I’ve never really known what I wanted to do in the future. As a child, I answered “teacher” to the infamous question of “What do you want to be when you grow up?” but only because it was the only job I could think of. As a middle-schooler, my answer varied from person to person, vacillating between some hems and haws in an attempt to feign certainty, as if a person just diving into the double-digit years could know exactly what they wanted out of their one and only life. As a senior in high-school, when the answer would finally matter and actually legitimize itself on official college applications, my mind echoed with the resoundingly hopeless answer of “I don’t know.”
