Welcome back for another edition of i{heart}thestamper. For those of you who haven’t been with me since the beginning, Jen asked me to reintroduce myself. I’m Jen’s husband, Tony (or DH if you haven’t heard the term “husband” before) and I contribute to her site on the first Sunday of each month. Sometimes I’m funnier than others, but I’m always honest with you about what’s on my mind. Feel free to peruse the i{heart}thestamper archive for previous posts. And be sure to share your thoughts in the comments section. Otherwise I’ll assume no one is reading, pout & refuse to write anymore.
On to this month’s rant…
I can’t remember when the thought first occurred to me, but for some time now I’ve thought it somewhat funny (and slightly disturbing) that we put the weight of the world on ourselves at 18. That’s the age most of us are when we graduate high school. Likely, for the majority of the year leading up to that, we’ve been asked by others (and been asking ourselves) “what’s next?” Some go straight into the workforce, others choose to serve in the armed forces, and others decide 13 years of schooling isn’t enough, and opt for about four more years.
For as much as we think we know at 18, it doesn’t take getting very far into your 20s to realize how ill-prepared to make this decision we were. Yet, as I hinted, I now look back and find it troubling that this decision basically shapes the next couple of decades for us all.
Anyone who chose not to go to college, and then decided to go back knows how tough that can be. If you went to college you know that you basically played Russian roulette when choosing a major, and feel almost obliged to follow through with it upon graduation. And I certainly don’t have to explain to anyone the tough spot you might find yourself in these days if you chose to serve our country. I guess I’m trying to illustrate how difficult it is to try to “retroactively” change that decision if you wanted to. Almost like adding a degree of difficulty to life.
As graduation day approaches (or for some, has recently passed) try to remember back to your days as a bright eyed teenager. Everyone I meet (and I am certainly no exception) seems to automatically ask a graduate “So what are your plans now?” Similar to meeting a newlywed couple and asking “How’s married life?” The question gets old well before you’ve heard it the 500th time.
My advice would be to skip that question, offer something more substantial to the graduates in your life. Even if it’s only as profound as “I bet you’re tired of being asked ’so what are your plans now?’” Try to connect on a different level: one of understanding. Tell a cheesy story of your graduation days and the boneheaded decisions you made along the way.
The idea isn’t necessarily to encourage bone-headed decisions, but to let them know we’ve all made them. Graduates can’t be afraid to make any decision, or they’ll be 35 years old, living in someone’s basement trying to figure out what they want to do for the rest of the lives.
It takes guts to be a teenager, especially these days. Remind them that they DO have a choice, even if it seems like they don’t. Encourage them to reach for the stars. Even if they fall short, they will still land somewhere better than where they started. And we’ll all be better for it.
Td
