Careers: I’m Still Working On It
I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
When I was a child, I wanted to be everything from a teacher to a doctor to an entomologist. My imagination was big when I was a child, but even then, I realized dreams can only go so far and I emulated what I saw. I imagined myself in roles that I saw around me. I grew up and so did my dreams.
I’ve had many jobs in my working years. Whether that’s from my mental illness, my natural propensity towards flitting about like a butterfly, the fact that I was in a frighteningly small town with no job prospects for ten years, or the fact that I raised my kids and put more focus on their well-being than my career, I don’t know. But I’d like to think my kids look back and recognize I was there for them, that the sacrifice of not having a demanding, rewarding career was worth it to have well-adjusted kids who knew their mom was in their corner for the majority of their young lives and that made a difference to them.
I’ve tried my hand at corn detasseling and being a pizza maker, university operator, undergraduate lab and field technician, graduate research technician, ruminant technician, water quality specialist, overnight coordinator for a women’s shelter, school vocational paraprofessional, town development associate, composting consultant, statewide art coordinator, fast food worker, health care aide, county dispatcher, and agronomist for an environmental consulting firm. My current job is as a sales support specialist for a seed company.
That’s a long list. I always had it in my mind that I was supposed to aim high, find a stable job, and stay there. That just hasn’t happened. And some people find a “calling”, a role or place they work for that they love and honestly feel they belong and were born to be doing what they’re doing. I never found that either. Some people have a calling. Some people go to work just to pay their bills. Some people hop from job to job, some people find somewhere and stay there for years. I don’t think there’s a magic formula to it all. If there is, I haven’t found it. Living in a town of under seven hundred people certainly lowered my job prospects for a while. And having children as my main focus did too. Hey — children are work, too. But you don’t get paid for that. Not with money anyhow. I also recently had to start over again with a place that would offer me benefits and paid time off. After seven years, the person I was working for wouldn’t pay me for time off, and he couldn’t guarantee me benefits or full-time work. Sometimes you just have to know when it’s time to move on.
And you know what I think adults are doing when they ask kids what they want to be when they grow up?
Getting ideas.
I sure need some. Because I’ve been working since I was 15, and I still don’t know what I want to be.
But I know I don’t feel useful unless I’m working on something.
And I know I’m capable enough that I can learn new things. I have a degree in agronomy — the science part of crops and soil — and I work for a seed company, but right now my job deals with shipping and invoicing. Not in my comfort zone. But at least I’m in the industry for which I earned my degree. And frankly, if you asked me where my comfort zone was — I’ve moved around so much and have had to adjust to what other people demanded and needed of me — I’m not even sure of where my own comfort zone really is.
So maybe we need another definition of work or career or success other than placing a monetary value on it, or the number of years you’ve been on the job. Maybe my goal or aim to success in life isn’t to climb the corporate ladder, but to have two kids that look at me as someone they can depend on, and to have enough money to pay the bills with enough time and energy afterward to do what I love, like write and draw and be with my family and friends.
Maybe a life spent working isn’t my goal after all. Maybe my calling isn’t a traditional career where I spend years at one company, becoming the supervisor and leader and well known there. Maybe my calling is being an author and artist and parent instead.
And maybe I’m okay with that.
Hey, I’m still working on it.
8–18–21
Tansy Julie Soaring Eagle Paschold
