Robert Frost wrote a poem about paths in life that can be taken.
We like to think of life as a kaleidoscope of possibilities—and that’s how our future potential is presented to us in school.
It’s attractive—but unfortunately, it’s also a lie.
Our culture says we can do anything and be whoever we want to be—as if a career is some heroic quest we undertake—but I don’t think we can accomplish any goal we want, especially, if it’s not in the direction of our lives.
You see we can’t manufacture giftedness.
I believe what Frederick Buechner said about vocation being ‘the place where your deep gladness meets the world’s deep need.’ Notice, he doesn’t say a thing about meeting others people’s deep needs.
As a high school Guidance Counsellor, I advise students on a daily basis regarding prospective careers, but I never counsel them to enter ‘smart’ professions, or go where the money is.
I have one simple rule: if what you do doesn’t flow from who you are, then it won’t work.
Oh, you can force yourself and try very hard—maybe, even be competent, but your life will be fragmented—and headed for a great fall—and nothing short of turning around and pursuing your first love, will ever put you together again.
“My pop wants me to be an aerodynamic engineer, like him.”
I’m looking at David Nakamura—one of our top students—and I’m wondering why we keep doing this to our children.
It’s not like the Auden poem where an average boy from the farm tries to please his folks by attempting the exceptional—David is exceptional and would probably make a very good engineer—but he’d probably also suffocate from boredom.
“What do you want to do?”
“You’ll probably laugh, Mr. Henderson, but I’d like to be an English Professor at university.”
“Why would I laugh?”
“Well, look at the courses I’m taking—Math, Physics and Chemistry—and I’m at the top of my class in all of them.”
“But are you happy?”
He smiles—a big white-toothed smile. David’s a bright and good-looking boy, but I don’t see him smile that often.
“Happiness is relative, don’t you think?”
“Relative to what?”
He sighs and the shadow of a frown crosses his face. “Relative to what my parents expect, I guess.”
I nod. “You feel an obligation then?”
“Well, yeah—my pop’s real successful and he brags about me to all his friends—says I’m going to follow him in the business.”
He might as well have said, ‘Duh, don’t you get it Man? —A guys gotta do what his folks want him to.’ But David’s not that kind of kid—he’s very respectful, and unfortunately, very burdened.
“I’d like to talk to your folks on Parents’ Night.”
He shakes his head. “It won’t do any good—my pop’s got his mind made up.”
“Ordinarily, I’d accept that David, but I’ve got to ask you—Whose life are we talking about here—yours or your pop’s?”
David sits back and gives a huge sigh. “Okay, Mr. Henderson—I guess it’s worth a try—but don’t get your hopes up.”
I look at David slumped in the chair opposite and know he’s talking about him, more than me.
“I’ll scope out courses available in English Lit in the universities you applied to—and I won’t lose heart. I suggest, David, you do the same.”
He gets up and shakes my hand like a man. “Thank you, Mr. Henderson. You know how much I appreciate you.”
I smile and watch him as he grabs his books and heads back to class.
He tries to blend in with the other students in the hall, horsing around, blowing off steam—but he’s already a man in a sea of youths.