This spring I was shocked and honored to receive a request from the physics department at my alma mater, Drew University, asking me to attend their annual physics honors society induction dinner… as their keynote speaker. The department chair said he has been bringing alumni back approximately 15 years after graduation so they can share their stories about navigating the real world and landing in positions of success.

The supreme irony of this request is that I was never inducted into the physics honors society myself. I was the only student in the department the year I graduated who did not get into Sigma Pi Sigma – my GPA was too low by 0.02 points. While I didn’t mention that fact in my speech, I did use the opportunity to challenge traditional perceptions of “success” and what it means to be a “good” student. College was a rude awakening for me because it was the first time I actually had to work for my grades, but the things I learned outside the classroom shaped my future as much, if not more, than what I studied for my major.

Several of my colleagues have kids graduating from college this month, and based on how well my speech went with the physics department, I thought I would share the highlights here in case you or someone you know is having “what should I do with my life” concerns. Again, as someone who never knew the answer to that question (or had far too many answers to that question), I found it to be utterly baffling that the evening ended with young people seeking my advice on their post-graduation decisions. Fortunately, I’ve had some amazing guidance through my life, and I was able to pass along what my mentors once told me… things I didn’t believe at the time but have come to know as true.

My college advisor introduced me to the assembled group by saying that “life is better when you’re interested in things,” and remarked that he always left our conversations having learned something new about an interesting topic. As is made clear by my high school yearbook, I’ve certainly never had a shortage of interests.

A “Joke” to Lighten the Mood

I have heard it said that C-students run the world: they are the managers, while A-students, the specialists, work for them. In that same vein, I began my speech with a somewhat mean-spirited joke I heard at an alumni happy hour last fall…

“In looking at academic success and career paths of physics students, you can see this trend: A-students go on to be researchers; B-students go on to be teachers; C-students go on to the customer service counter at Bloomingdales.”

Fifteen years ago, I know I would have taken that joke personally, particularly since I was the only student not getting into the honors society, which was the height of embarrassment and disappointment for me. The reason I included this joke in my talk was not to make anyone who might be in the same situation feel bad, but to help them understand that this archaic perception can be harmful, and that it is not only valuable, but essential, for some of us to explore non-standard career paths that involve something other than researching or teaching.

I was one of those kids who was either a joy or a nightmare for teachers. I was interested in everything and also easily distracted by the next new thing or idea. Science especially was a love of mine since childhood because there was always something new and amazing to learn. And astronomy was my favorite: while several of my friends had glow in the dark stars on their ceilings, I was the only one who actually arranged them in the shapes of constellations.

I worked at the observatory in college, and we regularly had viewing parties for celestial events, such as the transit of Venus across the sun.
The t-shirt that I made says “Astronomy is looking up”

Despite my life-long love of science, I never expected to major in physics. I came to college planning on a double major in English and French, with a few humanities minors tossed in for good measure. As luck would have it, I had a great freshman seminar on sci-fi literature, taught by the astronomy professor. She encouraged me to take her astronomy class in the spring and then intro physics the next fall. My first day of sophomore year, I knew almost instantly that I was going to love physics, and I never got around to declaring that English major.

While I was at Drew, physics was just one part of my college experience. I was president of the wind ensemble and co-chair of the medieval club. I worked at the observatory, but I also worked in the language lab. I rode varsity equestrian and was in the anime club (teaching myself Japanese on the side). I did an internship my junior year… but it was with a theater company. I did an independent study research project my senior year… but it was in the art department. I loved that I could get a physics degree, but that it was in the broader context of a liberal arts education. Physics was the most important thing, but it certainly wasn’t the only thing.

I loved my classes, my professors, and my classmates. I had a lot of fun during my lab classes but knew that I didn’t want to spend my career in a lab. The other major path in physics is teaching, and I loved the idea that inspiring hundreds (or thousands) of young minds to love science (or at the very least be scientifically literate) could have a huge impact on the world.

Teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites, but I will say that one of my favorite things was genuine interactions with my students, and that was a hard thing to achieve in the formal classroom environment. I had the most out-of-class interaction time with my English speech contest kids, all over-achievers.

Exploring New Paths

Coming into senior year, I found out about the Japan Exchange and Teaching (JET) Programme and thought I could get some teaching experience before committing to that career path. Two short months after graduation I moved to a prefecture in northern Japan that no one had ever heard of: Fukushima. During the next two years I learned a lot about culture shock, loneliness, and independence. I made some life-long friends and chosen family… and I also realized that teaching was not for me.

My students were wonderful, but the rigid education system was not. I had an incredible time interacting with my students, but those valuable teachable moments rarely happened in the classroom. More often than not, the formal structure of the classroom inhibited the risk-taking and vulnerability that comes with true learning. However, if I ran into some of my students in town, outside of school, we could talk more casually and learn from each other.

One unexpected pleasure I had while living there was nerding-out over energy production in Japan. Since it’s an island, they have to produce all of their own energy or import it in the form of natural gas, oil, or coal. The first wind turbines I ever saw in person were in Fukushima. I had a huge hydroelectric station five minutes from my apartment and one of the biggest geothermal plants in the country half an hour from my town. Between nuclear, hydro, geothermal, wind, biomass, and seaports for fossil imports, Fukushima was the top energy-producing prefecture in the country – even without nuclear, it’s in the top five. The country also puts a big focus on recycling, since there’s really nowhere to go with the garbage. I had to sort my trash into seven different categories… and in doing so, I became incredibly mindful of how individual actions contribute to overall impacts on the environment.

Teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites, but I was shocked to learn that there was no correlation between who my favorites were and how well they did in my class. That realization shattered the life-long misconception that I had to get good grades for my teachers to like me.

Japan was a wonderful way to put off a career decision for two years. Because of that experience, I learned that educating and connecting with others were important to me, but that I didn’t want to be stuck in a classroom for my career. At this point, I was really at a loss. What do you do with a bachelor’s degree in physics when you don’t want to be in a lab or a classroom? I made it back to the US just weeks before the economic crash in 2008 when no one was hiring anyway – at least not with my level of expertise.

I thought back to my days at college and what really brought me joy. Running the medieval club was central to my college experience. I loved the creativity and theatrics of planning and producing events, the management aspect of coordinating multiple initiatives at once, and the business of budgeting and planning. It seemed like something related to nonprofit management or arts administration would be a good place to start, so I began to look at graduate programs… so I could rack up more student debt in the middle of a recession.

~

I’ll be back with the conclusion next week. In the meantime, I’d love to hear about choices you’ve made in studies or work that have impacted your direction in life.
Thanks for reading!

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1 Comment

Jean · May 17, 2021 at 4:08 am

I loved learning so much about you that I didn’t know. I’m so proud you are part of our family and admire your achievements.

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