Well, growing up a Jehovah’s Witness, I more or less didn’t take any plans seriously because Armaggedon was going happen way before I graduated.
After Armaggedon I was apparently going to spend a lot of time gathering fruit and feeding bales of hay to pet lions, according to the pictures in the JW literature.
As it turned out, I graduated coming up on 29 years ago, and have worked at various office jobs, mostly accounts payable.
I suppose if I had even halfway tried, I might’ve made a go of satirical writing, but clinical depression has a way of deflating things. Most of the time, I’m just glad to have enough energy to keep myself working for enough cash for food and clothing.
I just started writing again after a 10 year dry spell. Maybe this time will be different. Laura Ingalls didn’t publish until she was 65.
First, I wanted to be a scientist (3rd grade poster “About Me”). Then, in high school, I had a more accurate reference, aerospace engineer (still have the “career essay” in my file). By senior year, I had a course change - marketing. Finally, in a library career guide (I can’t believe one of those things is actually accurate), I found the title for what I want to be: Medical Records and Health Information Technician.
I went to college and took all of the business courses. Figured I’d be a fat cat, sitting behind a desk, smoking a cigar, and saying “Do your job!”
First job out of school: basic travel agent. I enjoyed the perks, but the pay was lousy. Still, I stuck with it–for 25 years. I did everything you can imagine: domestic agent, government-travel agent, Groups/Meeting Coordinator, International Agent, instructor, and then manager.
The money still sucked. Then 9/11 happened. Travel tubed. Time to move on.
Now I take x-rays, and I enjoy it more than any of the travel jobs I’ve had. And I make more money than I could ever hope for in the travel biz.
Life’s good, and I just figured out that I have less than 2,000 days until I retire.
I was going to be a marine biologist, single, living in a virtual shack on a beach by myself.
Turned out my grasp of certain areas of math sucked, so instead I opted for accounting temporarily to support me while I wrote. Still aiming for that hermit hut on a beach.
23 years later I’m a married accountant in the Midwest, but I still hope to get that shack on the beach someday. My husband wants to come along too, as soon as we pay everything off so we can get rid of it.
I wanted to be an actuary when I left school. I did become an actuary, and nearly thirty years later, I still am an actuary. It’s interesting and well paid.
When I was in 5th grade, I was going to be a “computer scientist” as they were called back then. Had no idea what one did, but that was what I was planning on.
After high school and working shit jobs for a year, I eventually came on my mission to Japan, and thought it was really cool. Eventually I figured out I wanted to “do something” over here, and I’ve been “doing something” here for 18 years.
I’ve always figured I was going to have kids and a house, and with the birth of my daughter last October and our new home, it’s coming in place.
Of course, the years of therapy, still ongoing, to overcome the childhood of abuse, is helping.
I wound up being an oceanographer. Years later I went back to medical school and became a radiologist. While I was a resident I developed an invention (patent pending) for making CAT-scan guided biopsies more accurate.
Overall, I think I came pretty close to the mad scientist goal. I also married the love of my life, a woman whom I absolutely adore.
Wanted to be a doctor, now I sell health insurance. I don’t regret it. Once I figured out why I truly wanted to be a doctor, the idea of the whole thing became reprehensible to me. Now I run my own business and my life.
In high school, I had three dream career options. The first was to be a doctor. The second was to be a psychologist. The third was to be a translator or interpreter. The first option was no good because I am horrible at math and physics. The third option was no good because while translating is fun, I couldn’t see myself do it for the rest of my life.
Thusly, I went for the second option. However, I failed to get into the psychologist programme. The admission scores were, and are, really high and with my poor mathematical sense I didn’t see myself get into it. Instead I followed my Plan B, which was to get a bachelor’s degree in social work, which would give me similar career options. My dream then was to do councelling in a hospital environment.
However, while the field still appeals to me, it struck me that I might not be fit to treat people the way I had envisioned it. During the course of the education I found that it is really difficult and straining for both psychologists and social workers. Also, I found that while the education was pretty good, it really didn’t challenge me academically, so I started to work on a double major and took up labour law, since that course had vacant positions and seemed interesting. By the end of next semester I will have a master’s degree in social work and a bachelor’s degree in business law.
And I’m more confused than ever.
The *Wonder Years *answer is of course pro baseball player. It was obvious at 6 that I didn’t have the talent.
As a young child I thought about archeology, paleontology and astronomy. Later I realized that you don’t get paid to dig shit up, you have to teach. And astronomy is not getting paid to look in a telescope, there is a lot of math.
After graduating high school I had a vague thought of doing something to make money. I was going into finance to become rich. What do you expect, it was the 80s. After a couple of years of college I realized I didn’t like being in school and I didn’t want to be tied to a desk. So I dropped out and joined the Army.
After I came off active duty I joined the cubicle world. Advancement was very slow and uncertain. Several people in my guard unit were cops. I found out my assumptions about the job were very wrong. It seemed ideal for me. It is not an easy process but I got hired about two years later in the town I grew up in. I got lucky, there were a lot of retirements and they had to hire quite a few new people. So I became a police officer. Something kids think about growing up and becoming when they are small but I never did.
I wanted to be an astronomer. I spent pretty much every waking hour as an undergrad trying to get into astronomy grad school. When I did get into grad school, I found that I didn’t get along well at all with my advisor. I dropped out with a Master’s degree and went into IT instead. It’s interesting work, pays well, has way better hours than being a professor of astronomy (Mr. Neville is one, so I get to see what it’s like), and I still don’t have to wear a suit, makeup, pantyhose, or high heels (all of which I hate) to work.
First I was going to be a computer programmer, but Pure and Applied in cégep shitcanned that. (The day I walked out of the last calculus I’ll ever have to do in my entire life is still in my top 10.)
Then I was going to be a librarian, but getting incredibly depressed while working in an actual library nixed that one.
Then I was going to be a social worker, but I decided I wasn’t empathetic enough.
Then I was pointed towards some translating gigs, and I’ve made a career of it.
I also wanted to be married by now, but that hasn’t happened, and as much as I hate to admit it it’s in all probability a good thing.
My first real goal, at age 10 or so, was to become an automobile designer. I loved drawing technical stuff, had a creative streak, a geeky side and a lust for a materialistic, modern way of life (fitting for the '80’s).
All this withered away as I found archeology - the perfect outlet for my thinker, writer, researcher qualities - a couple of years later. (The realities of the brutal competitiveness and pressure of a designer career dawning on me surely helped the transition). But even getting a college degree became a question mark once I plunged into a multi-year depression in my late teens, at the crucial moment.
I’m 32 now and fast on my way to becoming a professional archeologist - a decade late, but who cares?
I was going to be a high school biology teacher. In college, I stupidly let myself be talked out of the education track and into pre-med. Looking back on it, I still can’t believe I was that deluded. I graduated college but my grades weren’t good enough for med school, and I wound up back in my farm town washing dishes at a diner.
Long story short, I joined the army to get away and after serving my time, I got out and married the perfect woman who talked me into going to school for technology and library science. The tech didn’t take, but the library science sure did, and 14-plus years after graduating with a B.S., I’m finally back in grad school to get my second masters in education. It probably won’t be in high school, and certainly won’t be in biology (I’m on the ESL track), but I’d like to either teach bibliographic instruction in a library or–Dare I hope?–help foreign workers acclimate and learn in a corporate setting.
FTR, I firmly believe that I’m happier with how my life actually worked out than I would have been if I’d wound up teaching in some PA high school during my 20’s like I’d originally planned, if for no other reason than I learned a hell of a lot in the army and married Mrs. Fresh. It’s not like I couldn’t have done better or accomplished more had I been a bit more sensible, but I can’t really see how my life could have turned out all that better than it has. It’s weird to think that my flaws and delusions actually helped me find a better life, but there you are. It just goes to show that your mistakes and faults are every bit as important as your good points, and you should learn from and celebrate your screw-ups as much as you do your successes. Or something like that.
Expected:
I had a childhood filled with high expectations of me from parents and teachers. I fully expected to be a significant contributor to some cutting-edge area of science, have a good salary, wife, kids, home in the suburbs.
Got:
Married, had kids, went to grad school in computer science, got a job developing speech-recognition software, bought a house. Miserable.
Then:
Didn’t finish the PhD, company went under, lost the house, declared bankruptcy, separated from wife, moved into parents’ basement. Stressed.
Now:
Unemployed, still in parents’ basement, still separated, but relationship improving, made peace with self-expectations. Happy.
I’m glad somebody wants to teach b.i. It is not much of an exaggeration to say that the prospect of teaching b.i. was in and of itself enough to keep me out of the academic track in library school.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life, but thought about teaching. Unfortunately, I had the right kid with the wrong guy, yadda, yadda. I’m supporting myself and satisfied with that portion of my life, but I’d like to pursue creating art again. My head just isn’t into it at the moment.
I was not and am still not sure what I want(ed) to be when I grow/grew up. Except happy. And I am. I’m in IT management at a very good company, I am so happily married I could plotz and I have plenty of hobbies and pets to keep me happy and completely fulfilled.
Thanks for the props. I don’t want to pry too hard or drag this thread off topic, but your answer is very interesting. In the Greater Boston area, BI jobs are sought after, and the competition for even an entry level job has always been pretty high, even before the recession hit. Do you find that other areas need BI teachers, or is this more of a personal thing?
