I remember the first time I was embarrassed by my emotions. It was second grade, and I was crying, because I couldn’t play the recorder correctly in music class. I sobbed and sobbed, getting snot all in the reed, while everyone else played “Hot Cross Buns” with semi-proficiency and I failed, even after the third attempt. It wasn’t that devastating–it’s just a plastic recorder–but I wanted to be good. 

I never seemed to grow out of my emotions. Or grow into them, as they always seem too big, too much for me and the people around me. My emotions affected everything I did and surrounded myself with. All I felt was loud and would be felt by everyone around me which became embarrassing and made me more upset. I found solace in books like most introverted, emotional people do. I loved feeling the emotions of a character; stepping into their life and nesting in their brain. As I grew those emotions turned into stubbornness, something I could use.

George Anders’s book “You Can Do Anything” asks you to not limit yourself when thinking about a career path. He has many statistics to prove that you can get a very ‘unconventional’ job with a humanities degree or the plethora of new jobs being created. Anders uses the Hamilton Project to show that in a lifetime, English majors are in the top ten highest earners.

But because there’s so much to choose from as an English major, I don’t exactly know what I want. Sometimes I think to myself, Am I too stubborn to pick a career? Am I afraid of missing out in another field? Everything seems important and impactful and seems like something I could see myself doing. So how do I choose? “Employers start with an unusually elastic sense of what skills and past experience they might want…employers become much more willing to hire on the basis of passion and potential” (Anders, 83).  There are times when being emotional is not a good thing to be, but more often than not, it’s one of my greatest strengths.

In my junior year at the College of Charleston, I took a class on significant American film genres-the Western, screwball comedy, and the musical. During this period, I started to wonder about the pirate film (I wanted to know if this subgenre would be considered a type of Western).

I later learned was actually called the Swashbuckler genre and it puzzled me that the only popular pirate films were the Pirates of the Caribbean (2003-2017). I quickly learned that there was a long history to this genre, yet there was very little research done on the subject. My professor even gave me the option of switching topics, but there was enough information out there to inspire and drive me.

It would be a lie if I said that the idea of an under-researched genre being my paper topic didn’t excite me, but I was simultaneously terrified; what if I just set myself up for failure? Had my ambition gotten the best of me? This is when I felt as if my emotions worked against me.

As I worked on the project, I had to establish priorities of what questions I could answer with the research available to me. Writing this paper was more about strategy compared to previous essays I had encountered. Any embarrassment or insecurity about my unfamiliarity with the subject had to disappear. My confidence in what I could do was far greater than my uncertainty, and yes, I feared I was in over my head, but I could still use my tenacity as a positive force. 

Though a lot of the time it isn’t an asset, my stubbornness and grit will aid me in the future with more difficult projects, people, and situations. Some would say I’m too passionate about what I like and am interested in, but it makes my passion bleed through the page (or at least I hope it does.) When I’m approached with a challenging project, my passion drives me through it.

Richard Bolles said in his book “What Color is Your Parachute,” “The difference is enthusiasm and passion. Yours. You’re much more attractive to employers when you’re on fire” (73). If employers want passion I’ve got it; it’s just a matter of finding where to apply myself. Although the project I used as an example is English major-oriented it taught me that you can do a lot with a little. 

In the end, I was extremely proud of what I did for my film class. I synthesized so many ambiguous pieces of information and still made a clear and substantial argument. At times, my emotions feel like a waste of energy, but when I can channel them into a project I can actually create something. Even though I consider myself a creature of habit, I completely changed my strategy and approach to this project, using my stubbornness to enable flexibility and I still met the deadline with these challenges. I was very uncertain about working with so little and so much unknown, but Anders points out, “Your liberal arts education has taught you to move forward as a researcher in the face of ambiguity…you can adapt to a changing environment” (109). 

My ability to chameleon to what is needed was something I had in myself since I was young, but I think it’s been honed by majoring in English. A lot of this is due to my effortless empathy. So many of my skills are not specific to what we do in English classes, but malleable to multiple careers and it’s taken all four years of college for me to realize that. My passion and want to pursue life is my greatest strength; it’s fed by all the literature I read, the ideas I absorb, and my need for creation and connections between people. I still can’t play an instrument to save my life, but if I ever do I’ll probably cry yet this time I won’t be embarrassed about it.