My Forty Years in the Wilderness: Reflections on a Search for Career, Identity, and Self-Worth

I never thought I'd be an English major. Although I liked to write as a child, I had never enjoyed reading and as a child often had difficulty finding a book to borrow from the library.  The Short Story class I was taking was enjoyable but I didn’t see how it related to life. Who reads short stories other than academics and students? I needed to find a practical major. Two years of searching had left me disappointed and directionless. I was no longer looking for a dream job or a career. I had given up on that. I just needed a major.  And if I couldn’t find a major that provided a path to a job title, at least I needed to study something that would impact my life in the long run. And so I chose English, not because I loved literature and writing, but because I thought I would improve my writing ability, a skill I could transfer to a future career, whatever that would be. I was not particularly content with my situation.  The lack of certainty surrounding what I’d do w...

My dad didn’t want me to transfer out of Stanford and accepted my decision not to be pre-med. But my parents’ disapproval weighed heavy on my shoulders. It was the beginning of sophomore year and I needed to declare a major. Even more, I needed to prove I knew what I was doing when in fact I did not. Since I enjoyed traveling, I thought a degree in International Relations might prepare me up for a career in diplomacy. So I enrolled in Elementary Economics and International Politics, two entry-level courses for the major. Economics, I couldn’t understand. Even when given a 50% chance of answering correctly on tests (whether the demand would increase or decrease) I still couldn’t get it right. Afraid that I might fail, I chose the Pass/No Pass option for that class. My International Politics class also didn’t go well. I found a tutor to help me with my essays and I could barely understand the lecture or reading. I earned a B and had no idea what I had learned by the end of the quarter...

My mom flew with me to Taiwan. It was sweltering hot. She settled me in with some relatives and made sure I was in good hands. Her brother worked not far from my teaching assignment in Taipei. I stayed with my my grandfather’s brother and his wife in a nearby suburb. Before returning home my mom took me to Taiwan University Hospital to meet up with a nursing school classmate who worked there and ask if she could arrange for me to volunteer (candy stripe). The hospital was old, walls were cement, and stainless steel carts of instruments and food containers squeaked through the halls. I was repulsed by the smell of the hospital chemicals and had an overwhelming desire to bolt. I can’t remember the conversation, just that I never followed up on that suggestion.  This hospital encounter was followed by a magical summer. I found it deeply meaningful to connect with relatives I had grown up hearing stories about and to carve out a place for myself in my family history where strangely, ...

Stanford was an overachiever’s paradise. I was sure to flourish in the environment of exellence, intellectualism, learning, activism, clubs, dorms, and new friends. The campus was tranquil and conducive to dreaming. At the same time, starting day one, an undercurrent of anxiety about my major began gnawing at my mind. When someone would ask,  “So what are you going to major in?” I’d tentatively say “Biological Sciences” or respond apologetically that I wasn’t sure. The second day of  school I found myself in the Career Center searching for answers. I had developed a weekly ritual of stopping by the center, flipping through internship and job binders; scanning through books about careers (this was pre-internet) and collecting flyers. Some days I was hopeful, other days painfully aware of just going through the motions of a desperate routine. Fall quarter my schedule was packed with general requirements. My first pre-med course was not offered until winter. ...

As parents, what can we do to prepare our kids to make decisions about career? Talk about your work with your kids. Do they know what your work entails? Talk about what your friends do for work with your kids. Make it a habit to ask this question in conversation. For example, Uncle Lawrence is an insurance agent. What do you think he does? Make this a habit. And then the next time you see Uncle Lawrence encourage your child to ask him what he does. Ask if your teen can visit your friends and family at work. Host regular career nights where you invite friends and community members to your home to share about their careers. Start among your own friends and family. Or make it a habit of asking friends and family to share with your kids when you have gatherings. Start an exploration club with regular outings to places of work. Talk to your school counselor about how you might start something at the school. Ask them what resources are available. Consider applying f...

Declaring my major for the newspaper is a disturbing memory. What if I had written undeclared? Would I have been better off exploring my interests in high school than stacking up achievements? If not afraid to disappoint my parents, what major would I have written down? My interests then were languages, travel, psychology, and activism. I wanted to help people. But I could not connect my interests with careers, majors, or potential “jobs out there.” What types of a careers were out there? What could I possibly be or do? I wish I had more insight back then.  Could someone have helped me? I don’t know. I didn’t have the resources within myself to figure these things out. It is not that I hadn’t put any previous thought into it. I remember coming upon a brochure about an Asian American mental health/counseling clinic. (Rare at that time.) I could feel my heart beat faster as I picked it up. It resonated with me. I could picture myself working in that field. I showed it to my par...