Recently, I've felt lost.
Not an "I ended up in NSC when my class is in Clemens because I was daydreaming and haven't eaten in 24 hours and got three hours of sleep last night" kind of lost. It's a "I have no idea what I'm doing with my life and I'm not quite sure the classes I'm taking right now are even for me," gut-wrenching, gripping kind of emptiness.
When I tell people I am a linguistics major, usually the first question I'm asked after "What does that mean?" is what my end goal will be. Usually I'll answer with the standard: "It could lead to many things - I could be an interpreter, work with the government, or maybe I'll go to law school."
But to be completely honest, I have no idea.
And not knowing stresses me out.
I added a double major in psychology last semester in an effort to give myself a clearer picture of my future, but now I am more confused than ever.
It's common to hear college should be a time of exploration and you should use it to figure out what you really enjoy and what truly fascinates you. But there are internships to apply for, research to conduct and professors to connect with to get that blow-you-out-of-the-water letter of recommendation and I can't help but feel this overwhelming pressure to have it all figured out. Right now.
I recently interviewed Dr. Mark Frank, a communication professor and he said something that really hit home.
"Neither of my parents went to college, so college to them is like high school with harder courses," Frank said. "But it's more than that - [college] is trying to take you to another level. In the old days, if you were trained as a welder, you came out with a skill - you knew how to weld. When you come out of that tradition - that blue collar mindset - you think: what do you come out with?"
College learning is definitely a different mindset than learning in high school. Memorizing dates and facts or the lyrics to the presidents' song won't help you pass a class where you need to know 78 pages of information, understand it and then apply it to larger concepts. Especially when its concepts that might be too confusing for your muddled, tired brain to comprehend, even if you had gotten more than 12 hours of sleep in the last five days.
Instead, you need to extend your brain and think more broadly - not what year did so-and-so invent such-and-such, but how did that invention change the face of the time period in which he lived?
I've also realized there are very few things quite as incredibly frustrating and discouraging as admitting you aren't doing as well in a class as you'd like. Experiencing difficulty in classes I am taking for my major makes me feel as if I won't even graduate successfully, much less be able to change the world in the process.
And there is no worse feeling than realizing ignoring your problems is no longer working and you need to run to your professor with your tail between your legs and admit you don't know what's going on and that you need help.
I am not pre-med with the end goal of being a doctor or a dentist or a veterinarian. I'm not an education major with the end goal of teaching in elementary, middle or high school or becoming a professor. I'm not even sure research is for me.
My parents and peers don't understand what I will come out of college with besides a piece of paper that says I studied linguistics for 4 years.
And I don't quite understand either. But welding is definitely not in my future.
So I'm lost. It's a terrifying feeling.
The world spins crazily whenever you sit down and think about how much you don't know what you're doing. But I do know that being lost now forces me to explore where my true passions lie, and this horrible, sinking, "please hold me" feeling will lead to incredible things in the future.
email: alyssa.mcclure@ubspectrum.com
