When I was 10 years old, I believed that I would become a Michelin-star chef living in New York City. I watched every episode of Chopped, Master Chef, and Barefoot Contessa. Gordon Ramsay was my idol, and I genuinely believed I would become his protegé. I also had an obsession with Cake Boss. I begged my parents to take me to Hoboken and go to Carlo’s Bake Shop. I dreamed about Buddy seeing me whip up a cake in an hour and saying, “we need ha here!”
Soon after, I took one bite out of a cannoli and hated it. I was incredibly disappointed and had my first existential crisis. How could the cake boss make such a dry slice of rainbow cake? How could I work for him when this is the quality of the dessert served? The spirit of Gordan Ramsay flowed through me and I had to find a new route in life.
Unfortunately, I went through several “career” phases that equally disappointed me. For a long time, I wanted to become an artist and become the next Andy Warhol. We share the same birthday, so I thought it was destiny. My parents disagreed. So, like every Middle Eastern girl, I said I wanted to become a doctor. Oh, how they rejoiced. The truth is that my friend showed me an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, and I got hooked. I wanted to be Christina Yang. That is, until she suffered from PTSD, got left at the altar, watched her father die, and got into a plane crash. I still took every science course available in high school; I cried through anatomy and physiology like a champ.
Eventually, I had to apply to colleges and realized I hated what I was doing. I had no idea what doctors even do. My primary physician looked miserable every time he saw me, which didn’t help. Maybe I could be a nurse and do double the work a doctor does for half the pay. Not appealing. Perhaps I could become a therapist and help people through their issues! Incredibly unappealing, I would make my clients cry from brutal honesty. Once again, another existential crisis.
A few months later, I settled on law. My parents were incredibly supportive, and their reasoning was that I could argue well and never stopped arguing. I was offended. Nonetheless, they had a point. I took humanities throughout my senior year of high school and felt smart for once. It all came naturally to me, and I could see myself with a future in this field.
Now I’ve been at Stevens for a little over six months. I applied as a philosophy major and planned on crushing every ethics course. And I did that. It was pretty fun. But I took a history of science and technology course with Professor Wellerstein and suddenly wanted to pursue a Ph.D. in Science, Technology, and Society. The ironic thing is that the first thing he warned us about was to NOT do that. But my brain said, “Actor network theory, hell yeah!” Now I spend my days looking at science and technology programs with acceptance rates below 5% and practicing the “Dr.” in my signature. I think it’s pretty fitting. Not excited to mention how it doesn’t stand for a medical doctor though.
