That's about how long I have to figure out what the hell I'm doing with my life, apparently.
Mom and I got in a fight sort of thing the other night about my non-specific plans for my future, which as far as I can tell I'm more frustrated over than she is, only I don't want to yell about it. I just want to figure it out, and get going on it. Only I can't seem to pick anything.
What the fight boiled down to was I need to figure out what I'm going to do after I get out of college, and make sure I have a job as soon as I get out, *or* I'm going to start taking education classes at the end of this semester.
I have no idea why she's so convinced I *have* to become a teacher. Other than the "they're always hiring teachers" line she keeps feeding me. It's like she's the only person I know who can't see what a bad idea it'd be for me to be a teacher. I'm not loud enough, for one, no one listens to me, I'm not particularly fond of kids, and the idea of spending the rest of my life standing in front of a class room fills me with the kind of terror only people with stage fright can truly appreciate. We had a friend of the family visiting last year, from Boston, who was one of the teachers of the year there; brilliant, wonderful woman, and Mom tried to corner her into coaching me to become a teacher, and Lydia refused, trying to explain to Mom that she agreed with me. Not on the specifics, because I never got around to listing them right then, but Lydia just kind of knew.
Part of me thinks it's all just a "doctor or a lawyer" fantasy most parents must grow up with.
The thing is, I'd be happy to do anything if I could just pick something. I like history, and I'm reasonably good at it, so that's what I'm taking at college. I still want to be a writer, but it's become obvious to me over the years you need a day job to do the rest of the time, so I'm not even trying to go for an English major. Just a minor. When I took my archaeology class last summer it became apparent to me how much I like doing something with my hands. That would be a dream job if field archaeology paid more than six thousand dollars a year.
There's a guy at my college in charge of the rare book room, which looks like it's a brilliant job, but the last time I chatted with him Oxford was where you get Rare Book Preservation degrees, and I couldn't get a handle on what the demand/salary was for a Rare Book person (but doesn't that job sound awesome? You should have seen some of the books).
Part of me was thinking about perhaps going for some version of art and history, in the hopes of doing authentication work or restoration, but according to the History sites I've found that kind of work might be covered under general history, at least at a museum.
Dad is slightly less wound up about it. He's happy so long as I'm happy, but at the same time he poked fun at me the other week about choosing a major that's going to wind up with me living in a box.
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4 comments:
Next time I see you at the store remind me to talk to you about how to successfully market a humanities major. It's much more useful than you think; you just have to know how to sell it to a prospective employer.
So what is your major?
Unfortunately, the careers that you're talking about are so limited in terms of job options that you may as well be talking about playing in the women's NBA.
First off, though, you have to start thinking of yourself as an adult doing adult things and making adult plans. Your situation right now makes it too easy for you to perceive yourself as a child, and it casts you in a role with limited control over your own destiny.
I'm a history major, with english as a minor.
As someone who never had a career plan, I can offer some advice on working a regular job but still getting to do all the nifty things you want to do, but I'm too lazy to type it out, so we'll talk soon.
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