Starting New: A Guide to Changing Paths

At the age of thirty-one, I am not going to pretend I am old or a veteran of the world in a meaningful sense. I will, however, describe my own experiences. I tend to take for granted the depth of my own experiences, and considering that I have changed careers once and hoping to do so again, I am hoping my self-reflection will help me discover new insights.

I began my career in marketing. My father worked in marketing for twenty-five years, and he was able to help me get a head-start with an internship. I worked in marketing in the e-commerce space for four years before he fell ill. He had developed a terminal illness, and while interviewing for Tesla, Google and other large companies– at the brink of a new stage of my career– I stopped my job search in its tracks. Third-round interviews for six figure positions– more money than I have seen in my life– were abandoned with brief apologies.

Instead, I returned to school. After repaying my student loans in full, I took out more and studied to become a teacher. I’m not sure what exactly pushed me to stick with this decision. Part of it was the work I had been doing as a water polo coach and the volunteering I had been doing as a bible study teacher. A large part was my desire to feel better about the way I lead my life. Marketing can feel icky sometimes. Sometimes it can feel like I am an omnivore hunting prey out of a taste for flesh and blood– simply to earn more and enjoy the luxuries afforded by a job done well. In each position I held, I would wind up spearheading some initiative to use private resources to do good. I helped my first workplace form a relationship with nonprofits in the area to protect animals and feed them with products we had that would have simply gone to the trash. I created a scholarship to help students pay for their tuition in my next position, and I helped make important, reliable information available to the public in both… however, everything I did was also for the bottom line.

When I started teaching, I knew that I wouldn’t change the world. I knew that teachers who want to change the world burn out. They feel defeated and empty after a few years of seeing their students fall through the cracks. I was told this by a veteran teacher, someone who had taught and encouraged me when I was in school. But, I also knew I loved the feeling of helping someone learn. I still do. When dots are connected and the eyes of a pupil light up– it feels euphoric.

My problem, however, is that I still did want to help people. It’s always been my problem. It’s been a problem because the world is a nasty place. There are structures and systems and they are designed to keep the rich wealthy and the poor dying. These systems have shaped our schools to the extent that I have to wonder what students are learning and if and how it is valuable.

For a year, I agonized in regret. I rued the day I abandoned financial success and a challenging career that had always created opportunities for growth. I could have become an email marketer, and like my mentor, even pivoted to an engineering position. I could have stuck with content and wound up at one of the most lucrative companies in the world. Why did I decide to change careers?

Why am I looking to change careers now?

I felt regret for months before I remembered. It is hard to be thankful for agony. It is hard to look back on months of suffering and hardship and to be grateful for electing to endure. When I think of the nights spent sobbing, those times spent holding my mom, or my dad’s eyes as he thanked me for being there… I cannot say I regret my decision. Even putting aside the students and their thank you cards and roses, even putting aside the growth I have experienced between then and now, I cannot for one second say that I regret any of the things that helped me be there for my parents in their time of need.

I think we forget where we were headed sometimes. I think we forget the reasons why we take a path once we pass the fork and it is long behind us. It’s easy to forget when our feet ache and our knees tremble from the weight of our travels, but I think regrets are just promises we are waiting to see fulfilled. I believe that there are moments of doubt in which the things we will someday cry about with nothing but love and warmth and gratitude simply appear to be mistakes. As I prepare to make another big change, I can see the fork again as I climb to a peak with the breathtaking vista of which I once dreamed. I can see it now and the path not taken. It looks easy. It looks boring. I can practically see myself walking along it, my head craned over at the path upon which I now stand– wondering, dreaming, waiting.

Would I have wished I had done things the hard way?

As I turn back to the path and the peak, I can see the trail and its dips and climbs. It splits again here and there. Some splits seem to make no difference in the quality of the hike. Others promise panic and warrant consideration. So, as I hike, I hold in my mind– which path will I take next?

I’m no stranger to hard hikes, but I do think the next path I take will be one that I enjoy. I deserve that. My legs are swollen, but they are strong. I would like to run free.

I think, in short, that I want to find a challenge that helps me grow but that keeps me comfortable. I want some time to heal.