The question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” used to be fun. There were so many imaginative spins a kindergartener could take. The usual heroic choices–-firefighter, astronaut, veterinarian–-were just as exciting as the less realistic aspirations of superhero or mermaid. When we were kids, it was all about the heroism. Our imaginations and the job possibilities kept getting more fantastic.
Nowadays, though, the “what are you going to do” question induces in many of us a mild panic attack that should probably be treated with prescription medication. The prospect of the future is not about a heroic job any longer, and it’s not just kid-dreaming. The stakes (My whole life!!) are now much higher. While happiness seemed to be a given back in our sandbox days, it is now a deeply rooted uncertainty for college students trying to see past graduation.
To explore this uncertainty, some University of Richmond students were asked to answer questions about how they envisioned three variations on the future, using criteria drawn from an exercise in Burnett & Evan’s book, Designing Your Life. The three futures the students were asked to imagine were: (1) the future they expected to see, (2) the one they would choose if their first choice was obsolete/impossible, and (3) the one they would live if money wasn’t a worry.
Their first futures were filled with plans for grad school, entry-level jobs in New York or Boston, and far-off futures with 2.5 kids and a white picket fence.
Presented with the scenario where those futures could not exist, students’ backup plans had to get a little more imaginative: opening up a bakery, trying out business consulting, and usually aiming for a career with a less impressive salary.
Their final future (where money isn't a concern) seemed to bring out true honesty in these students. One talked about traveling the world, another of becoming a poet, while another dreamt of being a stay-at-home mom.
All of these futures were great, but few spoke to how students believed they could live their most authentic life. In fact, the intended future (the first one—the one they were pursuing with their college majors and internships) was usually not the one they believed to be most authentically “them.” They cited money and security and family expectations as to why they prioritized that future over the others. Passion seemed to pale in comparison to practicality.
Happiness can come from all kinds of sources—including, or even especially, from the decisions we make about our present and our future. It can come from pursuing personal fulfillment or passion, or it can come from maintaining safety and security. It is incredibly difficult to reconcile priorities like these that pull us in different directions. There are no easy answers when it comes to choosing a future and trying to create it. Most likely, life will not end up going according to any of the plans we make. But choosing a future to appease others or just because it’s safe isn’t likely to be as fulfilling as trying to shape a future motivated by your desires.