The (Almost) Graduate

by jennymarierae

Today I went to a careers fair.  The bombshell has finally dropped that in a few short months I will be transitioning from a smug student, cushioned somewhat by my loan and extensive amounts of time off, into the realms of the real world. As I wandered around the circuit of potential employers, I found myself at a crossroads.

What should I “be”? The ultimate question that seeks to overwhelm and freak out the nervous graduate. After all, we’ve been preparing for this moment for most of our existence, through our GCSEs, A Levels and degrees, seeking out what to do for the ‘Rest of Our Lives.’ Though the prospect of a variety of career paths seemed particularly appealing to me while sifting through university prospectuses, faced with the reality of these multiple stepping stones, I feel nonplussed. It’s funny, I knew this day would come, yet it still took me surprise.

I remember my first week of university – pubs, clubs and a feeling of euphoria. This was the beginning of the rest of my life, or so society had told me. Yet, first year passed in a blur. Nights turned into mornings from hell which turned back into nights, and the progression continued. And then it was second year. I lived in a house with some of my best friends, and we argued over who hadn’t done their washing up, and struggled together in the face of deadlines. We tasted the fruits of Brighton’s nightlife, not as frequently as before, but still consistently.

Before I knew it I was in third year, studying abroad in the “Land of the Free”, in the rugged, eclectic terrain of the United States of America. In between trips to New York and Miami, I found myself chained to the library, latte (with an extra shot) in hand, tiptoeing through the silent section day after day after day. I was convinced I would crack but actually the immense workload focused me and flared my interest in what I was studying.

Even so, the euphoria of university was slowly subsiding. I always remembered people telling me to use my summers in an effective manner, to pursue internships or placements, but I never listened. I spent the summer of third year working at a coffee shop earning money to have a good time. While my friends floundered in the face of graduate life, I chuckled reveling in the fact I had one more year left.

Going into my fourth year at university studying American Studies and English I had many expectations. I anticipated drowning in an ocean of essays and literature, and mentally prepared myself for a year primarily devoid of human contact. Upon the commencement of my last summer of freedom I hugged my friends a little tighter than usual. Gone would be the raucous nights of debauchery and Aldi brand gin, replaced with glasses of Aldi brand red wine and maxing out my Netflix account when my nose wasn’t stuck in a novel.

Half of fourth year has passed in a blink of an eye. I think it’s easy for time to drift when I’m only in for 4 hours a week. That’s right, 4 hours. This lack of contact time has left me a little unresolved, unsure of what I’m meant to be doing with all my free time, and also more freaked out about what lies ahead – the flickering energy-efficient light bulb at the end of the tunnel.  That’s the thing about humanities degrees; it’s easy to feel aimless. Saying that, this year has been far more manageable than I ever could have expected, with frenetic periods surrounding essay deadlines, but overall still enough time to enjoy a gin and tonic.

Now here I am, peeking nervously at the different companies offering graduate schemes, volunteer work, and . . . careers.  This fair is the first of many events being put on by the university to help guide impending graduates into a self-achieved plan for the future.

Throughout the past few months I’ve watched my friends navigate their own post-university paths. Some have stayed, some have moved, and some have nestled themselves into a kind of limbo. I think the fact to embrace is that very few of us know what our ideal job is. And in an uncertain economic climate we must accept guidance where we can, begin contemplation early, and improvise. Bring on the exploration.