by Lora Massey
I can be criticized for a lot of things in life — loving chocolate too much, being addicted to ABC Family dramas, finding language way too fascinating — but I have never been accused of wanting to grow up too fast. In fact, more often than not, I want time to slow down, not speed up. When I first transferred to the University of Nevada, Reno as a sophomore, life beyond college seemed like some mythical idea in the far reaches of time and space that I would never actually touch, feel or understand. Life after college simply did not exist in my mind.
Now, at almost 23 years old and in my final semester of my senior year, the fact that there really is life beyond college has suddenly occurred to me. It seems it’s occurred to everyone else in my life as well, because the single most important question everyone from my mother to the grocer at Safeway asks is: “What are you going to do after you graduate?”
Honestly, this question is about as annoying and unhelpful as when people bombard you with, “What are you going to major in?” before you’ve even graduated high school. I understand the question; it’s a natural question to ask, but at the same time I have to wonder what the point is. I mean, asking a 22-year-old what they’re going to do for the rest of their life is about the same as telling an 18-year-old they have to decide, from the moment they step onto a college campus, who they are going to be from now until they die.
Columnist Lora Massey advocates for seniors being allowed to be “misguided messes” after college. Photo illustration by Kaitlin Oki/Nevada Sagebrush
So really, I can’t figure out why everyone is so obsessed with me (and my fellow seniors) figuring out the rest of my life during my last semester in college. I mean, it’s not even their life to figure out. And if I haven’t figured it out in the past four years, then four more months probably isn’t going to matter. Just saying.
Sure, creditors and banks don’t exactly accept the “What do you mean Monopoly money is not a valid form of repayment?” approach, but I think it’s silly how obsessed everyone is with this “life after college” idea. The way I see it, life after college is still life. I’ll be applying for several jobs in the next few months, none of which I plan to be in for longer than a year or two before finding something else, somewhere else. I have no set career path. At some point in the next few years I’d like to go to grad school, and maybe at some other point I’ll get married. Maybe I’ll be famous. Maybe I’ll work in a coffee shop. But the real point is that I don’t know, and I’m not sure why everyone thinks that’s a problem.
Realistically, no one’s life ever turns out exactly as they had planned. This goes even for the few people on this Earth blessed enough to know exactly what they want out of life from the time they are 4 years old. So, if life never turns out the way we plan anyway, then why make every college senior have a 25-year life plan? As long as I have a rough outline for the next two or three years and make enough money to keep up with my student loan payments, then what’s the problem with being open to the unexpected? What’s wrong with, at 22, still not being completely sure where I fit in and what I want?
So to all the parents and friends and families and grocers and random nobodies who are freaking out because they know someone who doesn’t know what they’re going to do after college: relax. We know how to whip out an “A” essay at midnight when we haven’t slept in 48 hours and give fabulous presentations when we’re higher than kites on caffeine, or hung over from the night before. We’ll figure out what to do with our lives, and so what if we look like lost and misguided messes in the process? That’s what our 20s are for. I’d rather be a mess now than later. So, let us eventually blow you away with all we can achieve, but for now, let us be beautiful messes. Let us be 20-something.
Lora Massey studies linguistics and Asian studies. She can be reached at opinion@http://archive.archive.nevadasagebrush.com.
