In high school, they put you through every career exploration website in the book with endless surveys to fill the time. What are your hobbies? Are you a social person? A visual learner or auditory? After these life-changing questions, small colorful blurbs would appear, possible careers ranging from travel agent to journalist, salesman to entertainer. Over and over, you complete these surveys, for four years. But at the end of the day, the core question is the same one we were given as children for icebreaker worksheets. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” My question in return, stated or not, was often “Can I pick more than one?”
As I drafted my college supplemental answers, a common theme emerged. A little boy from my childhood kept sneaking his way into my paragraphs, and his name was Henry McBride. Who is he, you may ask? As a child, I read voraciously. Hours upon hours spent sitting in the light of open windows, flipping page by page as I followed Charlie through the Chocolate Factory and Peter Rabbit through the garden of Mr. McGregor.
Of the more worn covers and spines in my collection of books was one titled The Bippolo Seed and Other Lost Stories by Dr. Seuss. A set of seven short stories, each zanier than the last. But the story of “The Great Henry McBride,” the last in the book, always resonated with me. A young boy daydreams of all the possible things he could be. He isn’t satisfied with just one career, and as he continues to add more jobs his title becomes more ludicrous. At the time, it seemed logical to me. Why stick to only one career when the world is so big and time is so endless when you are still in the single digits? On those icebreaker sheets, I would write a list of everything I was going to be.
It started with marine biology. My love of dolphins was sure to lead to an exciting career diving in exotic seas, playing with animals and discovering the depths of the Mariana Trench. Next, astronomy. I loved staring at the stars, dragging my parents out into the cold evening air to search for planets with the naked eye. But what about geology, paleontology or even archaeology? I dug through the flower beds at our home searching for rare pieces of china and brachiosaurus bones, only to find the golf balls of the previous owners. But there was still so much more I could be! A baker, a ballerina, a chemist, a spy! For fun, maybe even a writer on the side. But what type of writer? All types! Plays, articles, poems, stories of all lengths! I paid no mind to my peers as they began to select their classes more carefully in high school, drifting towards paths set so cleanly. There was still time to try everything and anything, I could do it all!
At the end of my high school career, after endless hours spent studying for exams and writing applications for college, I graduated with the intent of double majoring at Hopkins. With complete certainty, the first would be Writing Seminars. The second, Psychology, stemmed from classes like Forensic Science and AP Psychology which introduced a world of unknowns regarding the mind. So little is known about the brain and how we think, and this curiosity has stayed with me beyond high school. But there are so many routes one can go, how do you pick just one? I could study developmental and work with kids, or go the route of behavioral or cognitive. Or both!
The fall semester has quickly taught me that time is not as endless as I had once believed, and that my childish fantasy of three million careers is not sustainable. Yet the idea of settling into only one job for the rest of my life seems so bland, so restricting. What is there to do?
At the end of the story, Henry decides that the best thing for him to do at his age is to just dream away, and let the adult version of himself figure things out. Have I dreamed too long, or do I still have time to dream? As the registration day for the Spring approaches, I have a new goal to focus on. While I continue to research and explore the pathways I could take in life, I also force myself to make time to read, just as I used to during those endless childhood days. Page by page, poems and stories take me from my strange new room to far away places I can immerse myself in and find peace.
When all is said and done, I am sure I will look back to find most of my fears of missing out or wasting time to be unfounded. For now, I will continue to try new things, give in to my curiosity, and imagine myself with so many titles. But as I retreat to my books, I know not to place too much weight on such ambitions. My life will be full of adventure as I make my way through the world as only I can. Just as everyone else does. With (a bit more) time, I know all will become clear.
Saffron Hallett is a freshman from Shelton, Conn. studying Writing Seminars.
