I slowly walk along the skybridge between Smith Memorial Student Union and the School of Business Administration, lost in thought. Another student walks past, smoking a forbidden cigarette. It’s a dreary morning, and the top floors of the downtown high-rises just a few blocks away are hidden in the dense fog. Finding an abandoned bench, I sit, waiting for inspiration.
It’s a good day for an existential crisis.
I came to Portland State with the plan and the determination to study computer science. My proclivity for math was strong enough that my instructors at the community college encouraged me—rather strongly, I might add—to pursue a computer science career: the very mathematical foundations of modern technology.
But as I spend day after day in the Linux lab in the Fourth Avenue Building, writing seemingly endless lines of code and talking to fellow students and the program’s instructors, I find myself less and less attracted to the idea of studying and working with computers. I still enjoy the voodoo and black magic that is advanced mathematics, but like Hank Hill going to the hardware store, the pleasure is in the experience itself. I realize, as I struggle through the lines of code that make up my class assignments, that I no longer have any interest in computer science.
Talking to other students, I find that this crisis of faith is a common affliction among those of us just entering university. Many of us come to school with big dreams and strong hopes only to find reality a formidable opponent. Perhaps I’m somewhat unique in that I chose a major based on the power of my strengths instead of my passions. I listened to my community college professors, taking as gospel that they knew what was best for me—that they saw strengths that I myself did not recognize. I ignored my passions, my own perceived strengths and my interests.
And now I’m paying dearly for that decision.
My academic love has always been history. There is no other subject that I feel so passionately about, and that I feel is as important to understanding our world today. In a very literal sense, history is the foundation of almost every aspect of our daily lives. What we do today, how we live our lives, the structure of society…all of it is influenced by what has come before us.
The thought of changing my major to history is a daunting one. I feel that I would be letting people down—people who have supported and cheered me on as I slogged and struggled through two degrees from Umpqua Community College, a small but highly respected school in southern Oregon.
I feel that I may be robbing myself of a bright future, one in which I can provide my children with the happy childhood and stable home that they so richly deserve. A computer science degree can give me those opportunities, but can a history degree do the same?
Many students struggle with similar questions. Following our dreams can be extremely fulfilling on a personal level but may not have the potential to provide us with financial and personal stability. On the other hand, studying a hard science or another highly sought-after field may ensure personal success, but at a terrible cost: we end up hating our jobs and regretting our careers.
I’m a Luddite through and through. I’d rather be writing this article on an old IBM Selectric than the Toshiba laptop that I’m currently using. I’d rather get my news from a newspaper than my Kindle. With the exception of medical technology, I’d be quite content had the pinnacle of engineering been the flashlight and the rotary phone. Given that, why did I ever think computers would be a valid career choice?
While my struggles with my chosen major are not unique, that realization doesn’t make my life any easier. However, by the time this article is published I will likely have formally changed my major to history. It is my passion. My life.
Almost without question, some readers are facing similar struggles. I can’t offer much advice because every individual is facing different circumstances. I can give a few practical pointers, though. For others in this situation, I highly recommend speaking to an academic advisor and fleshing out a plan for what it would take to follow your dreams. Think about the ramifications to housing, financial aid and other services and benefits that may be at stake.
The bottom line is that we all have a passion, and those passions need routine feeding and care. We may not be able to land our dream job, but that’s OK; Spending our lives doing something we despise is simply not worth it.
Follow your dreams, my friends. Life is too short to do anything else.
