The summer after freshman year is looming, and while the new season brings the promise of warm weather (unlike springtime in Providence), some of you 2016ers are still scrambling to secure post-May 17th plans. For four years, however, I’ve highly anticipated Summer 2013 – the summer I will finally be of age to work at the all-girls camp I attended for six summers. My friends can vouch for how much I
incessantly talk about adore this place. But this winter, despite already having signed the counselor contract, I had a few weak moments of self-doubt. I felt pressured to do something a bit more “legit,” socially acceptable, serious, resume-worthy, etc.
Maybe, just maybe, if I were lucky, the CareerLAB gods and goddesses would send down an internship, which would affirm that
history, political science, public policy, urban studies whatever I’m planning to declare is the right concentration for me. My decision to work in Maine felt more like a juvenile risk and an excuse not to go to CareerLAB inteview for a “real” job/internship. But after reading a NYT article (I promise I don’t regularly read the NYT parenting blog) and some sort of epiphany, I realized that I seriously needed to STFU stop letting societal and self-pressures influence me.