The Rest of Your Life
Sometimes You Just Don't Know What To Do With It
Savannah Toler
HIGH school is, unquestionably, one of the most interesting times in your young adult life. At the ripe young age of fourteen, give or take a year, you are thrust into the world of adulthood. Now, I'm not going as far as to say fill out your W-2s and start on your nine-to-five, but this is the point in your life where the adults around you expect you to act more like, well... adults. If you have a phone, your parents/guardians may want you to start paying the bill in part or in full; if you have any younger siblings, you may be asked to baby-sit them. As you age, more and more of your responsibilities become more and more adult-like. Finally, you hit your senior year, the truest beginning of your adulthood, whether you are eighteen or not.
I don't really think I came to understand my adulthood until later in my senior year. I was sitting at my kitchen table, filling out college applications, when I came across the line asking for my major. I had already finished a few other applications, but this had been the one line I had skipped consistently. Now, for many people, this isn't seen as much of a problem; you fill the blank with 'undeclared ' and call it a day, and that's not a bad way to go about it either. However, I knew that if I didn't make a decision then, even if it were the wrong one, I may never decide what to do with my life. This is where I reached a dilemma.
LIKE most kids, I never really had a concrete idea of what I wanted to be when I grew up. According to my mother, in Kindergarten I wanted to be a garbage truck driver. As the years passed, it was always something different: an author, an actress, a marine biologst, a forensic scientist. Once I hit sophomore year, I knew I needed to start getting serious about carreer decisions- however, this didn't happen. If I had ever even had so much as a notion of a serious career, I wouldn't be sitting in agony at my kitchen table, trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life.
I sat for a while and thought about whether or not any of my past dreams would be a good career to pursue. Garbage truck driver? Not nearly enough money. An author or actress? No guarantee I could actually find a job or get published. A marine biologist? Useless dolphin facts was (and still is) the furthest extent of my knowledge of science. A forensic scientist? Again, too much science and much too murder-y for my taste. But now, with all my options depleted, how was I ever going to think of something I could do for the rest of my life?
I CONTINUED to think through my options, trying to go through more pros and cons. I continued to sit at my kitchen table, and I continued to be in agony. I was going to the depths of my mind trying to think of another option, any option. I tried to think of any hobbies (which I didn't have) that could be made into a potential job, and it wasn't like I had ever actually worked a day in my life.
Well, except for camp.
But, to be completely honest, camp wasn't really a job. Camp was a two week vaction from the rest of my life while also being graciously paid for watching some kids. Camp was me watching a bunch of nerd-kids learn some really cool stuff and have a really fun time doing it. Camp was me teaching kids how to make flubber and hearing them say things like 'Ew, this is awesome,' or 'Wow, this is really fun!'
Oh no.
It almost sounds like I want to be a teacher.
Who am I kidding?
It sounds exactly like I should be a teacher.
'WELL, what am I saying? It's not like it's a bad thing to be teacher. It just really didn't seem like the job for me. I knew I didn't want to be a parent: I don't like kids and don't have the patience for children. Not to mention, the pay is kind of terrible. But then again, it's not like the students are my actual children, and the pay may not be fantastic, but people can obviously live on it...' I started to panic. I was actually considering becoming a teacher, and it started to seem like a decent fit. However, this decision couldn't be made at my kitchen table. I needed to know more.
The next week at school, I started asking around. I talked to my two favorite teachers, who just happened to be the oldest and youngest teachers at my school. I asked them both the same questions, and even with their great age difference, their answers to my questions were mostly the same. 'How was the salary? What are your days really like? Do you ever get too aggravated to function?' Their answers to those questions were pretty favorable. Becoming a teacher didn't sound like such a bad idea. But my most important question (along with their answers) was this: do you ever regret becoming a teacher? And their answers? 'Absolutely not.'
I ONLY gave myself the following week to make a decision, but I still thought long and hard about it. While I could always change my major in the future, I really wanted to find something that would stick. I thought of all the possible pros and cons. I looked up what my potential colleges' prerequisites were to become a teacher. Day after day passed, and I was done researching. All I could think about now was how much I needed to teach.
