College proposes a strange paradox. Students are encouraged to follow their dreams but are simultaneously warned about finding a fiscally-stable career path. While some are lucky to have dream jobs that are considered well-paid, others aren’t so fortunate.
Since childhood, my dream job was one of these three choices: teacher, writer, or artist. None of these professions have a reputation for being financially stable careers. Although I naturally gravitated towards the humanities and social sciences, a voice inside told me I should steer the other way.
I eventually entered an animal science magnet for high school, familiarizing myself with other potential career paths such as veterinary medicine. I was privileged to gain experience in animal husbandry at the Los Angeles Zoo, working with mountain tapirs, Amazonian river otters, and maned wolves. My goal by the end of my junior year was to attend UC Davis with a major in Animal Science. Yet, my gut kept telling me something was off.
It was right.
The biology and chemistry courses I was taking as a freshman made me feel miserable. It wasn’t necessarily the subject, but rather my feelings of displacement during lecture. It wasn’t me. I grew increasingly depressed, and by the end of my freshman year, my grades were so bad I was nearly dismissed from my “dream” school.
I decided to take action and switch my major to Gender, Sexuality, and Women studies with a minor in professional writing. Among the few GE classes I’ve taken during my first year at UC Davis, I kept enrolling into GSW classes because I wanted to learn more. It felt important and gave me a sense of purpose.
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Though the switch made me feel more comfortable in my skin, I now continue to struggle with internal doubt surrounding my career pursuit in writing. Am I good enough? Will I make money?
I often look at my peers in STEM and feel lesser about myself. Maybe if I’d stuck to animal science, my major would be taken seriously. Maybe I’d be able to bond over the same struggles of cramming for midterms instead of rushing essays.
I realize there will always be someone better at something that I’m passionate about. That doesn’t mean I should stop trying. Yes, being in animal science might have held a more promising future, but, at the same time, that cycle of thinking doesn’t matter anymore. The fact is that I would’ve been unhappy. I may have dropped out of school. I would’ve felt lost.
Pursuing a stereotypically low-income job is scary. I might be stuck living with a roommate and eating frozen dinners for the rest of my life. Even worse, I might not get the jobs I apply for. Planning ahead is good, but sometimes it’s better to live in the moment and use it to strengthen your assets.
Despite the fear and enduring doubt in my head, I remind myself how it’s all worth it because I’m happy. That’s what keeps me going.
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