As a 6-year-old, I was sure that I was destined to become a geologist. I had a rock collection in a little cardboard box on my bookshelf, and I spent almost every recess at school poking around in the dirt looking for interesting stones. Within months, that dream shifted, and I decided that archaeology suited me better. After all, who could ever get tired of examining old teeth and decoding hieroglyphics?

Soon enough I did, and my ambitions continued to change. I thought of becoming a biologist, a botanist, an electrical engineer and a journalist. I simply couldn't make up my mind.

So maybe it's no surprise that after 15 years, I still haven't figured out what I want to do with my life. The more I think about jobs, the more puzzling they seem -- how do I know what's right for me?

(David Steinlicht/St. Paul Pioneer Press/MCT)

The most common answer I get from adults is something along the lines of: "Follow your interests, and do something you really love." This seemed easy enough -- until I discovered that I don't even know what all of my interests are. I'm not completely in the dark. I've loved to read since a young age. I like to be around people. I'm always eager to travel, and I can't imagine life without music.

But what about the things I haven't tried? How am I to know that programming isn't more addicting than "Murder on the Orient Express," or that devising a new way to treat cancer isn't as exciting as snapping photos of the Eiffel Tower?


I'm pretty adventurous when it comes to trying new things, so the best way for me to find out if I like something has always been to experience it firsthand. With this in mind, last year my mom signed me up to participate in a high school laboratory science program that taught me the basics of everything from micropipetting to inoculation. Lab work proved to be a lot trickier than I had imagined. Although I worked hard and eventually was able to start my own research project, my slow technique and limited knowledge often made simple tasks drag on for days.

After this, I spent a summer participating in an astronomy internship program to try to gain some practical programming experience. I learned an enormous amount about the workings of galaxies and stars, but when I tried to create code, I ran into many of the same problems I'd had in the science lab: I simply didn't have the right skills to get the job done efficiently. It was hard enough trying to get my head around Hess diagrams and density power laws without trying to put them into for-loops.

Part of the reason my attempts to explore new avenues weren't as successful as I'd hoped was that I had no knowledge of the subjects I was working in. I'd never taken a biology class or a programming class before I sat down to culture water samples in petri dishes and model the Milky Way in a PuTTY terminal. I've always been a quick and open-minded learner; but no matter how smart you are, it's not easy to conduct advanced level research without the right background, even with a mentor.

Many of the extracurricular activities I've been most successful at have built on the skills I already had, even as a child. Take journalism, for example. My lifelong love for reading and writing translated well into articles, and I've developed a knack for articulating my thoughts. But where's the time to develop a background in new areas, like programming and laboratory science, when I already have school, music, writing and a host of other activities to deal with?

The solution to this dilemma lies within public schools. My 10th-grade curriculum leaves quite a bit to be desired. My school has no science laboratory, meaning that science classes don't teach much hands-on lab work; our school newspaper is a startup club without sufficient funding or teacher involvement; and students interested in subjects such as engineering have to rely on physics and computer science as the closest classes that will expose them to their areas of interest. There are very few opportunities for exploration of different subject areas, and even less real-life or hands-on learning. Everything is theoretical and simplified.

If schools were to implement programs that allowed students to learn more about individual jobs -- say an after-school biotechnology class or hands-on engineering workshops -- we'd actually have opportunities to learn about specific fields starting at a basic level. This would give us enough background to be successful at pursuing other extracurricular projects in similar fields, gradually allowing us to improve our understanding of possible careers of interest.

Being able to learn more about career options through school would be instrumental in helping to point me to a job that is the right fit. I wouldn't have to rely on self-studying to get a taste of nontraditional subjects; and a structured class would help me develop enough knowledge to be able to successfully implement my skills in a real-life project or work situation. Most of all, I'd be able to explore all my options before having to make a permanent decision a couple of years down the line.

When the time comes to make that choice, I want to make sure that it is an educated one.

The Life in Perspective board is made up of teens who write for the features sections. Tara Iyer attends Evergreen Valley High School in San Jose. Reach her at