Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Figuring Out What You Want to Do With Your Life: Part One

I'm not really sure when I first became a cynic. In fourth grade I had crush on a boy in my class who wanted to play for the NBA. At nine years old, I didn't believe this dream would come true, so when I drew a picture of our wedding...I made him a cop. We fell out of touch (and I out of puppy love) but last I heard, he was playing basketball for a respected team in college. I'm happy he had the faith in his dream to pursue it.


As for me, well, I never was a kid who knew what she wanted to be when she grew up. Sure, when I was little there were things I wanted to be, but the dreams got shot down repeatedly. When I was very little, I wanted to be a cowgirl. There are some family photos my sister think ought to embarrass me where I am dressed to the western nines, strumming a guitar, with my stuffed pony next to me. I'm not embarrassed by them though. They take me back to a time when I could have been anything I wanted when I grew up. In kindergarten, we had an assignment to draw ourselves in our dream occupation. My teacher complimented my drawing, but was sorry to inform me that cowgirls didn't exist anymore. Thus died my first dream.

Very well, if I couldn't be a cowgirl, I would be a zoo keeper. Then I learned that zoo keepers are one of those jobs that seem awesome as a kid and in reality involve a lot more monotony and cleaning then you realize. As my interest in what I like to call "real" science waned, I wanted to work in an aquarium, be a landscape architect, join the navy, become a puppeteer, be a park ranger, design museum exhibits, and even had a brief interest in being a nun. I hear being a nun/priest is something all Catholic children entertain for a varying length of time. Mine was for about a week after watching The Bells of Saint Mary's. I ended up realizing I could never survive that vow of silence thing.

Before long, I was looking down the row of graduates at my high school graduation and had decided to pursue a degree in history. I had been advised, "Do what you love and the job will come to you." Well, perhaps if you love being a nurse or a lawyer or teacher. A professor once told one of my history classes, "You do know you are the starving artist of academia, right?" There was that catchy Facebook group, "I picked a major I like and someday I will be living in a box." It was plenty funny until the degree was in your hand and the bank's hand was in your face looking for loan repayments.

To be continued.

1 comment:

  1. You're teacher is wrong, of course there are still cowgirls. They just all live in Wyoming. And Pleasanton, TX according to the "Birthplace of the cowboy" billboard that is there when you enter the town.

    Also, I happen to love being a zookeeper. Despite the cleaning and the monotony. Everyone always tells me they'd love to work with animals, but when I offer to have them come over and work for free cleaning up Hannah's giant poops, no one seems to want to make the effort to get started on the path to animal caretaker-dom.

    When I was little, I wanted to be a paleontologist, until I realized that the dinosaurs weren't coming back to life anytime soon. Sigh.

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