Remember all that BS I wrote a few months ago about the importance of becoming a journalist? The truth is I was trying to channel my own dissatisfaction with my decision and attempting to add some meaning to an otherwise frustrating career. I thought I would be able to convince myself that I had made the right choice, but I could not. While it is true that I chose to become a journalist--in part because I enjoy writing--the idea of dealing with pointless assignments and bossy editors for the rest of my days did not come across with even one hint of appeal. My wish was to transform a profession that starves those who speak the truth and rewards flawed "fact-giving" and repetition into a platform for social transformation. I wanted to turn what I thought of as my only talent into the way of fulfilling my life mission: to serve. Journalism, however, is not the right front to fight that battle, at least not for me.
For months I stalled as much as I could to take the Grammar Exam that would grant me full admission to the School of Communications. When I reached 60 credits, the dreaded day when I had to declare my major, I chose to wait, and here I am, at 74 credits with no declared major, YET. I realized that two things could be going wrong: either journalism was not my passion or I was naturally anxious as I faced the imminent decision that would affect "the rest of my life". When I told my father that I was struggling with my decision, he thought my dilemma was related to the latter and turned down every possible career I brought to his attention.
Every week, the dinner table would become a range where my father gunned my every proposal down, and no one ever turned out victorious. All of a sudden, everyone in my family got involved in the debates. I heard opinions from everyone. My boyfriend and my sister showed unconditional support for any decision, whereas everyone else wanted me to be a doctor, a dentist and everything in between that I never had an inclination to be. It's as if money was all they ever thought about. What about personal satisfaction? I was even more confused than at the beginning. I had always known what I wanted and was overcome by a sense of failure. I had to tell everyone to stay out of it until I finally worked it out.
After some thought, I am able to wear a smile on my face again. I have finally communicated my decision: I'm going back to what I wanted to be before my mom made me believe that I would not be successful at it, simply because she wanted me to defend her when she was unmistakably wrong. Sixteen courses away from graduation, I am changing my major to Criminal Justice and pursuing a degree as a Juris Doctor as soon as I graduate in Fall '11. Harvard Law School, here I come!
