A student visits the Center for Careers, Life, and Service (CLS) with tears in their eyes as they share in dismay: “I have no idea what I want to do with my life!” With the help of a few colleagues, my goal for this article is to bring a bit of comfort and reassurance to this student, and all students, who may be questioning their professional aspirations.
TL;DR . . . you don’t have to have it all figured out. 🙂
As you bunker down to study for your exams or work tirelessly on final papers and projects, it’s only natural for your mind to wander to thoughts of life after hitting the final submit button. This can feel like a heavy burden, so I’d like to provide support and remind you that whether you’re embarking on your first college summer, crossing the commencement stage, or somewhere in between, it’s okay to maybe not know what the future holds.
Of course, the first part of believing this is acknowledging that you and I exist in a society and culture that tend to say otherwise. Our economic system, which calls for constant productivity, doesn’t allow much time for rest and reflection. Instead, it tends to disguise its motives as so-so advice, such as “Finding your passion is the key to your success.” Or the classic, “If you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life.” While these sentiments may encourage you to seek meaningful employment, they put immense pressure on finding the perfect major, internship, and career that somehow encompasses everything you’ve ever been interested in or passionate about. Plus, it paints a harmful illusion that your career is the most crucial vessel to channel who you are and how you want to contribute to the world.
Following your dreams is so important—but the confines of full-time employment will never be able to contain the bounds of your heart and mind.
In addition to this larger narrative, you’re faced with the underlying assumption that you must figure out your life in four years, graduating and entering the workforce with an unwavering sense of self and professional identity. The truth is, four years is not enough time to discover everything you have yet learned about yourself. This long-standing belief and the human nature of comparing yourself to others foster great overwhelm and extreme stress. In fact, Inside Higher Ed’s annual Student Voice Survey found that job and internship searches were the top result for students attending a private institution when asked, “What are your biggest sources of stress in college?” Therefore, you’re not alone.
While this may be comforting, it still doesn’t diminish the fear of knowing so many factors are outside your control: the job market, federal funding, applicant competition, who’s hiring when you’re ready to start searching, and many others. However, this shouldn’t discourage you but rather provide a sound of reason when your thoughts lead to thinking that somehow you’re the problem. Although I haven’t quantified this, I feel pretty confident in saying that you attend an institution full of students who tend to put a lot of pressure on themselves to be the best or the brightest or do a million-and-one things to stand out. This drive and ambition are amazing gifts; Grinnell and the world are better as a result. Still, the fear of doing something wrong or off a singular trajectory sometimes keeps you from learning the most interesting and worthwhile things about yourself.
“Your path is not pre-determined—you build it each day as you choose how to invest your attention. You can change this anytime by turning back, reflecting, and moving toward something new. I often tell my students that it’s not their job to close any doors, and what I mean is that sometimes the best opportunities are ones you couldn’t possibly predict. Run toward what feels right.”
Destini Ross, Associate Director of the Arts, Media, & Communications Career Community
As a Grinnellian, you may have started your first year already feeling behind, and I have to wonder—behind for what? Remember, it’s unfair to ask yourself to have your life plan set by graduation. Honestly, it’s probably my professional duty to inform you that no one has their life figured out, at least not really. Your life, and your sense of self, are not machines to be programmed but rather blank canvases for you to turn into an ever-evolving reflection of the world around you and within you. The ticking clock you’ve internalized regarding your future was set in motion long before you came to campus, a timeline that never accounted for your individual preferences, freedoms, realities, and the learning and unlearning of the cultural conditioning around you.
You might say that’s all fine and dandy, but what about financial security? What about working toward a position that makes my time at Grinnell, a particularly rigorous institution, worth it? What about all the noise I hear about spending 90,000 hours in a career and not wanting to hate every minute? I want this for you, too, I promise! But I encourage you to think perhaps a little differently about what it may feel like to get there, what it looks like to you and others, and also to question the notion that there truly is one final destination.
“Embrace opportunities that come before you while leaning into your given strengths and developing transferable skills. As a farm girl in South Dakota, I never could have imagined my career in higher education across the United States. While in college, I gained journalism, public relations, and leadership skills while involved in student life. I was a lifestyle editor at a newspaper for eight months and then started graduate school in counseling and student affairs in higher education. My writing, marketing, and public speaking skills are ever present in my work, yet the counseling skills I gained in graduate school have truly allowed me to be the fellowship advisor I am. Careful listening and thoughtfulness toward others are strengths I carry with me every day. So lean into who you are, and you will discover your place in the world.”
Ann Landstrom, Assistant Dean & Director of Global Fellowships & Awards
What if, instead of thinking that graduating from college is the finish line, you embrace the idea that it’s just the beginning of your professional life? Perhaps, for the very first time, you’re in the driver’s seat—you get to choose what happens next. For many with the privilege of knowing that college was the next phase after high school, it can feel particularly unsettling not to have a set of rules and guidelines to guarantee what comes after Grinnell. School equates structure, which can be beneficial to so many. Yet, this same system engrains the ideology that if you get high marks, achieve certain accomplishments, and participate in various activities, then you’ll be successful. This has, likely, proven true for you.
But what happens when you start equating your value, worth, and success with the external validation of being a good student? You might begin shifting that mindset to your career aspirations—finding the most prestigious internship, declaring the most financially lucrative degree (with foiled attempts to triple major), or beating yourself up with shame when college exposes you to new ideas, sowing doubt about your professional goals. This is such a real and, at times, excruciating feeling; one that I’ve seen expressed countless times in my role. So, how about, ever so slowly, you challenge the belief that your next phase after Grinnell is the defining element of your significance in the world?
You may feel like you’re racing toward the same goal as your peers, but you’re actually on your own journey. It’s okay that your paths look different.
This may not come naturally or easily to you. It may not even be a thought until years later when you realize for the first time that your love and hobby of learning about dinosaurs may be more than a pastime after all. Or, on the other hand, you come to understand that your painting skills are best honed as a creative outlet and not through the limits of graphic design. These are some of the zillion-and-three things you might discover with time, experience, mistakes, heartache, laughter, and “ah-ha” moments. Errors and redirections aren’t bad, and I’m sorry you’ve learned otherwise—mistakes are some of the most profound learning lessons you have, just how failure is merely a measure of trying, a celebration of putting yourself in a new space.
“Try stuff. Work and life are all about experiential learning. I didn’t know I liked pancakes until I tasted those little circles of golden deliciousness. Read. Talk to people. Ask questions. Get experience (volunteer, work, intern, shadow). Follow your curiosities, take some risks, test drive your ideas, do some earnest reflection, and you’ll uncover all kinds of opportunities.”
Mark Peltz, Daniel & Patricia Jipp Finkelman Dean
I’ll conclude with a caveat that I’m not suggesting you’ll only stumble upon your career after college; I’m merely encouraging you to use your time at Grinnell to pursue multiple paths, learn what you like and don’t like, and challenge the idea that you must harness everything that makes you, you, into a job. It may not feel like it, but your time at Grinnell is quite brief. So, I hope you’ll take advantage of this unique moment of exploration and perhaps, one day, look forward to the possibilities that await you. Learning and discovery are not just for the classroom, but an inherent right as a human being and citizen of life. You’ll find your way in the world, but you don’t have to do it on your own—my wonderful colleagues at the CLS and I are here to support you!
