Everyone knew that it was going to rain on our graduation ceremony, but not one of the graduates brought an umbrella. In our defense, we’d been rained on a lot since our freshman year, and we had long been immune to soggy jeans and cold fingers and toes. Plus, the rain made our rivers ripe for rafting and our campus a thousand shades of green. Wet-weather tolerance, however, wasn’t a skill that would prepare me for my career.
Our graduation ceremony reached the halfway point just before the downpour began. I looked over my shoulder at my parents, who sat under the stadium’s overhang, and smiled and shrugged. They waved and laughed. Then, someone’s father stood and maneuvered his way down the stadium’s steep steps, umbrella in hand. He walked across the track field to where we, the graduates, sat. His daughter met him at the thin rope that corralled us, and she took the outstretched handle of the umbrella from his grasp. My father was not far behind.
“Thanks, Dad,” I laughed.
“Sure, sweetie.” My dad smiled and returned to his seat, his gray hair and trench coat adorned with silver droplets. The symbolism of the act escaped no one — even as college graduates, we would still enjoy the sheltering efforts of our families. The privilege of it all embarrassed me as my lack of career direction occupied my thoughts. I still didn’t know what I wanted to do.
What Matters Most About College
Almost 20 years later, halfway through a career with many twists and turns, I can sum up my perspective on college in three ways. First, college is what you make of it. Don’t expect college to cure you of your naivety, or to reveal the perfect career path. Your success at college hinges on your effort to connect and engage (and I don’t mean on social media) with the professors and peers that share interests similar to yours.
Second, the most significant thing about a college degree is that most employers use it as a screening tool, or to separate your résumé from the hundreds of others piled in their inbox. Perhaps that practice will change, and I have no doubt that exceptions are made. But the change will be slow, and the exceptions are few.
Third, if you don’t have a passion for a particular career path, like I didn’t, college may not be the best place for you. There are other less expensive ways of finding a passion. Plus, the high price of college does not guarantee that you’ll find what you seek.
I’m glad that popular thought leaders like Seth Godin are speaking out about the perceived necessity of a college degree, and the unfair hoops and hurdles between a degree and a worthy mind. I hope the current class of high school grads already know that what matters most is your enthusiasm for what you want to do, and the connections you make with individuals inside the profession you hope to join.
Life and Career Advice Which You Won’t Want to Waste
In 1997, Mary Schmich wrote an article for the Chicago Tribune titled “Advice, Like Youth, Probably Just Wasted on the Young” which, after I heard the song adaptation by Baz Lurhmann, stuck with me. Today, as I consider the realm of career advice, and my own varied career path, Ms. Schmich’s sentiments feel even more relevant. Here are five of my favorite tips from Ms. Schmich’s article, and how I think they apply to today’s life and career paths:
Don’t fret about the future.
This is a big challenge for me. I’ve based many of my life and career decisions on my fears of what I didn’t want to happen in the future. In addition, Ms. Schmich advises that we shouldn’t berate or congratulate ourselves for our decisions. She reminds us that our decisions and their outcomes are half chance, and so are everyone else’s.
Do one thing each day that scares you.
I often ask myself how I can apply this to my daily routine at work. What can I do, that I wouldn’t normally do, to stretch my skills and improve my work relationships?
Don’t be careless with other people’s feelings. Don’t tolerate those who are careless with yours.
Simple, right? But, if we apply this to a workplace where the boss is a bully, or to a workplace situation where you lose your patience with those under your direction, this advice takes on new meaning.
Jealousy is a waste of time.
I’m not sure what the numbers are, but I bet there aren’t many people who feature their job titles or degrees on their tombstones. I wonder what would happen if we paid more attention to our “carved in-stone” achievements, or how we’d like to be remembered, rather than the attributes we often envy — the ones that look good on paper.
My final and favorite point, one regarding advice itself, is important enough that I will relay it here in its entirety:
“Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it’s worth.”
–Mary Schmich
In other words, be careful when taking advice on choosing a college or career path. Also, let’s be patient with those who provide us with this advice. A college degree and a career-driven mindset are traditional American paths, and perpetuating their immediate relevance is a way of familiarizing ourselves with our country’s future. Google, in the meantime, has found no direct correlation between the success of their employees and their education. Therefore, Google – a company of incredible influence and value – doesn’t require a degree from all of its applicants, and it’s not alone.
Where would I be today without my college degree? In truth, I would probably be someplace similar to where I am now. Every success I achieved throughout my career hinged on either my enthusiasm or who I knew inside the company. However, I can’t deny that the education section on my résumé opened doors to initial interviews, and that is where I believe we as a society can improve — by not automatically separating résumés based on what’s listed under the ‘education’ heading.
To be clear, I loved going to school and I liked being a college student. My parents believed in education and were able to support me, and so I ended up on a college track field in a cap and gown under their umbrella — despite not having any idea of what I wanted to become. What could we have done better? We could’ve approached college and the prospect of my career with a more thoughtful and personalized mindset. We could’ve begun with the end in mind.
Today, I hope to leave you with a few interesting questions: if you had to write and deliver a high school graduation speech, what would you emphasize and why? Is the first thing that comes to your mind the importance of a college education? Or are you filled with ideas about the lessons we should all learn, but that college cannot teach us?