I Want to Do Everything

Things I've thought about doing but won't.

Legit what being a grownup feels like most of the time. The Sack Lunch kid, not David Byrne.

After spending way too long (a total of 9 years, if you count the time between degrees) in higher ed, I finally have a job. A job I feel comfortable doing. A job I like. A job I’m good at. A job that makes me feel like I’m having some kind of impact. I love what I do as a librarian, but being the somewhat perfectionistic and restless person I am, there are so many other things I wish I could do. If things had gone differently when I was younger, if I had a stronger personality, or if I’d had different opportunities, I probably would be one of the following:

A journalist. This is actually what I studied in undergrad. For a long time, I couldn’t see myself doing anything but writing for a living. It was my passion, the thing I was good at and got attention and praise for, something I’m proud of. My professors would tell me again and again that my perspective is necessary. I did an internship for a local newspaper (founded by Walt Whitman!) the summer before my last semester. I loved feeling like I could contribute something meaningful, that I felt useful. I like knowing what’s going on in the world, I always have. I’m not one of those people who’s just content to stick my head in the sand.

To be honest though, hard news wasn’t what I wanted to do. It’s steady, but it can be tedious. The waiting, the telephone tag, the nonsense. It doesn’t feel as creative either, and I wanted that room to use my voice. What I really wanted to be was a features writer for a magazine: write essays and profiles, experience art and events, use my brain a little more. I daydreamed about living in New York, having the whole city open to me for material. Seeing a premiere at night and banging out a piece the next day. It felt so exciting just thinking about it gave me an adrenaline rush.

And then a more specific training ground (i.e. grad school) didn’t come to fruition. I was spooked and I backed out. That saga is going to get its own essay, but the short version is that in reality, my anxiety took away a lot of the joy I felt. Being under so much pressure in such a fast paced environment would scare me. I wasn’t going to do what everyone expected me to just for the positive attention at the expense of my mental health. I love being able to express myself, share my thoughts, connect with people through what I have to say, but I don’t want to burn out on it.

A teacher or professor. Before my school introduced a journalism program, I thought I’d just major in English and secondary education and become a junior high or high school teacher. I like books, I like writing, so it made some amount of sense. There’s a part of me that wanted to make up for the teachers I had who made me practically hate the subject during my most formative years (I could go on an entire tangent about why I think the honors class structure is reductive and potentially harmful, but I digress). I took a ton of English courses in undergrad anyway, because I’m just a huge nerd like that.

My problem was (and honestly, still is) I didn’t know if I had the personality for a classroom. I care about literature, I’m passionate about books and reading, I want to be engaged in what I read and create conversations around it. But would I have the strength to do that and manage a classroom? I’m an introvert by nature. I don’t see myself as a natural leader and person in charge. I tend to avoid conflict. Public speaking makes me nervous. I wouldn’t want to be the kind of teacher kids knew they could walk all over. I love the work I do with teens now, but teaching is too much for me. I’ve considered higher ed because college courses can be more discussion based instead of curriculum focused. In some ways though, it might be worse: the pressure to conform and do something unique, the lack of security, the red tape. I couldn’t work knowing my status as a professor could be hanging in the balance every semester and every year. The stress would be too much.

A disability advocate. Here’s where I’m gonna get a little more into my fantasies. Like, if I had time, money, and patience, I’d work for the government. I used to want to stay as far away from my disabled identity as I possibly could. It was something I dealt with every single day, but it was a nuisance. Something I was uncomfortable talking about. I wasn’t proud of that part of myself. I think it took growing up and learning more to start to see things differently.

Obviously, I know what it’s like to be disabled in my city, in New York state, and in America. On every level the people in charge could use some guidance on how to better serve people like me. Disabled people need someone in their corner who knows what the hell they’re talking about, who understands where the average disabled person is coming from when they look for help. Someone who knows the system firsthand. Unless they’re disabled, most people working to help their disabled peers get better treatment from lawmakers, medicine, and social services don’t know as much as they think they do. Empathy and a willingness to learn isn’t the same thing. Lived experience brings a completely different perspective.

I’d want to do it because I’d believe in what I’m doing, but it’d be hard not to get angry, and tired. Knowing how difficult the system and the government can be is already frustrating enough as someone who needs them. I don’t know how long I would last, if I’m being honest and realistic.

Something with direct public policy and law. I care about a lot of issues, not just ones that affect me directly. I know the world I grew up in and the world I’m becoming an adult in are messy and broken, and I don’t think we should be forced to just deal with the status quo. I also know that wanting things to be better isn’t enough; you need to actually put in the work. We need younger people (meaning people under 40 years old) in positions where they can have an influence on things, where they can make decisions about the laws that govern their lives.

I read plenty about random topics that interest me, which includes law, social justice movements, history, and public policy. But to be able to do anything of value, or anything that involves really getting inside the government, I’d have to get another advanced degree. Whether that would mean going to law school or getting a master’s degree in public policy, it’d still mean more time in school. I don’t think I’d want to actually like, run for Congress or anything. You do need to know what you’re doing and talking about to work for a city government, or in a representative’s office. I’m already tens of thousands in debt and I’d rather not add more. I like learning, but not in such high pressure environments. I’m ready to start doing and living, not sitting in a lecture for a grade.

What I’ve realized about all these things is that I can’t pick one. I want to do all of them and none of them all at once. I used to think I wanted to do something important, that would bring attention to things I think are important. I used to think I was destined for something Bigger. The truth is, I think for a long time I told myself I’m only good at one thing, because people only gave me praise for being smart and able to write.

In reality that’s not true at all: being good at something doesn’t mean you have to devote your entire life to it and nothing else. I think my job as a librarian combines parts of these — being creative, making an impact on others, sharing my perspective by being present — in a way that doesn’t totally overwhelm me. I think I made the right choice.