I volunteered on my first political campaign when I was five years old. Sure, it was for the District Attorney. Sure, my dad was the campaign manager. Even still, from the first time I held lawn signs at a standout and saw the celebratory balloons fall on Election Day, I was instantly hooked. Ever since, I have been invested in both politics and policy alike, striving to make a difference in the world around me.
I have started countless college essays, CIO applications and internship cover letters using the sentences above. My childhood obsession with politics encouraged me to volunteer for political campaigns as a teen and intern for the Sorensen Institute for Political Leadership at the University last year. I hoped this lifelong passion would blossom into a successful political career as a policy aide for members of the U.S. Congress. In my first real experience with Washington D.C. politics last summer, however, I discovered that my interest in this career path was quickly diminishing.
My summer internship experience prompted me to take more seriously the role of work-life balance, pay and company culture in building a career. After realizing how important these factors truly are to me, I spontaneously decided to ditch politics altogether for a post-grad business role. Replacing my old dreams of working on Capitol Hill with a fresh start working at Capital One has taught me that my previous ambitions do not confine me. Drastically changing paths, while intimidating, can be worth the risk.
As a double major in psychology and Political Philosophy, Policy & Law, my transcript showcases my interest in politics throughout my time at the University. Over the past year, however, my previous passion for this field has started to feel more like an obligation. My psychology courses — and English courses and film courses for that matter — were more interesting than my politics courses. On top of that, throughout my third year, I found myself dropping out of my political extracurriculars to free up time for other clubs.
But despite these warning signs, when it came time to apply to summer internships last spring, politics still seemed like the obvious choice — I had always planned to pursue it professionally. Too impatient to wait for the Capitol Hill internship recruiting process, which starts in the late spring, I took a government relations role at a D.C. think tank.
Going into the summer, I was eager to meet as many Hill staffers as possible to learn the ins and outs of life in D.C. So, I met with over 30 University alumni working on the Hill throughout the summer and gained insider knowledge. I was convinced that with each new person I met, my interest in working on the Hill would grow — but I was mistaken.
In place of the “West Wing”-esque stories I was anticipating, I spent the summer hearing stories of nightmarish bosses, extremely low pay, unpredictable hours and political animosity galore. Yet, at the end of the day, these staffers all loved it. Their passion for policy made the downsides of their careers worth it.
As they discussed their roles, however, I realized that I lacked this passion. The day-to-day responsibilities of their roles sounded boring to me, not invigorating. Researching a topic for weeks just to write a policy memo on a bill that will likely never pass is not my idea of a good time. And, even more importantly, I reminded myself that as an advocate for small government, I believe most of these issues should be addressed by state and local governments anyways.
Halfway through the summer, I came to the conclusion that I love thinking about politics, but I don’t want to live it. Poof! Just like that, my childhood vision “Grace Scott for U.S. Senate” was gone for good.
Let the new job search commence. From then on, my co-intern joked that I walked into work with a new dream career path every week, always finding some reason or another to count the previous idea out. After considering seemingly every career under the sun besides, like, taxidermy or paleontology, I reluctantly gave in to one of the most obvious options for most Hoos — business.
Because almost every one of my friends is in the Commerce school or an economics major, I have avoided business like the plague. I am the designated politics friend, after all. I couldn’t encroach on the world of vest-adorning finance guys and colorful slide decks — it just wasn’t my thing.
But then I decided that was dumb. My friends don’t own an entire career path. Who was I to tell myself I couldn’t do something just because they did? Being a contrarian is immature. Plus, I look good in vests. And how hard could it be to make a visually appealing slide deck anyways?
I typed Capital One into my web browser, for no reason other than it was the first company that popped into my head. I had a few friends that worked there in the past, and I knew they loved Hoos. The first open job I saw was “Business Analyst” with “all majors welcome to apply” written underneath in bold. It didn’t even require a cover letter. I thought to myself “Sure, I’ll throw my resume in the hat, why not.”
During every step of the recruiting process, I doubted my qualification for the role. When I passed the first round, I texted my mom, “They must take everyone to the next round.” After making it past the second round, I thought, “Wow, I really tricked them.” Once I finished my final round interview, I walked in my living room and told my roommates I really messed it up. But lo and behold, I received a job offer from Capital One just a short time later.
Despite all my initial misgivings, I have accepted a job as a Business Analyst at Capital One for after graduation. After touring the office last month, I loved everyone I met, I fit right into the culture and I am genuinely excited to get started.
I still have no idea how credit cards work, but I figure I’ll learn that along the way. I don’t know if I’ll love business. If I do, great. If I don’t, at least I’ll be in a place that builds me up rather than tears me down.
Unlike in the world of politics, the work will challenge my brain to solve new problems, rather than debate age-old ones. The hours will allow me to devote time to my family, friends and hobbies — all of which I care about much more than my career trajectory. And the pay — while it’s gauche to talk about — will allow me to save money, giving me a wider variety of opportunities in the future. You can call that selling out. I am perfectly okay with that.
This isn’t a story about how randomly qualified I was or how smart I am or how miraculously well the interview went. It’s the opposite story. I have no business experience, I learned what a case interview was a month before completing mine, and I still can’t name Porter's Five Forces.
Despite how unqualified you think you are or how far behind you feel or how badly you’re convinced the interview will go, give yourself a chance. If you are unhappy with your current route, take a new path, even if you consider yourself an outsider. Go in with your head held high, give it your best shot and see what happens. Maybe you’ll surprise yourself. Nobody is more surprised that I'm working at Capital One than me.
You are not locked into the career path you thought you wanted when you were 5, 15 or 21 years old. I will be a Business Analyst who majored in psychology and PPL, not economics or commerce. When I inevitably reminisce about college with my future coworkers, I will talk about the articles I wrote in the school newspaper, not my time as president of a business club. And during my lunch break, I will shamelessly psychoanalyze my coworkers while raving about the latest bill passed in Congress.
I’m perfectly happy with my post-grad plans. However, if one day, I find myself wanting a change, I’m not too worried about it. I can always pivot again.
Grace Scott is a Life Senior Associate for The Cavalier Daily. She can be reached at life@cavalierdaily.com.