I had a scary experience while watching TV the other day. It was a commercial for the Army that did it. What scared me was not the picture of the general with chapped lips leading his expedition up a steep, snow-covered mountain range, but my realization that, for a moment, I actually considered enlisting.
This past fall, I wrote about the many dreams I had for post-Dartmouth life. Now reality is beginning to sink in. Suddenly, I'm a lot less excited and a lot more afraid. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not meant to be in the Army. I need the freedom to question authority, to pick out my own clothes, to leave my bed unmade for the day. Not to mention my skepticism about the current military build-up.
So why would I even half-heartedly consider signing up? Because at least if I joined the Army I would have a set plan. Because my post-graduation future (also known as "the rest of my life") is unknown, and I'm scared.
The career counselors say: "Whatever you end up doing next year is not going to be what you do for the rest of your life! So don't worry!" Yes, I know the statistics that the average person will have six to 10 different jobs in his/her lifetime. That's encouraging -- but I still have to find job number one.
The older sister says: "I had to move back home right after college -- I didn't have a job until July! So don't worry!" She adds that I and all my peers have been on a set trajectory for many years now -- high achievers in high school, then on to Dartmouth. But after the Ivy League education, what's the next rung on the ladder? What's the next step to "success"? This is what college seniors have to figure out, my sister says. In other words, she understands and she'll commiserate, but she won't provide any answers.
The friends say: "But we're all in the same boat! So don't worry!" Except we're not in the same boat together -- we're steering in our own directions. And many of my friends have a much clearer idea of where they're headed, whether that be law school or med school or the big bucks of the financial world.
The mother says: "It took me 20 years to realize what I was truly interested in! So don't worry!" Sorry Mom, but I'm not comforted by the idea that I could be wandering around this "not sure what to do with my life" purgatory for another 20 years. Plus, my mom got married right after college; she and my father navigated through the start of real-world life together.
The father says: "Shouldn't you be starting to worry about finding a job?"
Not that I mean to be complaining -- I know how fortunate I am to have a future with so many options and opportunities. Which is just one more reason why it's important to me that I find a life's work that takes advantage of my advantages.
It's not so much that I want someone to offer me a job, although that would be nice. What I want is someone to tell me what I should do with my life. What am I meant to do? Who am I meant to be? I'm looking for someone who can give me the answers, but I don't think this person exists.
This piece of advice just in: "It's all about how you present yourself," this person tells me. If you sound confident and upbeat about your future, you'll start to believe it. Sort of like the "Whistle a Happy Tune" lesson from "The King and I."
I'm going to take a slightly different tactic and write what I really feel -- I'm scared about my future. I still believe there are bright and exciting things down the road, I'm just not sure how to begin finding them. Or maybe I do know how to find them, it's just that taking this first step toward the rest of my life is overwhelming. But while I sweat it out, I'm going to try to resist the lure of trading in my uncertainty for a pair of camouflage pants.
