This week I thought I’d post about a conversation I had with my dad back in November. Now my distain for the current presidency is no secret to anyone who knows me, and everyday I watch the news and I see the troubling things that are already on the rise during the first few weeks of his reign. I wanted to share something I wrote at a time when my family, my father specifically, was relaying messages to me that would affect my future. For context, my dad and I had both been in a panic in early November, and both been through a complete range of emotions, which I will share here at a later date. But for now, all you need to know is that he was worried about me, and about the state of our country. 

As I called my dad to finally have that conversation about our disappointment in the election outcome, he was hesitant but discerning in his speech when he told me that I might want to reconsider which graduate programs and overall career I was choosing. I have always wanted to do something that impacts people in a positive way, and it took me a long while to figure out how I would go about that. I began my undergraduate process wanting to change the world through politics and policy making, which was then short lived due to the immense amount of  American history that came with it (snore). I then decided to be a social worker, taking half a dozen  classes before realizing that I simply do not have the emotional confidence to be in that particular role (shoutout to my best friend Liz who is indeed cut out for this role and will go on to revolutionize the gerontology landscape). Then I wanted to be a journalist. I wanted to write about what mattered, to dedicate my life to being a responsible journalist that my readers could trust. In this role I did not feel complete. This career ultimately did not appeal to me after some time. I was not ready to write for others. I wasn’t ready to appeal to an audience in a way that stifled my thoughts and opinions. I landed on being a Communications major, which allowed me an interdisciplinary space to be myself, share my opinions, read, write, and ask questions about why things are the way they are. In these final moments of finally choosing what I wanted to be in this world (AKA senior year of college), I found sustainability. While I wish I had found this niche earlier in my academic journey, I am determined to make this what I will do in my career. Now I think about my father’s words, urging me to reconsider my goals. He by no means had ill intentions by stating that my career may be in jeopardy the next few years, but I told him this. I said, if I don’t care, who will? If all of these climate scientists, public educators, LGBTQ+ leaders, planned parenthood workers, labor and delivery doctors/nurses, etc. all quit or change positions because things will inevitably be harder for them in the coming years, where will we stand? Just because our next (im)potus wants to dismantle the department of education, ban all abortions, rail back rights for minority groups, and pour black tar into our lungs through his lack of climate regulations doesn’t mean we we stop working in those areas. If anything, it means the opposite. We fight harder. We care louder. And if our jobs get cut and our interests get stifled, we create new ones. Things will get worse for many. And this may include me. But if I were to give up when things get bad, then I’m no better than the coward threatening our democracy. I will leave you all with this; sometimes, oftentimes, things get worse before they get better. And right now, the bad can feel overwhelming, suffocating even, but nothing will change if we stop caring. Keep caring about that career you want. Keep caring about the people in your community. Keep caring about the state of the world. In fact, care loudly. Be the change you want to see, even if the destination doesn’t feel near.