Guest Blog Post Author: Devin Van Cleave
Has there ever been a time in your life when your passions were mixed up with your pride and you thought that you were supposed to be something that you weren’t?
When I was four years old, I decided that I wanted to be a doctor. When I was eight I was reading my mom’s old microbiology textbooks “just for fun,” and when I turned nine, I had a typed Word document detailing just exactly how and when I would be accepted into The John Hopkins University of Medicine. I was ambitious, to say the least, and I was eager to pursue my dream. Much of this was due to the fact that my family practically lived and breathed science. As an infant and toddler, my mother would take me to her various night classes as she pursued becoming a Physician’s Assistant, and when I wasn’t in class with my mom, I was being kept by family members who were either physicians or engineers. From a very young age I was instilled with the belief that with science comes powerand I felt an unspoken pressure in my mind that when the time came, I too would pursue medicine as my career.
“I had let my pride and the expectations of others direct my life for so long that I might as well have been driving on the wrong side of the road on the interstate.”
When I arrived at college, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind when I declared my major to be Biomedical Sciences and my concentration as pre-medicine. Medicine and people were my passion, and pursuing medical school seemed like the only logical decision. However, as the semester went by, something always seemed to be missing. Inwardly, I was extremely restless and confused. I was pushing myself to be something that I was wasn’t and I hated myself for it.
While I debated to switch my major to Child Life, I sat on the decision for six months as I struggled with doubts and insecurities. I wanted to tell everyone that I had nothing to prove. That despite my sparkling GPA and expansive resume filled with graduate level classes and research projects, my credentials meant nothing to me. I just wanted to be happy. Yet, all I could still feel was fear and doubt.
What will people think of you, Devin? How will they react?
You couldn’t take the heat, could you?
You’re just lazy. You wouldn’t have made it, anyway.
If you can’t succeed in Biomedical Sciences, you’re definitely not going to be able to make it in Child Life.
Sure, take the easy way out.
You’ve failed your family.
You’ve failed yourself.
“It forced me to quit trying to fit people into predetermined molds of what I wanted them to be and it taught me that I don’t have to have an M.D. behind my name to make an impact on a child’s life.”
It wasn’t until a trip back home that I finally broke. The sun was setting, and the sky was an orange sherbet color with swirls of pink and blue. I was on the interstate with just a few other cars on the road, and all of a sudden it hit me. I am not where I belong, I thought. I was nowhere near where I belonged. I had let my pride and the expectations of others direct my life for so long that I might as well have been driving on the wrong side of the road on the interstate. I needed to be turned around.
Changing from a pre-medicine concentration to a Child Life concentration was not an easy decision, but it was the right one. It forced me to quit trying to fit people into predetermined molds of what I wanted them to be and it taught me that I don’t have to have an M.D. behind my name to make an impact on a child’s life. I’ve learned how to rock pink scrubs and pretend that I know where the mysterious glitter in my hair came from. My fridge is no longer sleek and clean but is now covered with enough craft pages that it looks like I have 12 kids at home.
“Whether it is being a Child Life Specialist…or something completely different, succeed not out of pride but out of the drive to become the purest form of yourself.”
Whenever family and friends ask me what a Child Life Specialist is, I still have small fleeting doubts about whether or not what I am doing is important, but these doubts no longer consume my life. I have found freedom in my decision to break against the cookie cutter mentality and to embrace the importance of having fun and addressing psychosocial needs. I am here to encourage any student or professional that it is never too late to change your plans, and that a change of plans does not equate to failure.
Whether it is being a Child Life Specialist, a physician, a physical therapist, a psychiatrist, a cardiorespiratory therapist, or something completely different, succeed not out of pride but out of the drive to become the purest form of yourself. It is true that with science there is power. But there is also power in your own voice. And in your own, individualistic way of thinking. Embody who you are and be free in it. Stop fighting for something that you’re not and believe in the person that you want to be.