During my moments of somewhat psycho-indecisiveness, I often think back on my childhood and the dreams I used to have. I once wanted to be an artist and a veterinarian, and really, my goals haven’t changed much – just become more realistic. I’m a writer, and writers (generally) are considered artists. I’m not a veterinarian, but I’m an active environmentalist and supporter of animal rights.

When I was a sophomore in college, I told myself I had to accept my limitations. I wasn’t a math person. In fact, I practically jumped up and down the day I finished the last math class I ever would have to take. I also wasn’t science-inclined. Deep thinker that I am, there are times when I just like things explained straight-out to me. Oh, I have a huge interest in science and related fields. After all, where would I stand on some of the most important issues in my life if it weren’t for the science and nature journals I devour? It’s fascinating to me, but when it comes to practical application – well, there are just some things I can’t wrap my head around.

During this period of manic soul-searching, I often found that in disregarding one idea, three more would crop up in its place. Opportunities presented themselves exponentially, and it scared the crap out of me. Nothing stuck, and I fell back into the belief that I was an English major because it had been the most logical step toward developing a previously existing skill.

Could it possibly be that I was just taking the easy way out? That in accepting my limitations, I actually might have been limiting myself more? I wonder that now. I imagine we all experience the confusion that comes with deciding what we will do with the rest of our lives. No matter what field we enter, deep down we all desire to do things differently.

“What do you plan on doing with your degree?” There came a point when I began to expect this question as a normal part of conversation with strangers, and still, I never knew quite how to answer it. I have my ideas, my certainties, but none of them seem to make sense when shown the light of day. Only in my head do they fall back into place.

Let me say here that I think English majors are exceedingly misunderstood. You don’t know quite what you want to do with your degree, and so in an attempt to bring you back to reality, people ask: “Are you going into teaching?” If you say ‘no’ to this, people are at a loss. “What are you going to do?” they desperately ask.

We aren’t good for just one thing. Granted, this is a label people often don’t realize they’re putting on you, but just because you have a degree in something doesn’t mean you’re tied forever to that degree. If it were up to me, I would make a label of my own that says: ‘I’m an English major but not a teacher. I am not misguided.’

What students have to realize, I think, is that a multiplicity of choices should be cause for celebration, not unbearable anxiety. It should show them that they are multi-faceted individuals who will bring a variety of different skills to whatever job they choose.

Columns reflect the opinion of the author and not necessarily that of the Northern Star staff.