Picture this: you’re 18 years old, and you’re a senior in high school. You’re filling out your college applications, and they’re asking you to select a major. The subtext? You need to pick a major, and oh wait — you also need to decide on a career. Right now. And don’t even think about changing your mind, because that will set you behind … forever.
I was admitted to UCLA as a business economics major. I was actually 19, so naturally, I felt far more mature than all of the youngsters around me who had no idea what they were doing with their lives. I walked around campus head held high. I was in a major that was going to set me up for success, and I knew exactly where I was going.
Well, not exactly. My first quarter freshman year, I found myself struggling in my very first major course. Embarrassed, because I excelled in the AP Economics courses I took in high school, I rejected every emotion I was feeling. Confusion, dread, disinterest — I shoved it all down. I barely scraped by with a passing grade, but I convinced myself that the more interesting, niche economics classes that were coming would be better. News flash, they weren’t. No matter how badly I thought I wanted to be an economics major, I was practically dragging myself to the library to study. Strangely, I didn’t feel that way with my other classes. I poured all of my energy into economics, and somehow my grades weren’t reflecting that effort. It took me having to take accounting to realize that it was finally time to trust my gut and move on. For over a year, I had been dreaming of all of the possibilities: political science, English, psychology, public affairs, even art. The day I officially became a psychology major, I told my mom, “It feels like a thousand pounds have been lifted from my shoulders.” The anguish was finally over.
My point in telling my story is that I know that there is a large group of students walking around UCLA, dreading their major classes, feeling unfulfilled and, quite frankly, not very excited for their future. They blame themselves, convinced that they should have known better or that it’s frivolous to want to prioritize feeling fulfilled in their area of study over the job security it will provide. They also feel invisible. They feel like nobody understands the turmoil that they’re experiencing.
On college campuses, UCLA included, there is a clear inclination to support students who are on some kind of set trajectory. Maybe that’s just because they’re easier to help. Regardless, many of the resources provided are professional development-oriented, aimed at those pursuing traditional career paths in fields like business, law or medicine. Students exploring a nonlinear path are left behind.
What I think they — the universities and the students — don’t understand is that having tunnel vision doesn’t always have as large of a payout as you may think. The box-checking limits the possibilities that college has to offer — the chance to reflect, reassess and reconsider what we want in life. College is more than a job training program. Class selection doesn’t always have to be so utilitarian. And being undecided doesn’t have to mean you’re noncommittal.
Despite feeling content in my major, I still consider myself to be undecided — just from a career point of view. As a natural planner, coming to terms with that was difficult for me. To the other planners out there struggling to envision their lives too far out in the future, I see you. I understand your desire to “get on track.” But what I want to tell you is that you do not need to get on any track you don’t want to be on. Appreciate the flexibility you have to explore your options, and know that you’ll be a more well-rounded person because of it. At the end of the day, the ones who take their time — to explore, to question, to move at their own pace — will always end up the most fulfilled in life.
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Feature Illustration generated via ChatGPT