Some people think I aspire to be a failure. I have halted conversations, created gossip, and drawn quizzical, snide, or condescending looks — simply by admitting my career plans.
Princeton is more than a school. It's a competitive, elitist, larger-than-life name that comes with an oppressive weight called Expectation. (Missed it at first? It was behind the hefty price tag). I have this nightmare where after I graduate, everyone from my parents' friends to all the teachers I've ever had, from that random guy in lecture to Fred Hargadon, and even my stuffed goose from childhood gathers for a collective shout: "Now what do you have to show for yourself, PRINCETON GRADUATE!!!"
In this vision, Princeton is a big bowl. Students of various backgrounds and interests and talents pay huge sums to be thrown in, spun around, and funneled into exactly one type of career: Something Impressive. Those that wind up somewhere else? Well, they just wasted their money.
In 10 years I will probably be either a journalist or a high school English teacher.
Requirements for journalism: writing ability and experience. Average starting salary: $27,000. Requirements for teaching: a bachelor's degree and teacher certification. Average salary: $42,000. To enter either profession, I could have graduated in the bottom quarter of my high school class and attended a community college. I didn't have to study diligently in school and pay over $100,000 for a Princeton education. There is no question.
I'm sure that even those who do not read newspapers as obsessively as I do can say they have read atrocious articles. Pieces that were blatantly clichéd, formulaic, nonsensical. I'm sure that regardless of type of schooling (I attended public school for 13 years), we've all had our share of terrible teachers. Teachers who tried to prepare us for tests they themselves could barely pass. Teachers who muddled, not elucidated, subject material. Teachers who didn't care about their students. Our general lack of awe for these low-paying, visibly flawed professions is understandable. But the bottom line is, I find few satisfactions comparable to completing a piece of writing or to helping someone learn. It's what I enjoy most.
Some people think I aspire to be a failure, and I disagree.
I reject the idea that as a Princeton graduate, I must cloister myself into elitist occupations that by requirement are composed predominantly of people like myself—a continuation of the Princeton bubble, you could call it, expanded into the Ivy League bubble or the whatever-you-want-to-call-it bubble. I disdain the idea that such a thing should even exist. Why would I want to cut myself off from the majority of the population based on my schooling? Certainly not as a reassurance that YES, all those years of studying and all that money I spent WERE worth it, and I still AM better and smarter and more gifted than all those other people! NOT TO WORRY!!!
Right. Four years of that is enough for me, thanks.
I don't consider myself better than others who have lesser educations than I do; my own mother did not attend college. And I don't consider myself too good for professions with few requirements. High-power, high-stress, high-salary occupations are far from being the only ones that need well-educated people. After I graduate, I shouldn't have to prove through my career that my Princeton education was worth it or that I'm an alumna that Princeton can be proud of.
I wish people would ask me now, not later, whether my Princeton education is worth it to me. Ask me now whether I am intellectually challenged by my classes, my classmates, my professors. Ask me now whether I am satisfied with class size and reading material. Ask me now whether I think I've become a better thinker, writer, and analyst. Don't wait so you can observe my career and compare it to those of non-Princeton graduates.
My parents left their family, their friends, and their lives in Korea so that I could be born an American citizen and have a better life than theirs. In all likelihood, I will not have a nicer house, car, or wardrobe than they did. But they have accepted and encouraged my career plans. I am happy with my education, and they are glad.
I don't know what my future holds. Writing, teaching, something altogether different? Perhaps I will end up with a career enviable even by Princeton standards; perhaps (and probably) not. But I do know what I want to enter someday, what I consider to be the most challenging, honorable, and rewarding profession there is, Something Most Impressive.
Requirement for motherhood: a uterus. Salary: $0.
Julie Park is a sophomore from Wayne, N.J.
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