The excitement of uncertainty

Make post-college plans — but also don’t

My whole life, there has been a very clean-cut plan.

Graduate high school with honors. Attend a four-year university. Graduate with a degree in a field where I can make money while enjoying my work.

That was it. That was the plan. It was indisputable — supported by my parents, my extended family and my entire community. The plan was a given.

Now, as I approach my final semester of college, there is no plan. There are only resumes, job postings and desperate networking — while my home address hangs in the balance.

This is my situation and the situation of countless other students. For the first time, I don’t know where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing a year from now. It’s a situation that warrants nervous uncertainty, but also excitement.

It’s a situation I’m happy to be in.

The further I’ve voyaged into my college career, the more I’ve noticed the most important things I’ve learned haven’t been in lecture halls.

I’ve learned valuable lessons from my favorite journalism instructor, who taught me storytelling is an exhilarating, raw and virtuous calling. My adviser counseled me on more than my class schedule, getting to know me on a personal level and urging me to pursue the work force post-college. Every friend and co-worker I’ve met along the way has helped shaped my perspective of myself, of other people and of the world.

When I leave Moscow, I will have a sheet of paper that says I am certified to be a professional writer. I will possess the skills to edit a publication, write a grant or work on a creative team. But where will I go? What will I do? What is the plan?

Granted no career falls in my lap between now and May, it’s safe to bet I could start applying for a handful of jobs in my field in a number of cities and towns. I could also learn to be a river guide in Montana, or wait tables in an obscure Wyoming town during the mornings while I write the next great American novel at night.

I went to college to experience something new, something that would shape who I’ve become, and it undoubtedly has. That plan worked out.

And that’s why people make plans — to work toward some goal, to reach success. I have found success in college, but what does success look like post-gradation? That’s where the most important lesson I’ve ever learned comes into play: Success is relative.

People have no right to judge another’s idea of success. Making a good amount of money could mean success to one person, while raising a large family is success to another. Both are common aspirations, and both are valid.

I have no idea what my success will look like. At this point my only plan is to continue learning, traveling and telling more stories. Other students in my situation — other seniors with their early-life plans coming to fruition — should remember that sometimes the best plans aren’t plans at all.

Lyndsie Kiebert can be reached at [email protected] or on Twitter @lyndsie_kiebert 

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