After all my years in college, I can say that I have no idea what the future has in store for me, and yet, I am perfectly content.

I can also say I know my parents will support me no matter what. A few years ago, however, I would not be able to make the same statement I am making about them now. Not only did my parents grow up in a different time, but in a different country, as well. The Republic of the Philippines is not a wealthy country in any regard. Opportunities for financial fortune are slim, so my parents worked hard as nurses in order to bring my older sister and me to the United States about 15 years ago. Not many other professions would have allowed them to complete this task. That is why my mother and father would push my sister and me to be in a stable job like them.

When my sister and I mentioned ideas of other fields such as psychology, my parents would get upset and ask us what we thought we would do with a degree in something like that. My parents’ mindsets were still in typical Filipino parent mode, and they believed taking up nursing was the only way my sister and I were ever going to find jobs after graduation. Talking to their co-workers who had children with master’s degrees in marketing and journalism, but no jobs as of yet did not help either.

I love my parents, but I always slightly rebelled against their wishes and did not want to become a nurse, like almost every other person I knew with Filipino parents. I compromised with them by not taking nursing as I entered college, but another field that had a health aspect like nursing.

In the community college I attended before Binghamton, I took classes that would prepare me to be a respiratory therapist, a person who helped patients with breathing problems. I thought I would enjoy it, since it promised the feeling of happiness that comes with doing something rewarding.

However, day by day, I grew tired of my classes. I realized that if I continued with them and was admitted into the RT program, I would be miserable because my heart was not in it. I cried thinking about telling my parents how I did not want to be an RT. I had experienced a difficult time already telling them how I did not want to be a nurse. I knew they would not understand and accuse me of not caring about my future, which was far from the truth.

After gathering the courage to tell them of my decision after much struggling with their wishes for me, I am finally happy with where I am in life. When I tell others that I am an English major, some just ask me what in the world I would do with such a useless major.

First, I tell them it is not useless. Second, I just tell them I am not sure yet. I may teach abroad for a while and then go into publishing. I might even decide to do law in the future. I am just glad I am reading books that interest me instead of memorizing a billion terms for anatomy class. Maybe I am being an idealist or optimist (a possibly dangerous thing to be in a recession), but I believe whatever I am meant for will happen when the time comes.

I guess my point is that people should be true to themselves and believe in their strengths, and life will just fall into place eventually.