I'm starting to think about my future, and it's scary.
I've always thought about what I might be when I am older: teacher, candy tester, and ruler of the world. A candy tester may not pay enough to support the lifestyle I dream about.
Teacher was, however, encouraged by everyone, and me being the ruler of the world gave people nightmares for months. Thus I decided that I would become a teacher. The best teacher in the world. I would be so good that my students would want to name me queen and rule over them. Soon the entire world would name me its queen. I would accomplish more than half of my dream jobs, while only doing half of the work. That's a win-win situation for me.
The grade I was going to teach moved as I did. In first grade, I was going to be a first-grade teacher. In second, a second-grade teacher, and I bet you can't guess what grade I wanted to teach in fifth grade. In middle school, however, I decided that I would teach third grade. And that is where it stayed. Third grade. Teacher. Nice.
But, as I grow older (ninth grade is so much older than eighth grade), I realize that teacher may not be the best option. Science confuses me, and I don't think that my students would appreciate teaching me that subject.
My non-scientific brain also excludes doctor from my list of possible jobs. Blood doesn't bother me, I wouldn't mind wearing the stretchy gloves, and I bet they have great snacks at the hospital, but I would be fired in a day.
"Ms. Thurber, are you ready to perform immediate surgery on this patient?"
"Umm," I quickly shove the rest of my two-ton chocolate bar in my mouth, "I guess so," gulp.
"The lung is punctured."
"Umm, OK." I step up to the operating table, open up the patient, and peer around … "Wait! Where's the lung? Is it next to the knee or the toe?"
Pause for a shudder ...
It wouldn't go too well. I will never be a doctor.
Another high-thinking job is a lawyer, which I will never be.
I would be called up to speak and freeze. I don't get stage fright, but I am not good at pleading my case. If I were about to lose, I would probably end up asking if anyone was hungry just to distract the judge. But, then I would have to buy a bunch of pizza for the judge and jury. Bummer. Lawyers also have to do research, and that does not sit well with me.
The amount of research required is also the reason why I will never be a reporter, salesperson, or decoder-of-secret-Government-Of-Chocolate-messages-sent-to-other-secret-societies-looking-to-take-over-Candyland. That would be one of the most stressful jobs imaginable. The fate of Candyland lies in my hands!
Even though there are many jobs that would not work for me, I'm sure that there is a perfect job out there calling to me. If I close my eyes really tight and imagine a little voice calling my name, I can almost hear it!
As a teenager, there are plenty of opportunities for us to try something, mess it up, try again, and mess it up again, and on and on. We just can't give up! We will eventually find what we are best at. We will eventually find our place in the world.
Miriam A. Thurber is a freshman at Unatego Central School. 'Teen Talk' columns can be found at www.thedailystar.com/teentalk.