I’m feeling ambitious. That is after all, what got me on this plane in the first place. Then I think: am I going to San Francisco because I want the job, or did I sign up for the red-eye simply because I had an itch to go out west? It was a little bit of both, honestly.
During my layover in Atlanta, Delta offered a $600 voucher to anyone willing to switch flights. Half of me yelps at the chance to snag the ticket even though I would cut it close to being on time for my interview (NB: this voucher could pay for my spring break ticket or the post-grad European excursion I have no way of financing at the moment). Somehow, the majority of my willpower restrains that free-flying wannabe.
The reason I want to do something “different” could simply be that I am afraid I’ll never measure up to my friends who chose the “right” path. Like everyone else, I use my friends as a reference point whether I like it or not. Do I feel a little behind when people talk about the incredible offers they’ve already accepted? Sure. Am I afraid that I might not garner as prestigious a name on my resume? That too. You do, after all, have to tell people what your job is about 2,014 times before you graduate. Pride matters, arguably too much.
At this point in our lives, I would argue that it’s not the path we choose that is important, but that we choose a path in the first place. Delaying the launch of our post-grad identities won’t get us anywhere. Some readers may think I’m just some indecisive introspectionist. But understanding where you are now and your motivations for where you want to be will allow you to learn from whichever experiences you pursue.
Mike Rusie is a fourth-year trustee.