Editor’s note: This is the latest in our occasional series, “If I Knew Then What I Know Now,” which offers a variety of perspectives on the college experience.
The importance of leadership has been stressed to me my entire life. My father made it a point to tell me almost every day to “be a leader and not a follower.” But what does that phrase mean? Does it mean that you should blaze a new and amazing trail everywhere you go, seeking only individualism and inimitable style while bucking the established order of things? No—and my father’s statement took on different meanings as I aged and matured.
What it means to me to be a leader is working for and earning the true desires of your heart, rather than pursuing goals that others make for you. Being a leader in your own life and realizing that only you are in control of your decisions may help you break free from slavishly following the prevailing standards of success and happiness.
I am a married, 23-year old, second-year graduate student in the master’s of public administration program at N.C. State University. I grew up two hours south of Raleigh in an unincorporated portion of Rowan County, and I became the first in my family to receive a degree when I earned my B.A. in political science from N.C. State in 2009.
I attended a private Catholic school until seventh grade when I entered the public school system, primarily for sports. I was slightly behind in academics, but catching up was not difficult because I found the learning and social environments to be more engaging and challenging in public school. From there I became the last of five children to filter into East Rowan High School, a modestly sized 3A school that at the time offered very little in terms of college expectations and advising.
As a senior, I applied just to N.C. State because it was the only school I knew anything about. I also decided to major in political science because friends told me that was the way to get to law school. Becoming a lawyer had been my dream since age four when my father and I watched TV’s Perry Mason, an attorney who conducted his own investigations and brazenly commanded the courtroom. Although I knew very little about the profession in reality, the show’s drama convinced me then, and lawyers’ potential earnings persuaded me later, that I should pursue a legal career.
I had no plans to be an athlete in college because I was never recruited. At the urging of my high school coach and having had a couple of top-three finishes in shot-put at the state championships, however, I decided to walk on to the track team. I earned a scholarship after my first season, traveled to many different states competing, and walked away with some nice resume-building trophies and awards. I learned quickly through college athletics that success is not a privilege, but rather a product of hard work and dedication.
My most important college experience, though, had nothing to do with receiving my degree or athletics, but rather with a simple conversation about my future that changed my perception about what is important. Doubts about law school and fear of an unwanted career were already plaguing me when my track coach reminded me that it is never too late to consider other options.
I realized I was pursuing a career for money rather than happiness and that I had never taken the time to think about what would make me happy as opposed to what would make me wealthy. A career in public service pays much less than a career as an attorney, but after police ride-alongs and research into the field, I realized that I was more interested in law enforcement than in legal argument.
To take advantage of my athletic eligibility, I was on a five-year graduation plan. I accelerated my course load and graduated in four years. Also, I decided to go to graduate school for my M.P.A. I had spoken with a lot of people working in law enforcement; the most common theme was that they wished they had earned a graduate degree. I decided to help myself out now instead of following the more common scenario in public service, in which people return to graduate school after 10 to 15 years of work in order to continue to advance.
I began to apply for graduate school instead of law school, and I took the GRE instead of the LSAT. Now I am looking forward to a meaningful, albeit low-paid, career in public service.
How can my story help you make your college experience more meaningful? To begin with, understand that the only things you are really in control of are your decisions. Do not give your rights to decision-making away too easily to others—or to apathy.
The implications of taking control of all your decisions are far greater than what major you choose, or what school you go to. Perhaps you should be asking whether or not college is even right for you in the first place. Or maybe you should be rethinking your views about high-profile four-year universities and community colleges. There are a myriad of possibilities when thinking about your future, and thinking about your future is key.
I am not suggesting that you should stress relentlessly about where your life is headed. On the contrary, I am suggesting that you stress less. Take your decisions slowly and if possible consult with close friends or family who may have already been where you are. Use this consultation to explore your options rather than to make your decision for you. Otherwise you may find yourself lost in the pursuit of others’ successes or dreams.
I urge all current or future college students out there reading to take a deep breath, close your eyes, and think about the path that you are taking. Are you pursuing what others think to be successful, or have you actually taken a look inside yourself to see what is right for you?
I had a rude awakening when I realized deep in my college career that I was on the incorrect path. Yet as American author Maria Robinson wrote, “Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”