This week at our school, we are celebrating American Education Week. (Dear Reader, "celebrate" at a primary school means dress-up days, or you aren't doing it right.) Yesterday was Career Day -- as in your education will eventually help you build a life, so dress like a career you'd like some day.
The halls were filled with little doctors in scrubs, police officers in uniform, teachers (hilariously dressed in cardigans and glasses, just like many of their own teachers), firefighters in what was likely their Halloween costume.
One little girl came up to me and said, "Guess what I am, Dr. Clark." I studied her -- sneakers, leggings, a striped shirt and a sweater. I got nothing. She looked like a kid. Trying not to disappoint her, I said, "Are you an entrepreneur? That means you run your own business." Without missing a beat, she said, "Nope, I'm just a kid, Dr. Clark. It's not that deep."
Laughing, I gave her a hug and sent her on her way, little Confucius that she is. She's right, after all -- it's not that deep.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a nun when I grew up. Mind you, I did not grow up Catholic. I just thought this is what being a nun was like --
Spoiler alert -- it's not.
(Which maybe is a relief, considering the Nazis in Act 2, but I digress.)
When it came time for me to graduate high school and head off to college, I was undecided, before it was cool to go to college undecided. I knew I loved music, and I had been accepted at some schools for vocal performance, including Duquesne University. But I wasn't entirely sure. I also loved to read and write, and I had a suspicion that my tiny high school wasn't equipped to show me the potential opportunities out there. (I was right, and my meetings with the school counselor...oh, wait. I don't think I had any meetings with our school counselor. Or if I did, they weren't memorable enough to recall here.)
At one point, I remember my Dad saying, "Just pick something and do it, Denise. I've hated my job for 25 years." Sounds a little harsh, but his point was a job was something you do to provide for yourself and for your family one day. Certainly, working a job, no matter how much you disliked it, was an adult expectation. And plenty of people spent years in unfulfilling and even toxic workplaces out of obligation and duty to provide.
My intuition told me I could wish for something more, though I didn't yet have the mentors to guide me. I ended up taking a gap year before it was cool to take a gap year (read: I was practically a social influencer in the late 90s), then I foolishly followed a boy to Williamsport, where I attended beauty school after he dumped me. I did end up going to college for music for a year before changing my major to English Literature. I found my way into an English classroom, where I stayed for over a decade.
So much for being a nun.
Despite many people in my father's generation retiring from jobs after 35, 40, sometimes more years, these days, people tend to change careers 5-7 times in their lives, according to Novoresume. Even more so, approximately 30% of the workforce will change jobs every 12 months. The pandemic brought about the great resignation, as facing our own mortalities made us question the logic of spending the majority of our days burnt out, uninspired, or taken for granted. We started to question the phrase "earn a living," as if we aren't inherently entitled to one.
Now, none of this is to say we lack work ethic overall. Yes, we can all think of examples of lazy people who will cut every corner they can find, and examples of people who abuse systems of support. And it's true that the Company Man seems to be a dying breed (thank goodness). People, I believe, naturally want to work and create and build. It's just that the forms of our work look different these days, and maybe the "product" is a little less tangible these days.
Think about the little girl I told you about. Let's say she's 7 years old. In 11 years when she turns 18, how many college major options will she have? Ones that don't even exist yet, right? I could go down so many roads here, like examining how much pressure we place on educators to prepare kids for jobs that don't exist yet, or like critiquing how much power and influence we give to people who create technologies for us (cough, Elon Musk, cough).
But for now, let's not make it that deep. While I love encouraging children to think about the amazing, miraculous directions they could take what Mary Oliver calls their one wild and precious life, we also need to be fluid and flexible, and allow them to change their minds, or their majors, one day.
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