“The problem with Monica is she wants to have her cake and eat it too.”
Oddly enough, I’ve never been criticized for having too much ambition before. I’ve been criticized for a great number of things, most of which I’ve attempted to fix within my twenty years of development, but I’ve never encountered an external criticism of my choice of activities. This quote arose specifically in regards to the balance between research and swimming, and has been brewing for quite a while now. I’ve sought advice from many people, and yet the choice—of doing solely research, or attempting to do both research and swimming—is entirely my own.
It brings up the question of the purpose of a liberal arts education. This is not a connection I initially made, but it has been brought to my attention by many caring friends. The point, they say, of attending a college like Wellesley is so that we can have balance, gaining a broader picture of the world rather than the narrowing of interests that occurs in a more specialized program. My counterargument would be that I am being less balanced with each passing semester; I am quite happy if I have four classes in different areas of science.
What classes should I be taking? Should I try to become more balanced? It depends on my goal in attending college, and moreover what the goal is for attending college. I feel that as we get older, we are encouraged to become more and more specific in our interests, so that we can make a difference in whatever we choose to focus in. Humans don’t have enough time to become very good at more than one or two things.
It seems like our geniuses know this from the beginning. They know what they are interested in, and pursue this at the expense of a more “rounded” education. They are therefore able to make a much larger impact on the world, and do so earlier. It falls back on what they like, however—what they feel drawn to. How come the rest of us don’t know what we’re drawn to—a sentiment often expressed by underclasswomen in college? Is this why we are attending a liberal arts college—because we’re not ready to specialize yet, haven’t chosen what domain we’ll devote ourselves to?
I know that I love my liberal arts education, despite the fact that it’s slowing me from being very good in a focused area. And the reason that I love it is because it gives me an excuse to take other classes that I enjoy. For example, English. I love creative writing, but never take the time to do so, because I should be doing other work relevant to my future. However, I have to fulfill Wellesley’s English distribution requirement in order to graduate, so I can hardly feel guilty about taking such a rewarding class. Psychology is the same way for me—a guilty pleasure, not because the field is less rigorous than neuroscience, but simply because it’s not what I will be doing in the future. Most people say this conflict between what one should be doing with what is fun weighs with pressure from their parents, but I unfortunately find that it mostly dwells within myself. It’s so much easier to blame when there’s an external source.
And then there were hobbies. Almost everyone on campus has one—there are few people I know who just “do” school. I was incredibly surprised when I asked Nobel Laureate David Hubel about his life when he was researching vision in the macaque monkey, and he told me that he had built a house, and played with his kids, and enjoyed dinners with his wife. He told me, smiling slightly, that it wasn’t research all the time, you see.
If I don’t do swimming anymore, do I have a hobby? I would continue to exercise, but I’ve been an athlete on a sports team all my life. It’s a large part of what defines me, what defines my friend groups, my perception of self. Sometime along the way, it has become a passion. Do I do what should be done, if should be means making a larger eventual contribution to science by specializing earlier? Or what if should be just means being happier, and somehow managing swimming and research combined with pressure from both sides for more time, more dedication—would that make me happier?
It has become my own personal drama, which makes me laugh every time. Because not only am I against drama in general, but it’s over something so silly—so irrelevant to all my lofty thoughts about the purpose of college, and moreover so irrelevant to everyone’s life outside of mine. That’s why it’s called drama, I suppose: magnification far beyond what something deserves. If left to my own devices, I think I’d swim. If drowned in my swamp of shoulds, I’d find a way to be almost as happy doing solely research. I don’t know what state I’ll be in by the start of next year, when I decide. I’ll no doubt drag myself through some highly energy-inefficient thickets along the way :).
It’s a beautiful world where twenty-year-olds can still be grappling with a decision like this. So beautiful that adults and friends take this decision seriously, that we care, that we’re in a position where a choice like this is important. So blessed that we can be so self-absorbed, that drama can exist and thrive.
Balance or not, preference or not, contributions to society etc., I’m sure I’ll find my way. I always thought I’d be done growing eventually, would stabilize into an adult personality… and I’m much closer than when I was in high school, but still have a ways to go. The adventure is amazing, this system astounding—I stand in awe of the human societies, that we have constructed safe havens of beauty and learning to let our almost-grown youth find themselves. It’s written on my whiteboard, right next to my door: “Be open, Monica. Accept and embrace.”
My cake will come.
Our Swim Memories Poster we put together last night :). We make one for our coach, Bonnie, every year… she has more than 25 years worth of posters holding court in her office :).