I’m ashamed to admit it, but in college I played the field — a lot — with many different majors. At first I was young and idealistic and thought my future lay in Computer Engineering. That dream soured when I discovered that Computer Engineers had to understand complicated mathematics like trigonometry, calculus, and advanced bistromathics. As it turns out, I am as well-adapted to numerical integration as giraffes are to flight.
I had to find a new, less math-intensive field of study. My fancy turned toward English Literature, but my father considered it an improper match. He pointed out that he had yet to see a want ad reading, “English major sought for serious leadership opportunity. Excellent benefits. Pay commensurate with experience. Non-smoker preferred. Must own boat.”
In short order I courted and abandoned several majors including accounting (the math thing again), journalism (they expected me to produce written documents on schedule and that so wasn’t me), exercise science (sweating for living also wasn’t me), business management (more math) and Political Science (which turned out to be a sneaky, dishonest name for “Pre-law”). After a while, I settled for Elementary Education.
As career preparation, Elementary Education had two things to recommend it. First, the courses were kind of fun because I got to spend a lot of time creating cool things for my hypothetical future classroom. Second, the female-to-male ratio among El Ed students was the mathematical inverse of that same ratio in Computer Engineering. And it turns out that the kind of idealistic young women who are attracted to careers in education are also attracted idealistic young men who profess to be attracted to careers in education.
Looking back, I could have used some career counseling. I committed to education readily enough and, for the first few years, I even worked as a teacher. My heart wasn’t in it and eventually I left teaching for management. To be honest with myself, I hadn’t been completely honest with myself in college. My infatuation was a hormonal imbalance that didn’t stand the test of time.
What I didn’t realize was that when choosing a career it’s important to think in the long term. Sure that Business Metrics class might have a good looking syllabus now, but how are you going to feel when you’re forty-five years old and it’s eleven at night and you still have to analyze the performance indicators for the West Coast Promotions Department? You’ll wish you’d chosen a more sympathetic career, one that really loved you back, one that didn’t drain the life out of you; something like “millionaire playboy”.
Of course there aren’t that many openings for that kind of position and thy all go to guys who are already millionaires. So, what you need to do in college, is take stock of yourself, your interests and abilities and match them to a suitable field of gainful employment.
For example, if you enjoy the outdoor life, like to take risks and have a low tolerance for stuffy classroom education, you might succeed as Whitewater Rafting Guide, Lumberjack, or Flagman on a highway construction project. Perhaps you hear the call of the sea and yearn for the freedom of your own command. Consider being an Alaskan Crab Fisherman, deck officer on an Oil Tanker or shift manager at Cap’n Billy’s Chowder House and Bait Shop. If your heart’s desire is to work in the exciting world of high finance … well, best to forget that one. Nobody’s hiring right now.
If selecting a career field is the equivalent of identifying a potential mate, then applying for a job is like asking for a first date. You have to start by doing everything possible to make yourself attractive. In the dating world this can include make-up, fitness training, or (in extreme cases) plastic surgery. When job-hunting it’s mostly a matter of getting the right credentials by way of training, education or (in extreme cases) stealing a diploma off some other person’s office wall.
The actual job interview is a lot like the date except that you mostly likely won’t get dinner and you definitely can’t expect a kiss afterwards. If you are chosen, the company proposes to you. Just like a marriage proposal, if you accept you’ll wind up with a new title and boatload of unexpected responsibilities. Which seems okay during that blissful honeymoon period just after you start a new job.
Sooner or later that will end; probably with an argument of some kind. In a marriage the argument will be over something trivial like the division of labor, whether or not you refilled the coffee maker or where the budget went. In a job it will be about something vital like your assigned responsibilities, whether or not you refilled the copier toner, and where the budget went.
You’ll weather that storm and you and your job will settle down somewhere; maybe in a cozy little branch office. Before long you’ll have a deliverable or two to call your own. You might even have a chance to adopt a new paradigm. As your personal brand grows and you gain a greater market share in the thought space of your organization, you and your job will move to bigger and better real estate. There will come a day when you’re comfortably ensconced in a position that matches your talents and you and your job can look forward to aging gracefully together.
After a decade or two you might even begin to take your job for granted; after all you’ve been together forever. Just be sure to stay focused on your current job and don’t let your thoughts stray to the job you could have had, that cute little job that still haunts your dreams from time to time. Sure you could give up your current job and go back to that other one, but then you’d just have to start over and, frankly, that sounds too much like work.
