“I don’t know what I’m going to do after I graduate,” I said. I have interests in the public sector and private sector, and my resume is all over the place.”
“What’s your major?” my professor asked.
“Political Science,” I answered, “with a minor in film. I started out interning in congressional offices and ended up dabbling in entrepreneurship this summer—which I liked because its multidisciplinary nature appeals to my numerous interests.”
I shift in my seat slowly, thinking. “It’s funny how I ended up where I am. I originally was supposed to major in Studio Art, but my dad talked me out of that during the forty minute drive to orientation. Then I was undeclared for a while. And then I took a class about every single catastrophe that can wipe out the human race—overpopulation, nuclear proliferation, etc. I wanted to address these societal issues, so that’s why I became a Political Science major, which in retrospect was a very simplistic mindset. My first political internship changed all that, made me realize that doing societal good isn’t as easy as originally thought.”
“Addressing these issues is never easy, of course,” my professor said.
“Yes, that’s very true—otherwise someone would have solved these problems already.”
“But going back to your original question—”
I look up.
“Be a good person in whatever you do.”
I keep looking up.
He continues, “Make conscientious efforts to have good morals with regard to your ambitions. Your professional goals may change, but I assure you that if you stay true to those ethics, it doesn’t matter how many times you switch careers or what jobs you ultimately settle into; you will end up doing social good.”
Then my professor looks even more intently at me and continues. “It doesn’t matter if you’re working for the Sierra Club or for Goldman Sachs. Telling me that a person works for each tells me nothing about their character.”
“And insofar that I should judge people individually and not in the context of the overarching impact that they have on society…”
My professor doesn’t hesitate. “It doesn’t matter. Now, if a person knowingly sells toxic securities in his investment banking job, that’s another thing.”
“Right.”
“I had an older cousin who was an executive at a tobacco company. He was like a big brother to me, always took care of me—but I always thought it was strange that he was working for a tobacco company. I never really understood it.”
I nod and say nothing, absorbing his words.
He leans forward slightly and intones:
“Be a good person.
Make conscientious decisions.
Stay true to yourself.”
