NOT FOR NOTHIN': What are you doing next year?

 I see the question forming on my interrogator’s tongue and my body stiffens.  I know just what this young man wants to know…  “What are…”  Please, not right now…  “you doing”… ok, just ask it, “next year?” My knee starts to shake and I blow air out my mouth.  I giggle, and then I choke. My interrogator rustles his brow, so I look away and play with the coaster on the table. See, the answer to his question is that I just don’t know.

I stutter then spit out some ideas for work, names of scholarships and organizations. I use the word “passion” and “searching” and soon realize I have dug myself into a hole. I feel the sweat scratching its way out my pores and I wonder why.  

Why does the question “What are your plans after graduation?” make us squirm or send us looking for the nearest exit? Why are we so worried to say “I don’t know,” “I need some time” or “Sure, big plans to join the circus”?

It seems our interrogators are asking for some sign of a life plan, but “Sorry sir, I don’t have one,” promises to solicit confused looks and makes us appear under-qualified or immature. American society, especially that group into which most Villanovans will graduate, applauds plans, expects schedules and values set salaries, while it stigmatizes uncertainty, indecision and taking time to reflect.

It is in this context that college graduation becomes a sort of judgment day. Yet we began to be judged even long before that, by our family and friends inquiring about our plans for at least the past year. They insist on plans because they have invested in our education, and well, that was part of their plan, to make sure we had a degree so we could then start planning. Of course they anticipate returns in the years that follow.

But does this rigid plan for life after graduation fit our generation? 

Ours is a new generation; we are living and studying and filling out applications under a different set of circumstances than that of our parents. We are steeped in what is perhaps a more competitive job and graduate school search, which now makes “I don’t know” a more widely chosen option for postgraduate life.

However, it is not just an emaciated job market that marks our time, but a questioning of the decisions that have formed today’s society, a reconsideration of the role of big business, an evaluation of ethics in the workplace and in politics, a movement that could change the face of health care in the United States, a wave of natural disasters brought by climate change and let us not forget, a war. There is certainly reason not to know… where we are most needed, how to apply our skills to assist whatever population is most in need, whether a job in the business world really means success, if four years of ROTC means we are prepared to serve or whether taking out more loans for graduate school is really a wise choice. 

Meanwhile, we could easily spend a few more years reflecting on how much has changed in these past four years, on the books we have read, on the statements we have made, on the problems we have solved, the skills we have accumulated and how best to implement them. It seems that for many of us, we just need, well, time. But in an economy of “scarce resources,” with time the scarcest of all, we are afraid to admit to each other that maybe jumping right into a job, graduate program or research position will cut out some of that time and space we so intimately crave. 

At Villanova, we have spent years being around people, studying and moving swiftly from one on-campus activity to the next. It might be that as graduates we all need some time to ourselves to work in a coffee shop, write, read, run, learn to play the guitar, wander about in our home town or a town far away, perfect our jump shot, climb a mountain, drive to Seattle or hang out, at least for a little while. 

While studying at a university in Spain, I inquired of a student his plans after graduation, the hypocrite that I am. He answered, “Una gran siesta,”  or “a long nap.”  Well, friend, a nap sounds like a valiant endeavor to me.

Villanova’s education has set each of us on a path of great deliberation, and there is much left to deliberate. So maybe if we take just a minute, we will see that, “I don’t know what I will be doing or where I will be, but I’m thinking about it” is not a bad answer at all. Then, we might not stigmatize the uncertain or underemployed recent college grads, but instead encourage graduates to reflect before swiftly stepping into someone else’s preplanned work day.