Do you remember your first response to being asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
I used to say I wanted to be the pink Power Ranger. Of course, like most, my answer evolved over time as I considered my changing interests, strengths, and opportunities for growth — and upon realizing I needed to pursue an option that was, you know…founded in reality.
The First Layer of Damage
Interestingly, younger children often respond to the question of what with an answer of whom. And while those responses tend to be fictional characters, I would argue that they’re thinking about the question much more appropriately than the rest of us.
Think about it—these young children want to be characters, not jobs. And they’re most often protagonists and heroes — characters who have genuine depth and personality, ambition and morality.
When I said that I wanted to be a Power Ranger, I didn’t care much for the outfit (which was basically a vinyl personal sweat lodge) or the fact that Power Rangers were youths trained to pilot assault machines (yes, really). What I did care for was that they had a mentor who recognized their strengths and provided them support, they had each other for friendship and community, and they were tasked with overcoming antagonists. What I was most drawn to, though, was their strength and agility, that they couldn’t use their powers for personal gain, and that they had to remain humble (by never revealing their true identities)—the same qualities I have sought to emulate throughout my life as much as possible1.
But here’s the thing: Adults don’t typically encourage young children to pursue becoming a fictional character; typically, the character is written on that first day/last day chalkboard2 and no further conversation is had about that goal. However, adults often kvell3 when a child says they want to follow in a parent’s footsteps, or to become a lawyer or doctor or another career that sounds fancy, makes boatloads of cash, and/or requires a higher level degree. Children learn from these reactions what may or may not be considered an acceptable answer and, in most cases, the acceptable answers are careers not characters.
How the Damage is Perpetuated
Consider this: When someone asks, “What do you do?”, how do you reply?4
If you answered Yes, you probably have been led to believe that the foundation of your identity is determined by your career(s). (Don’t worry, we’re going to do some damage control below).
Unsurprisingly, I think this unhealthy framework adheres to the psyche during those early conversations about what we want to be when we grow up. As Michelle Obama commented on the absurdity of this inquiry (paraphrased):
The question implies that choosing this identity is somehow finite; that if you achieve this goal, you’ve reached the endgame, and that endgame is directly related to a job title.
How Can We Do Better?
Instead of asking others what they want to be when they grow up, I encourage you to ask more thoughtful and thought-provoking questions; ones that still inspire goal-setting and future-thinking, but are no longer tied solely to career aspirations. Here are some examples:
Who do you hope to be?
What are your current interests?
What stokes and nurtures your inner flame?
How do you want to engage with others?
What problems do you see in the world that you’d like to solve?
And if you’re going to ask someone what they want to be when they grow up, consider asking follow-up questions that dig into the why. Or maybe start asking what character they would most like to be (and still dig into the why), because maybe the kids are actually onto something with those fictional character responses.
Damage Control
If your identity is tied to your work, who are you if you get laid off or fired and can’t find another job in the same field? What if you are stripped of your tasks or the tasks become irrelevant? What if your work becomes obsolete?5
In any case, I’m going to share with you an exercise that helped me to untangle and reframe my identity (I think this will help you, too): Consider what you do that doesn’t change in times of change6.
Let’s move past the surface-level job title of what you do, and then past the skills you utilize and tasks you complete, and instead sink into the core: What fuels you?
I’ll use myself as an example again7. I have held many career-related identities, but the common thread in each of my pathways has been a mission that fuels me outside of work, too: I help people discover possible next steps to becoming the most fulfilled and happy version of themselves.
That has been my intention as a therapist, a college counselor, a career and business coach, but also as a friend, a wife, a partner, and a colleague. That is my true identity, at my core.
So what’s yours?
It probably won’t come as much of a surprise to learn that my intention with Subject to Change is to help you discover possible next steps to becoming the most fulfilled and happy version of yourself. I hope you found some value here with me today (or were at least entertained by my photo captions).
I’m really glad you’re here,
J
PS: This is my first newsletter that’s not related to college counseling8. I’m still finding my footing and I appreciate your patience as I figure this out. There’s a very real chance this will be more of a bi-monthly newsletter than a weekly newsletter (but I’ll supplement with other Narrative Musings whenever possible). We’ll get into the swing of things this summer! I genuinely want this to be fun and helpful for you, so — per the nature of this beast and in the spirit of improvement — please consider engaging by:
Leaving comments.
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Emailing me feedback (likes, dislikes, suggestions for future posts, any spelling or grammar errors you catch, etc.—truly, all feedback is welcome). Some things I’d love to hear about:
Do we like the polls?
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Sharing this post on social media (feel free to tag me if I’m on the platform).
The being humble part is what I try to emulate on this last point, not the never revealing my true identity. My true identity is explained later in this post.
You can find chalkboards that don’t ask “What do you want to be when you grow up?”! This one includes space for a self-portrait instead.
For all you goyim (non-Jewish people) out there, to kvell means to beam with pride or to be delighted in Yiddish.
If you asked me years ago, my response would likely have been one of the following: “I help students navigate the college application process,” “I run an independent educational consulting business,” or “I coach other consultants in business development and growth.” When so many other answers to that question would better highlight what I do with my life — far beyond how I spend my time during business hours — why did I answer with my jobs? UGH.
I learned this exercise from my friend Jason Feifer, who happens to be (oh god, I’m about to do the thing I’m telling you not to do): the editor-in-chief of Entrepreneur Magazine, author of Build for Tomorrow, podcast host of Build for Tomorrow and Help Wanted, and author of an excellent weekly newsletter called One Thing Better. Buy his book, listen to the podcasts, and subscribe to his newsletter!
I told you this would happen! Honestly: please let me know how you feel about this, because this newsletter is for both of us.
Thank you for this discussion, I needed to hear it. For most of my life my answer to the question “What do you do?” has been “lawyer”. For the past year of retirement it has been “retired lawyer” or more recently “recovering lawyer”. Both of those responses are past tense, like whatever I was before, I am no more. Unexpectedly I now have to reevaluate how I identify myself outside the career I had for my entire adult life. Or, more directly, I’m once again asking that same question, “What do you want to be?”
Because I was that weird child, I wanted to be Anna Karenina when I grow up. Mostly because of her dead simple black velvet dress that makes Vronski fall instantly in love with her at the ball. Even after I found out about the train, I still wanted to be Anna Karenina. Later, in early adolescence, I wanted to be a dancer based on nothing more than inept dance routines I performed with my cousin to French disco music.