The other week I was walking down Lexington Avenue and witnessed the following scene: a child stood with trepidation in front of an adult. She shyly shifted from one foot to the other as the woman asked one harmless, yet infamous question: “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Her face instantly brightened as she excitedly rambled of her dreams to be an actress on television.
Yes, I admit it. I am jealous. I too, once upon a time, wished I could be on Broadway. However, her innocent response is not my point of contention. I am envious of her boundless dreams and her naïveté. When we are young, we are encouraged to dream. We are told that if we really believe, and if we really set our mind to something, then life can present endless potential. Our imaginations are free to wander boundlessly. As children, our future is presented in front of us as an empty canvas. We may paint the canvas any color we choose, we may paint outside the lines, and our creativity is lauded. No restrictions. No inhibitions.
Although I have shifted from my ambitions to be on Broadway, I find that this juncture of my life is filled with uncertainty and excitement. Unlike a small child, the matters of my future are directly in my hands. In Stern, I have the resources and abilities to actualize my professional aspirations, whatever they may be. Every door seems to be wide open and beckon me to venture into a world that once seemed distant. I can turn any dream into a reality.
However, I currently find myself in limbo. Upon entering college, I hoped that my professional plans would fall into place, that I would be in an encouraging environment that fosters my intellectual passions and future goals. I am quickly learning that although the institution itself is supportive, I am at odds with the overall communal sentiment regarding careers. Every day I enter the revolving glass doors of Stern to a place of boundless opportunities, but I am plagued by one word: practicality.
I am quickly learning to maneuver through a world of paradox. The idealist in me struggles to break free and pursue whatever my heart desires. I want every opportunity to be available. Yet, this concept of practicality follows me wherever I go. Aside from already feeling in the minority amongst the throngs of health-related majors, I am under the impression that everyone has an immediate plan for after they graduate. And that plan points in the direction of a career that seems to perfectly accommodate the working woman with a family… and of course, is completely practical.
When people confront me regarding my major and career ambitions (as if the two were synonymous), I now know to expect the same pity-filled glance. I receive the same tireless and presumptuous responses. “So, what do English or History majors actually do after college?”
“Law school may be a viable option for you. But you know, lawyers work such late hours…”
“You plan on having a family and a full time career? Well, that seems like a stretch.”
Currently, I am majoring in English Literature, with a possible double major in History. These both may seem like impractical majors, as they do not seem to develop vocational skills that directly correspond to a given career. However, my decision to study these subjects stems from my genuine interest in literature, passion for writing, and fascination of studying the unfolding of historical events. I am using my college experience to foster my intellectual interests. I have possible options for career interests that may, or may not, utilize any of these passions. I view my college experience as an opportunity to take advantage of the academic resources available. I am not ignoring the importance of finding a career post-college, but the career I choose should correspond with my interests. So, whether I ultimately decide to go to law school, explore the world of academia, or even public relations, my academic interests will define the career choices I make, rather than allowing my future career to dictate my current interests.
Despite avidly believing in pursuing what makes me happy, a part of me is still conflicted. I do want both. I want a life in which I have a fulfilling career and can be at home to care for my family. To be honest, a part of me is slightly envious of the girls who desire to pursue such flexible careers. But, unfortunately enough, my academic interests and career ambitions do not seem to lead me to that desired lifestyle. I now ask myself the age-old question: must the two conflict? Are both attainable goals?
The ideal answer lies within the mindset of our societies. Our communities have an outdated mentality regarding what is a practical and proper lifestyle for a Jewish woman. And moreover, that mentality is a narrow approach, without much leeway for many other fulfilling careers. By choosing to pursue an “impractical career”, or even a seemingly “impractical major”, I am choosing, according to many, to neglect certain responsibilities I presumably have as an Orthodox woman. It creates an automatic assumption that my priorities are skewed and unconventional.
Although I do believe that having time to stay at home is indefinitely valuable, there needs to be a greater recognition amongst our communities in the value of pursuing other fulfilling careers. Like the homes we build, the career choices we make are a significant indicator of our interests, principles, and overall identities. Since a career is a major aspect of our everyday future lives, should we not be encouraged to pursue our interests? Even if it leads to impracticality, striving to achieve happiness in the defining areas of my life is at the top of my priority list.
As I stated earlier, perhaps my mindset is naïve. Maybe in ten years from now I will look back at this article and think about how my twenty-year-old self had no clue what constitutes a fulfilling life. But as for the present, I can only hope that our communities come to a more broadened and accepting point of view.
Perhaps asking for a communal shift in mindset is indeed too much of an idealistic wish. In that case, the answer lies in a totally different, yet slightly more difficult approach: I need to change my personal outlook. As difficult as it may be, I need to find the encouragement to pursue my own interests elsewhere. The initiative needs to start with the self-confidence in my choices. As hard as it is to veer from a community standard, there is a lot to be gained from making decisions for my own good. The decisions ultimately stand stronger and will make me happiest if the choice is made solely for myself. All I have to do is find that inner strength in me… which is easier said than done.