Everything is Not How it Seems

Well here we are, the beginning (kind of) of yet another school year. For me, this has been a pretty special beginning. This is the year that I finally feel like the pieces are all falling together. If you couldn’t tell from my bio, I’m a little bit of a nomad, especially in the past 8 years. Before I dive too far into details of my new experiences, let me catch you up on my life thus far. As long as I can remember I dreamed that when I grew up I was going to be living in a big sparkling city, with all the twinkling lights, and all the beautiful people. New York was my ultimate dream. Spoiler alert: I made it; but not without a few adventures along the way that helped shape me into the person I am today.

If you’ve ever heard that Montana is filled with the friendliest people (aside from Oregonians), then you are correct! If you’ve ever heard differently, well then you’re wrong. Montana became my blessing in disguise. I spent all four years of undergrad at a small private university in the middle of Montana, where I was given opportunities beyond what I ever envisioned for myself. These opportunities didn’t always come in the form of a special internship or a large array of class options, but rather I was given opportunities to help me gain confidence in my own abilities and in myself as a young woman. I was held accountable, I was pushed, and I was given personal attention; all of which I needed in order to continue to push myself through not only my undergrad, but through the next journey I would embark on: graduate school.

So I spoiled it before, but yes, I did end up “living the dream” for about two years. You see this is not my first grad school rodeo. I’m a bit of a seasoned veteran. In 2012, I was like many of the seniors at Scripps: dreading the GRE and suffering through the pain of individualized personal statements for each school you plan on applying to (but totally worth it!). But also, just simply trying to figure out where I was going to apply and what I wanted my focus to be. With Connecticut and New York being my main contenders my ultimate decision landed with New York (leaving none of my friends or family surprised in the slightest). I spent two bright-eyed years in New York where I was so very lucky to experience Broadway, the Feast of San Gennaro, New Years in Times Square, and working the Macy’s Day Parade. Oh ya, and I was going to grad school too! I was studying Media Studies at a small school on some prime real estate in Manhattan. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), my interest was short lived and after one year of the program I decided that it was no longer what I wanted to do. I definitely had a hard time accepting that. It took me quite a while to stop feeling like I had failed and that I had let down those who loved me. I learned a lot from that. I came to realize that sometimes what feels like a bad experience is actually a good one because it teaches you not only what you like, but most importantly what you don’t like and I actually think that’s even more important.

Fast forward through another year of the working world, and then another 8 months of bumming in the sun at my parents in Arizona and here I am. Here I am and I’m happy to be here!

Don't you mean do well? No, I mean do good.

Don’t you mean do well? No, I mean do good.

Graduate School: Not Only About the School

As a Organismal Biology major entering her senior year, I am beginning my search for the next step in academic career: graduate school. As many Scripps students  know, there are a number of factors to consider when it comes to deciding on a next-level institution. However, one aspect that few consider is that which is not encapsulated within the school grounds. The surrounding university town or city, that many schools share with local residents, can be an important indicator as to the nature of the institution itself.

The way I approach this dynamic is from my own career interest. As a genetic counselor, one must focus on both the genetic and psychology, or counseling, facets. Often, these two aspects require very different environments and support systems in which students can learn and thrive. Genetic research, like most forms of scientific research, requires the lab and experimental tools to contribute to the worldwide genetic database. That means that research focused institutions don’t need to interact much with the outside world in order to conduct research; students can work in contained or removed spaces without relying on the community. In reality, this translates to more isolated, independent institutions focusing on lab-based genetic research. On the other hand, the counseling feature, by definition, requires real patients and other participants in order to practice. This normally means having an involved, present, and helpful student body or relying on opportunities outside of the school. The institution-town interaction is extremely important, as students that have symbiotic relationships with their surrounding neighbors can both benefit from and assist their communities. This may be a vital criteria for a student or faculty members who is very interested in working with actual patients who need their help. This results in schools whose students are extremely active in the community and who leave their respective institutions with plenty of applicable clinical experience. If it wasn’t already apparent from my previous blog posts, I am searching for the latter type of graduate experience.

Now, as college students, we tend to evaluate a potentially city or town by factors like food variety, living costs, and distance to the closest pharmacy. What if I told you that, because I am interested in working in medicine, it is far more important for me to find a graduate school where there is a large number of hospitals in the surrounding area? When you phrase it like this, it seems to make sense, right? More important that my living conditions per se will be my academic conditions. Though not always a true indicator, many clinically focused schools are based around lots of different hospitals in an attempt to utilize their resources and to give their students practical outlets. Additionally, the specialties of the surrounding hospitals and the services they offer may also influence the school’s curriculum. Keep in mind, this relationship is important for more than just medical institutions. Want to work in economics, finance, or accounting? Search for schools outlined by various financial firms or around large business or companies where your skills may be valued. Want to teach? Many graduate universities have relationships with small tutoring and teaching companies in the area to get you started. In nearly all cases, both the school and the town in which it resides can be symbiotic indicators for each other. The dynamic relationship they share may help you to make that important decision.

Career Choice and the Common Good

I may be in Bulgaria, but I still manage to keep up with my favorite TV shows.  Recently on Bones, Dr. Temperance Brennan articulated some ideas that have been bouncing around my own skull recently.

Brennan: “I believe every American should consider what is his or her greatest contribution to the common good.”
Booth: “And yours would be running for president?”
Brennan: “I’m brilliant– that is not in dispute.”

As an intelligent and ambitious Scripps woman, I’m wondering, what would be my greatest contribution to society? Isn’t it my civic duty to put this brain of mine to its best use? The most terrifying aspect of career planning, for me, is the idea that I may not live up to my own potential.

I gave up my dreams of the presidency around middle school when I realized that I, like Dr. Temperance Brennan, had little to no chance of being elected to the highest office in America as an atheist. But, there are still plenty of other ways that I could work to improve the lives of others.

How can I tell what work is “highly valuable” and respected by society?

Society seems to have a couple of bars by which we judge value. Forbes’ article “The 15 Most Valuable College Majors,” unsurprisingly uses salary and expected earnings to rank majors. I disregarded money-based value judgments long before I chose a self-designed creative writing major (about as far as can be from Petroleum Engineering and Management Information Systems).

On the other hand, we conflate selectivity and value. This is clear in the undergraduate admissions process with Ivy League obsession. It’s also a judgment that presents itself in grad school admissions. The MCAT and LSAT are notoriously difficult, and so we conclude that only the best and smartest among us become doctors and lawyers. Something I didn’t expect to discover in my graduate school research: the most selective med school, the Mayo Medical School, has an acceptance rate of 2.2% ; the most selective MFA in creative writing (Vanderbilt University) has an acceptance rate of 1%.

As I try to map out a career path, or at least a 5-year-plan or two, it’s difficult to ignore the engrained idea that smart, engaged citizens follow these two paths— mountains of money and/or prestigious altruism. As an amateur career-cartographer, it’s hard not to let these voices affect how I plot my own course. I’m lucky to have the Scripps community and CP&R cheering me on, because all of this is a lot easier knowing there are people who have my back.

So what should I do?

In four years at Scripps, I learned that success comes easier when we’re doing something we love.  As for value, maybe I should make my judgment based on what’s been of the most value to me—educational support. I’ve found a couple ways I might pay this forward. There are a number of Americorps positions at non-profits working to expand college access for low-income and potential first-generation college students through near-peer mentoring and academic coaching. I may not get the starting pay of a software engineer, but it’s worth it do something I love.

As I embark on a career in higher education administration, I may never find the cure for cancer or put an end to war through international diplomacy, but I hope to help other achieve those dreams. And maybe one day yet I’ll have the title “President” in front of my name.

——

FMI on Americorps college access programs: Schuler Scholars Program, College Possible (with a new site in Portland!), College Forward, Kentucky College Coaches, or the Americorps website for more opportunities to serve.

 

Planning for the Future

I have a confession to make: I really like to plan. I like to research grad programs, career ideas and internships. I like to record my findings in lists and, if I’m feeling a little crazy, spreadsheets. I like to be able to see all the possibilities, so that when I set my sights on a few opportunities, I know that they’re the best for me.

(The downside of this is that I’m always living in the future, but this post is not about that.)

My work experience at Scripps opened my eyes to careers in higher education. After my Fulbright, I’d like to get more work experience in admissions or study abroad programming, but there’s not much I can do until spring. Even so, I occasionally trawl the waters of HigherEdJobs.com, the Forum on Education Abroad, and the Association of International Educators job board, just to read job descriptions and get an idea of what’s out there.

What I have been doing is planning for grad school. Getting my Masters degree is solidly within my 5-year plan, which is why I took the GRE this June. I wanted to have the test done before I was out of school mode, but I gave myself a month after graduation to study. Having a deadline helped motivate my study, and having something to keep me occupied after graduation helped keep me sane. I am happy with my scores, but if I had to do it again I would change how I studied. I used Barron’s New GRE test prep (which I do recommend) and studied writing, then verbal, then math. I’m convinced I would have improved my score if I had started with my most rusty subject, math, and moved forward from there, instead of leaving it until the end when I was burnt out and in crunch mode.

The last week has been marked by daily afternoon thunderstorms, so while I stay inside and catch up on season two of Nikita (no shame), I have been making notes on higher education administration (HEA) programs around the country. This became easier when I found the grad school database hosted by NASPA, the association for Student Affairs Administrators in Higher Education. It’s not an exhaustive database, but it helped me immensely in putting together a starting list of 19 schools.

HEA programs come in all shapes and sizes. They can be titled M.A., M.Ed. or, less frequently, M.S. They range from nine months to two years. There are small and large cohorts. Some programs prefer research and theory to practice. Some programs cover tuition 100% with graduate assistantships, other programs are reputed as “cash cows” for their schools. Sometimes it is called Higher Education, sometimes it is Postsecondary Administration and Student Affairs, and sometimes it is Policy, Planning & Administration with a concentration in Higher Education. Among these options, I don’t know what I want yet.

Luckily, graduates of these types of programs are abundant at Scripps. I can research as much as I want on the internet, but having real people to ask about the honest pros and cons of their experience is priceless. They have the kind of insights I won’t find in marketing materials.

This all leaves me with choices to make and narrowing down to do. I have plenty of time before I make any decisions, but I like to be prepared.

“What’s Next?”: The Dreaded Question

As many of us who have been graduated from high school or attended college for at least five minutes have experienced, adults all around us are constantly want to know “What’s next?” “Where are you headed from here?” The variations are countless, but the gist of it remains the same: “what’s next?” The question tends to produce a momentary panicked glance – perhaps at parents, if they’re not the ones asking, but most likely the glance is towards a peer, in hopes that they can help you deflect the asker to some other topic. For most of the last two years, I have laughed many nervous laughs and sent many panicked glances at friends and occasionally a parent as I get asked this question. My standard answer was something vague, or maybe an outright admission that I honestly had no clue. I didn’t know where I was headed- in my mind I’d just gotten somewhere new! Nonetheless people kept asking, and I kept avoiding complete answers.

Something funny happened this August, however, when my grandmother once more asked me what was next for me. For the first time in a good while, I actually had an answer for her. I told her that I would probably be looking for a master’s degree in gender and women’s studies (my current major), and would take it from there. I might start working for a non-profit, or I might decide I wanted to stay in academia, get a master’s in library science, and become an academic librarian. I was also planning on applying for a Fulbright during my senior year, I added, almost as an afterthought. Once I stopped talking I was caught up in a wave of shock – I had actually answered the dreaded question! I had never before been able to give someone an actual answer to that question, and suddenly I was able to give one without any hesitation. I hadn’t even mentioned all of my ideas – I might even consider getting a PhD and becoming a professor like my mother. Instead of feeling like I had no answer, I felt like I had a plethora. So as I sat on my couch later that day I stopped to think about how I’d been able to give her that answer. What had changed in the last six months?

Last spring I did a series of appointments with CP&R, talking about career ideas, doing a Myers-Briggs assessment, and exploring the possibility of alumnae contacts whom I could ask about their experiences. While I hadn’t thought of it as a life-changing decision at the time, it seemed that it had had more of an impact than I realized. I hadn’t gone to CP&R seeking solid answers, nor had I gotten any, but it seemed that just the act of talking about, and thinking about, what might come “next” had given me the ability to answer that dreaded question. But I’m curious- how have others been able to answer this question? Or maybe you’re one of the people still unable to answer it – what ways have you come up with to avoid specific answers? Do other people dread this question as much as I used to? Tell me I’m not alone!