Back in year 10, I didn’t think too much about university, didn’t know what I was going to do - and definitely wasn’t certain if I was going anywhere at all. But in the back of my mind somewhere, I knew I’d get “there”; I’d be OK. That was my approach and I guess that’s always been my approach. Be calm, do the things you like and you get where you want.
Being the youngest in a family with eight kids meant I had a few standards to live up to. But I just did my best to ignore the added pressure because stressing never worked for me. I liked math (shock horror) and I liked science (except evil physics) so I just stuck with them. Literature and the arts were fun and I did them too. Back then, I was split between the two options.
Going to open days was helpful, but what really made up my mind was hearing from the people who actually worked in those fields… and science won! Now the problem was convincing everyone else science was OK. ‘Scientist’ didn’t have the classy appeal of ‘doctor’ or ‘lawyer’. Instead, images of men with white hair in the basement sprang to mind. But it was what I liked, because let’s face it, science is everywhere and discovering stuff is fun.
It doesn’t have to be science. When you finally read a poem that touches your core, or find for the first time something you cherish, it’s great. It hasn’t been all school that’s kept me going. University has been good for me. Without the rigorous day-to-day schedules, I’m freer to do the things I want. While you’re at uni, join a club or two; it’s fun. And what is learnt is so much more interesting than the dryness of high school. Or so it was for me. The only sad thing is your friends might not always be around, but with a little effort to stay in touch, that can be overcome. And you meet heaps of cool new people too.
I don’t know where I’ll go eventually. Being a researcher sounds like something that could work, but research what? If I take things as they come, it’ll be all right.