Why are we expected to know what we want to do in life when we're 17?
"You will never be able to live on your own with that degree"
As a kid up until high school, this is what I heard from family members. Being a naïve 16 year old, I believed them. Both of my parents have respectable careers, one finishing nursing school and one working in oil. That being said, there was some pressure to join the healthcare or oil industry. The fun thing about that is I have no interest in either one, which was the unpopular opinion at dinner.
Fast forward a year: I'm majoring in Biology at Northwestern State University, which I started out very optimistic with. As the semester went on, I came to realize I actually had no clue what I wanted to be when I "grew up". I sat in my dorm room watching youtube videos about geology majors, and decided "I'll do that!".
I've always been drawn to environmental sciences and history. Sadly my dream job of being an anthropologist would leave me living with my parents when I was 40. Seriously, how could Ross Gellar have it so easy with the dinosaur thing in New York? Give me that life. This time of my life would be the all time low for me. I had false dreams in my head, thinking I would be a geologist and working in the field, like Indiana Jones, but replace the artifacts with rocks and soil. I began to resent going to classes; hearing people know exactly what they wanted didn't help me. The only person who could help me was me.
Fast forward 5 months: I apply for a job at the local aquarium to be an educator. When I was little, I remember saying I wanted to be a marine biologist. This dream was crushed by people telling me that wasn't an option, since I was terrified of the ocean (logical fear). 18 year old me thought this was a sign, so I applied, with slim thinking I would get it. 2 weeks later, I had my initial interview, and was hired immediately.
Fast forward 1 month: I'm arrive at work 30 minutes early, just to make sure New Orleans traffic didn't ruin my perfect day. I walk in threw the security doors, pretending I know where I'm going. The 30 minutes ended up being a life saver, as I got lost about 10 times. I eventually made it to the educator's lounge with 10 minutes to spare, still okay. I found my office, which was basically a closet with two desks that I would share with 3 people, and saw my new supervisor. Skip passed the awkward hello's of teh10+ staff I met in those short 10 minutes, and I was on the floor. I followed around my trainer, soaking in as much information as I could about the facility and animals around me. Soon it was time for the penguin feeding, which I got to watch first hand. This is where I would soon meet three of my bestfriends working with me, lets call them J, H, and B. In the miniscule 3 hours I had been working, I knew these were my people.
Fast forward 2 months: I'm giving chats about animals, walking around the aquarium with snakes and turtles, and genuinely loving my life. This is also the time in my life that I figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up. Helping B and J with feeding jellyfish, working along side H as we gave chats about our sea otters, and finally being able to geek out with people like me who care about the environment and the life surrounding it.
Fast forward to now: I have realized that money isn't everything. I know how cliché that sounds, but when you finally figure out that it's true, you'll feel better. I know that I won't be making 6 figures with environmental science, as I would with oil or healthcare. This is to the people in the same situation as me, feeling pressured by friends and family that you should conform to what others are doing around you. This is for the teaching majors, history, and everything else that isn't considered normal. In the long run, i'd rather wake up to an awesome job that I loved than dreading going into a money-making job, being miserable. Call me a millennial or entitled, that's fine, at least I'm Happy.
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