My story:
Since junior high I wanted to be a sports writer. While I was a mediocre athlete, no, it wasn’t the last resort for staying close to the sports I loved. I loved to write and sport interested me more than politics, or business, or medicine. Teachers told me from elementary school that I should develop my writing ability, and in junior high I learned where the UofMichigan and Detroit Red Wings stories in the Battle Creek Enquirer came from. That was going to be me. And then we moved to Minnesota and I discovered Patrick Reusse and Dan Barreiro. I digress. Anyway…
Through high school I wrote up a storm. Edited the student paper, did some work with a local radio station. I headed off to Syracuse University and studied journalism at one of the best J-schools in the country. Anybody asked, I was going to be a sports writer. Move up the ladder. Cover preps, then colleges, then pros, then write columns and fend off death threats. However, signs popped up every now and again that there was more to life than work. Few people live their work like journalists, and I was prepared for that. Didn’t bother me at all. Then again, I thought about majoring in music (jazz director said music will always be there for you, but if you have a Ph.D. in performance and still suck, you won’t get any gigs) or philosophy (while working at the student paper and getting internships, parents said no) or something else.
Nope. Forged ahead. Got my newspaper and psychology degrees with a 2.2, effectively making the decision for me regarding grad school. Worked at papers out in the sticks and a couple on the fringes of metro areas. Never really moved up the ladder. Won a handful of state awards and one national award. But I loved working at newspapers and couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
Meanwhile, I dated a girl with a Bachelors in world history and a Masters in arts administration, a girl who was doing nothing related to those, which absolutely blew my mind. I spent a lot of our two years together playing shrink and career counselor. This experience was an eye-opener for a lot of reasons, most notably being close to someone who had no clue what she wanted to do. She said college was a place to grow and experience things and do all sorts of other lofty things. I said college is where you go to learn to make a living. She countered with, “If you want to do that go to tech school.” That’s it.
Suddenly it all made sense. Journalism is not a profession, it’s a trade. College was an unbelievable waste of time for me because I already knew what I wanted to do but I had to sit in this damned holding pen for four years (thankfully it took that long and not longer) and take stupid biology and sociology while the world kept spinning. I should have followed through on my threat to major in philosophy while getting internships and such. My Syracuse journalism degree opened some doors for me, to be sure, but at what cost? My cynicism about careers, that’s what the cost was.
This probably doesn’t help you at all, Izzy. I’m no longer in newspapers but I’m still in the storytelling business. I don’t use anything I learned in the classroom, another sore spot in my feelings about college. I just wish I could have been rewarded for my foresight with less time in the classroom, or maybe my desired moves up the ladder. All this said, I’m in the right place right now. I’m exactly where I should be, and I don’t regret anything I did up to now. The key for me was finding something I loved early on, then getting in a position to get paid to do it. It’s hard for me to relate to anyone who hasn’t figured it out yet (part of the reason I don’t want to have kids), so all I can do is wish you the best of luck. It seems like you already have the answers for yourself, so just keep doing what you’re doing and things will become clear. Be in the moment. Trust in the zen. or something. 