1. Plan A: I wanted to be a Park Ranger
I loved being outside as a kid. I would always take the chores of weeding or cutting the grass over dusting or running the sweeper. I would be out and about from daylight to dusk, with dirty bare feet and brambles in my hair that required scissors to get them out. Even when I had my first job at the local pool as the office clerk, I moved my desk outside within the first week and manufactured a way to gather memberships and tickets with various tables, chalk signs, and a boom box.
In high school, when job shadowing week came along, I promptly went to Twin Lakes (the only park I knew of at the time) and somehow convinced them to show me the ropes for the week. The one and only time they had an unpaid high school kid eager to be cleaning up goose poop and pulling fishing line from the rocks. Just don’t put me at a desk, I said. Let me be outside, as much as possible.
I loved that week. I can still remember walking the trails with my mentor, attending a meeting about the upcoming art festival, and double-checking the small boats against inventory numbers in some big dusty binder. I didn’t know what you needed to do in order to make this your life (my mentor seemed to not have that kind of coaching in his wheelhouse), but it seemed better than pushing papers or sitting at a desk.
Later, I found out that park rangers needed to be fluent in all things science. And all of my science teachers clearly didn’t think that was in my future. “Focus on the humanities,” my counselor said. “Be a teacher like your parents. Or, major in English.”
2. Plan B: I wanted to be in DC
I liked to debate. And fast-forward to college, this seemed to be something that was encouraged – bring evidence, use direct quotes from the text, and find the patterns and metaphors from other disciplines that could build persuasive arguments. This skill could be useful in law, and specifically in political science. I could do this. I didn’t get to be outside, but maybe I could move somewhere warm. And walk to work.
So law and international relations seemed like a natural fit. I took on Madeline Albright as my hero. I read about her diplomatic and important work at the United Nations, and though I didn’t fully understand what she was doing (secret takeovers? private meetings to vote folks out?), as a woman, in a powerful and elevated role, I figured this is how you change the world and stick it to the man. So, I started on the path to plan B: Become a lawyer, work in a Congressional office, find my way to an appointment at the UN.
3. Plan W: I want to be a tunic-wearing, crystal-carrying, crafter with lots of dogs, books, and shoes.
Years later, with none of those careers tried, and a zillion plans later, I’m doing my own thing. I wrote, I advocated, I taught (I think all the grades, actually!), I designed, I made stuff up, I substituted, I learned about opera, I worked with HVAC equipment, I went to Harrisburg to defend something, I got my heart broken by the unionization of my organization, I presented to audiences ranging from 10 to 500, I learned about green infrastructure, I trained in design thinking, I got a principal’s certificate, I project-managed the construction and design of a very large building, and I even presented in front of NASA officials. I can also say all the US Presidents in timeline order, fix most issues on a sewing machine (or navigate Youtube to figure it out), and cook a perfect artichoke.
After all this time, I learned how to be and EMBRACE my well-roundedness. And instead of rolling my eyes at the compliment, I’m owning it. Crystals and all.
4. Being Well-Rounded is the new Facebook Brag
This week, I’ve been listening to stories of people’s lives, in real life, without a producer or podcast narrative to weave them together. And the stories all have one common theme: the people that are the most joyful, the most thoughtful, and the most interesting to talk to are the “generalists.” Generalists are not generic. Generalists are not dull. They are vibrant and curious and act like hummingbirds in a world that needs more interdisciplinary thinkers and activists and doers.
I wasn’t sure this was a thing at first. I thought you had to know your thing, know it well, and then practice it for 10,000 hours to be the absolute best. This is the marker of professional success.
But after listening to the dynamics of people, up close and reflective, it is in the dabbling that the real learning occurs, the trying things out, failing, succeeding, and then getting bored, the experimenting, the quitting, and more than anything else, it isn’t about the amount of content knowledge or specialized experience that makes these folks reinvent themselves over time or define their success. It’s the intersection of the unusual that crafts a different picture of success.
I always thought being well-rounded was a cop-out for people that aren’t really good at anything. What I’m noticing now, however, is that these well-rounded folks are dynamic problem-solvers, have deep empathy for others, understand perspectives more holistically, and seem dedicated to asking questions and being less focused on personal achievement and more on collective imperatives.
Yeah, my data set isn’t thousands, but this street data of 30+ interviews hints at the case that we are specializing our kids too much, overly forcing them find their thing by age 10 (or sooner) and then focusing on that thing for the long haul. We don’t value quitting as a lovely opportunity to try something new. We don’t encourage our math students to take a visual arts class, or our strong writers to delve into physics. We pick a sport, an art form, a thing and we keep on doing it. We argue that our children need to know what they want to do in high school (or sooner) so they can start the plan for post-high school, and if they don’t, we need to do more career exploration and job shadowing, and strength questionnaires and internships and weekend classes. No one worries about the kid that assuredly knows they want to be a [INSERT PROFESSION HERE] and then when they become it, wonders if that is all there is.
So, here’s to the generalists. The hummingbirds that pollinate, the people that take a “braided river” approach to their professional career. I have to believe that this path is just as beautiful and purposeful as the ones that knew what they were going to be when they grew up. And I want to ensure that we start to help our schools, communities, and learning ecosystems value the art of doing lots of different things as another path to success.
5 Things to Think About
I feel like we are starting to find ways to do this more. Let’s keep these kinds of articles coming.
It’s like the 74 read my newsletter last week.
I love when we look at the micro-ways in which our togetherness is unraveling…“We are getting farther and farther away from these spaces, where we can have casual encounters. That lessens our fear of the other, you know. If we aren’t exposed to people who are different in all sorts of ways, we start fearing them.” Also, there’s a Lloyd Dobbler mention here I can’t resist.
I interviewed this amazing (well-rounded) woman behind this work today (her undergrad was in a foreign language, and she was on the fast train to becoming a vet…she uses these superpowers to convey she is a translator and a healer in her current life’s work), and I want to figure out how to capture her energy, enthusiasm, and optimism and sprinkle it on Pittsburgh.
Here’s the theme song to swing you into the weekend, get ready for your close-up, cameras are rolling and you are the star.
PS. I’m “running till I can’t” for my friend and colleague, Kate, in this year’s Pittsburgh Marathon Relay. If you’d like to support her memory, for me, consider a donation to the PIONEERING work at the Magee-Women’s Institute and Research Foundation
Generalists are awesome. Because they know how to solve multiple problems with their experience and do things, plural, instead of only doing one thing. (Of course, I, myself, am a generalist professionally...despite being strongly discouraged from being such multiple times. What can I say...I'm right and they're wrong. Because my knowledge is broad and deep and theirs is just...narrow.). Good piece, Nik!
Huzzah! You know I have also had, uh, several careers. :) Cheers to the wanderers! Let’s go crystal shopping. This is great, I can’t wait to read more. Thank you for sharing.