Stumbling Upon My Dream Job
Life has a way of surprising us, and some surprises are heartwarming.
A few days ago, I received a text from one of my former undergraduate students, who is now pursuing her postgraduate degree in another state. She expressed how much she missed me and shared that every lecture at her new university reminded her of my lessons. She thanked me for the impact my teaching had on her learning experience. Her kind words and expression of gratitude moved me deeply.
Her heartfelt message made me reflect on the unexpected journey I took to become a professor, a journey I had never planned for.
Growing up, I had several ideas about what I wanted to do with my life. But becoming a professor was never one of them. Teaching, in my view, was too conventional. I wanted to do something fun, something creative.
As a child, I loved watching crime shows and was intrigued by the adventures of the detectives and cops. The thrill of solving complex cases, unravelling mysteries, visiting crime scenes, and chasing criminals became the foundation of my earliest dream: to be a police officer. I recall how my cousins and I used to play make-believe games, taking turns to be the cop and chase each other through makeshift hills, walls and chasms. Our childhood adventures soon came to an end when I moved to another city.
As I started middle school, my childhood desire for adventure gave way to a growing curiosity about the world around me. I wanted to know why things were the way they were. I had too many questions in my mind: Why do meteors fall? Why does it rain? Why do we dream? I had a deep yearning to comprehend the science behind everything. The more I read, the more I wanted to know. Driven by my growing curiosity, I decided to become a scientist when I grew up and solve the mysteries of the universe.
In high school, I realized there was also a creative and imaginative side to me. As I began tapping into my imagination and creativity, I wanted to channel it into a potential career. When I discovered my eye for beauty, I wanted to become a designer. When I enjoyed recording a radio show for a school project, I wanted to become an RJ. When my teacher praised my writing skills, I wanted to become a writer.
Each new experience opened up a door to a new world, and I swiftly moved from one world to the next. Did I think I was talented enough to succeed at all these jobs? Not really! I was only a dabbler. But, I knew these were potential career options I would truly enjoy, so I was willing to hone my skills. As I explored different interests and realized that creative self-expression was a non-negotiable, I understood why a 9-to-5 office job never appealed to me. I wanted to bring my entire personality into my work.
After I completed senior secondary school, my parents gifted me a digital camera. As I spent the next few months fiddling with my camera 24/7, I soon found my niche. I really enjoyed macro photography — looking at things up close and revealing intricate patterns hidden from the naked eye. I was much more serious about photography than I had ever been about designing or RJing, and I could easily envision myself as a photographer. I set up a Facebook page and started sharing my work online. The appreciation I received spurred me on, and I planned to apply to a premier institute in my country for a photography course. The course required a bachelor’s degree, so I had to find a stop-gap for three years.
I had always been a bookworm and believed that literature would be the perfect stop-gap before I gave myself fully to my dream of becoming a photographer. Both photography and literature are powerful forms of storytelling, and I thought pursuing a degree in literature would broaden my career options even more.
Even though this degree was supposed to be a stand-in, it inevitably deepened my love for literature and gave me some time to introspect about my career options. I soon realized that I not only wanted my work to be fun and creative but also consequential. I wanted to make a difference through my work.
By the time I completed my three-year bachelor’s course, I no longer saw photography as a fulfilling career and I still hadn’t figured out what I wanted to do with my life. I thought if I enjoyed my bachelor’s degree so much, I’d certainly enjoy another two years of engaging with literature. So, I decided to pursue a master’s degree in literature.
Had someone asked me back then what I wanted to do with a master’s degree, I couldn’t have answered. I had no goal in mind other than continuing to engage with something I so thoroughly enjoyed.
Did I intend to enter academia eventually, as most students with a master’s degree do? Not in the least. I didn’t think of teaching as particularly fun or creative. Moreover, as a socially anxious person who hated being the centre of attention, I didn’t think I would ever excel as a teacher. While I used to help my friends with their lessons, the idea of teaching an entire class felt way too daunting.
But when I eventually applied for a position in academia, it seemed like the most natural thing to do. I couldn’t explain why it felt so natural; all I could say was I had no reason not to apply for a job I was eligible for. When I got the job, I didn’t have any second thoughts about it. It felt like things were unfolding as they were supposed to, and I was effortlessly going with the flow. And somehow, it felt right, as if this was what I had wanted all along. Everything felt effortless, almost destined.
It was only after stepping into the role of a professor that I realized it was indeed meant to be. Teaching was my calling all along.
Teaching ticked all the criteria in my checklist for an ideal job. Why I ever doubted teaching could be fun is beyond me. My interaction with my students inside the classroom is both meaningful and fun. The classroom is where I am in my element. I have the liberty to bring my entire personality into my lessons.
What’s more? Teaching is not only creatively fulfilling, but I also get to make a difference. Nothing is more rewarding to me than the look of understanding that dawns on a student’s face on grasping a difficult concept. Nothing fulfils me more than watching my students grow by leaps and bounds in just a few years. I am deeply grateful for the realization that no matter how small, I get to play a part in their growth. No other career would have given me this level of happiness and fulfilment.
With all the different career paths I had envisioned for myself, it’s quite a surprise that I found fulfilment in teaching, something I had always dismissed as too conventional.
Life has a way of surprising us, and some surprises are truly heartwarming.
