Samantha Chaffin
Editor-in-chief
At the start of every new semester, I tend to lose my footing a bit.
By that, I don’t mean that I fall down more often (I fall enough as it is, believe me). What I mean is that I tend to lose the ever-elusive sense of direction I mentioned last week. This semester was no different.
On that note, what I’m about to write in many ways almost entirely contradicts what I said last week, to the dismay of my logic professor, I’m sure. Then again, since what I’m about to explain was a temporary lapse and took place at a different time, maybe it isn’t contradictory, after all. In any case, I digress.
Whenever new struggles arise or a new semester begins, I find myself questioning why I’m doing what I’m doing, as I did last week. This applies to everything from the most menial everyday-tasks to major life decisions.
In this case, as I looked through my degree plan to make sure I was on track (as I do at the start and end of each and every semester), I had to stop and ask myself, “Why am I pursuing a degree in liberal arts?”
To preface this, I should tell you that I’m that person who is constantly worrying about tomorrow instead of living in today.
That being said, the fact that I‘m going to graduate from college with a degree that doesn’t lead directly to any one specific job or career terrifies me beyond words. It leaves far too much to chance for someone like myself who plans her days and weeks out in ten-minute-increments months in advance.
So as the start of a new semester last week induced my ritual degree-plan check and review of “what’s left to do in order to graduate,” I found myself with a deep sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized that I will graduate in just over a year and I’m still not entirely sure what my next step will be post-graduation.
Should I pursue my teaching certificate as I’ve been contemplating? Do I really want to teach? Should I go to grad-school? What would I go to grad-school for? If I don’t continue going to school in one form or the other, what will I do? What do I even want?
I realize that to many people, my borderline-panic attack seems uncalled for, as I’m planning way too far ahead—and I completely agree with you. Unfortunately, it’s just what I do.
But, even though I spend most of my time panicking about the fact that I don’t have a clear-cut path carved out for me after graduation, once I stop to breathe, I realize that the same thing that scares me the most is also comforting— I don’t have any clear-cut path I have to follow. I can go wherever life takes me, or wherever I choose to take my life.
As I sat with that horrible sinking feeling in my stomach, I had to stop and remind myself that I’m not obligated or tied down by my degree, but rather I’m liberated because of it (get it, liberated? Because it’s a liberal arts degree? No? Okay, nevermind.).
I guess my point, in the most round-about way I could find to make it, is that I’m working to look at my “uncertain” future from a glass-half-full perspective and I encourage others who find themselves in similar states of panic to do the same.
