In mid-July, I went to a small high school graduation ceremony which invited several alumni to share their thoughts about college life. They all attend or have already graduated from amazing, prestigious colleges. I thought they were going to share their experiences of “enjoying college life,” but in fact, what they shared were “how to find a good job after college” or “how to get into a prestigious graduate program.” One alumnus told a student who just graduated from high school and is excited about going to college, “You should start to think about getting an internship next summer.”
Starting from some point in my sophomore year, everyone around me began to talk about their summer plans. Some of them applied for 20 intern positions. Some wanted to be research assistants. Some were still wandering and anxious. Everyone was discussing their summer plans or asking others’ summer plans in Commons. At the end of March, almost everyone around me knew what they would do in summer.
I remember that one of my friends said: “If you want to get a decent job offer in your senior year before graduation, you likely have to intern in that organization in your junior summer and get a return offer. Then you probably need another internship in your sophomore summer to build your resume and show them your working experience.” The next sentence would be, if you want to have a summer internship on your resume for your sophomore summer, you have to start to apply right after winter break. Then you have to write a cover letter, edit your resume, and find people to write letters of recommendation in your sophomore fall, which is just one year after you enter college. Do I really know what I want to do as a 19-year-old who just came to college for a year? This might sound a little bit exaggerated, but this is exactly the atmosphere I feel.
This not only applies for people who have a professional goal but also happens to students who want to continue studies, by going to graduate school or getting a PhD, for instance. One has to show they already have some kinds of research experience, such as having worked in a lab or having conducted individual research. The door will only open to those who clearly know the rules of the game.
Why is knowing the rules of the game so important? Can I just continue going without knowing my goal and the path toward my goal? I will figure something out, right? Here, knowing the rules of the game is a symbol of having control and turning “unknown” to “known.” Unknown things are scary. You probably don’t want to lose something without knowing the reason behind it.
In this game, everyone becomes an athlete. No offense to student athletes. Everyone in the game is attending the intellectual, background-competing, cv-based Olympic game. You are your own coach. You watch the video from the previous game and perceive the brand of the swimming suit the winner wore. You research the practice schedule and daily meals of the champion, attempting to emulate their success because you recognize this is how to succeed.
In this century, we no longer rely on encyclopedias, thanks to Wikipedia. We no longer use our feet to find the way to CVS; we use Google Maps, where the answer is always at hand. We no longer spend time doing endless exploration without a goal, but sit in front of the table, find the way to our destiny, and then go. The only thing one has to make sure is whether they are on that way. Any kind of straying from the path can make them anxious. They not only know the panorama but also sense which point they are at in the panorama. Building that A+ profile is a stop on this trip from a panorama view.
After all these, how would you spend your next summer? I really don’t know. It’s still a long time from now. Do I really need to know? Maybe the person standing next to me also doesn’t know. If we all don’t know, why are we so anxious?
