My last day of “school” was in 2012. It wasn’t the “last” strictly speaking, but it marked an ending of sorts. I sat in a professor’s office at the University of Washington. An old, old man was frowning at me from behind a big, cluttered desk, a wall of books behind him. He was explaining why I could never be a historian.
This unnamed professor was nice about it, of course. And he was realistic. First and foremost, my BA wasn’t in History. And anyways the numbers don’t lie: a crisis of surplus labor reaches back to the 70s. It doesn’t mean that academia is closed to all, but it’s a far cry from the halcyon mid-century era of ample funding and multiple job offers.
But the academic historian is not the only type of historian. This was the crucial fact omitted on that spring day, when I walked off and into another industry entirely. In fact, it wasn’t until 2020 that I first heard the phrase “Public History,” and an old dream was rekindled.
I’d blame myself for that 8 year interim, but what’s the point?
I could just as easily blame an undergraduate career that was meandering and indecisive. (Acting 101 AND Theories of Color, anyone?)
Anyways, for a long time, I did try blaming myself. “So many missed opportunities! Such a lack of committed effort! The entitlement! The arrogance!” And that was that.
But self-criticism is like any other medicine: the right dose differentiates a poison from a remedy. That same self-criticism paralyzed for years. And today, as I’m packing a backpack for my first day as a matriculating student in 9 years, I’m retracing the path I took to get here:
the emphasis on the high school to college pathway can backfire
There are plenty of people who went straight from High School to Undergrad, enjoyed a fruitful education, and entered a rewarding career. But there are also some who leapt into undergrad due to social expectations, feeling it was at least the safer error. I fell into that second group, privileged to be there, no idea WHY I’m there.
The burning emphasis on getting into college creates a group of students who don’t know what to do once they’ve won the all important college admissions letter. They often lack an accurate valuation of the academy, and they’re not the only ones. Not only that, but only some can resolve these questions over the course of a 4 year degree. Many friends of mine are – like me – switching careers for the 1st, 2nd, or 3rd time.
And that’s good! No one should stick in a career that they don’t like. But the crucial note here is that professional experience guided their decisions, not academic experience. Certainly, there are less expensive ways to answer questions of purpose than four years of tuition.
DISCLAIMER: there are a lot of good reasons to go to college right out of high school, and no teenage readers should take this as an outright condemnation of University. But a college degree should be means to an end, not the end goal itself: Teenagers already struggle with long term planning and the transitions from family structure to independent flexibility.
growth mindset is the best mindset
At 22, with my english degree in hand, I went to my first job out of college: working in a warehouse. I didn’t enjoy it. I worked 9-5, went to happy hour, enjoyed my weekends off, and thought: welp, here’s adulthood. Bit drab, isn’t it?
It took me a while to find out that continuing education was the solution! It’s easy to falsely attribute a monopoly to the academy. The social importance of a college diploma also helps obscures the many opportunities for learning outside of the academic setting. Not that these experiences are substitutes for a degree, but that too is a limiting perspective: Not every skill you have needs to be economically justifiable!
In this information age, anyone can start anywhere: learn to code in R! or make a tabletop drinking game! or build a better wifi booster! The world of educational podcasts alone is endlessly enriching!
It took a lot of time futzing around after work: plunking on a guitar, writing a novel that no one will read, fiddling around with secondhand woodworking tools, the list goes on and on. But eventually I recognized something. The time I once spent playing video games was now spent on repeating that same cycle of challenge -> failure -> practice -> success in the real world! (IRL for my younger readers) And this series of failures and eventual successes were building self-confidence and ambition in ways that RDR, Rocket League, and Civ simply did not.
DISCLAIMER: I’m not saying stop playing video games. Gaming is fun. But I am saying that there are many ways to have fun, and everyone should try something new whenever possible.
test the waters
I graduated high school thinking I wanted to be a novelist. Next came film director. Then came (my cynical period) lawyer. At my warehouse job I flirted with a career in fulfillment and logistics! After this weird pathway of indecision and abandoned careers, my first reaction to the history passion was to cure myself of it.
I imagined that my interest in the past would wither at first contact with the rigors of professional, academic, “serious” history. So I started reading. An excellent reading list provided material, and some reassurance that my interest went beyond the “buff.” Instead of losing interest, I was surprised by an enduring appreciation for Collingwood, Braudel, Ginzburg, and others.
Next up came Spokane Falls Community College and a load of classes to see if I could even handle going back to school after so many years of work. Again, I thought that my hobby, my pastime, my status as a mere “buff” would wilt in the face of assignments, papers, deadlines, etc.
The opposite again occurred! An absolutely enriching experience finally taught me the term “Public History,” and pointed out a rewarding field of study and work.
The final test – and reader, I understand that most would stop testing the waters by now, but I’m nothing if not hesitant – came at Eastern Washington University. Graduate level history work – along with generous, accessible, encouraging professors – at long last convinced me to make the leap into a Public History program, and the pursuit of a new career.
it’s never too late
now we’re getting a little trite, aren’t we? It’s cheesy, it’s overstated, yet true it remains: today is the first day of your (non-renewable) life. A more negative take says: you’ll never get today (this month, this year) back again.
Yet in my head, a doubting voice persisted: “your uninteresting career is the fruit of your squandered education.” Another said: “anyone else would be happy to have your job!”
Someone online shared the neat trick of naming your inner critic. I call mine Sid – that character in Toy Story who terrified me as a kid. No one should ever let Sid dictate their life. And the fact that I had wasted (my words, and not wholly accurate) 4 years of one college education didn’t mean that I wasn’t permitted another shot.
If anything – and here I’m drawing on my woodworking/video gaming experiences – past failure is a prerequisite to future success.
Today is the first day of my Public History MA program at Central Connecticut State University. I’m excited because it’s an overdue first step that I’ve finally convinced myself to take.
Today, I’m a better student because I’ve been a bad student. I’ll be a better historian because I’ve been told I can’t be a historian. And for a 31 year old, for someone nearly a decade removed from undergrad, someone without a BA in history and unrelated professional experience, I see myself on the outside track, racing against the ideal of a historian that I can never be.
Sid doesn’t stand a chance.
