"Passion.” It’s a fruit. It’s unbridled sexual voracity in a Victorian novel complete with heaving bosoms and fluttering eyelashes. And it’s that elusive something we’re all supposed to have for what we do in life, or at least everything we do with integrity. “What do you want to be when you grow up, Shira?” “I dunno yet, I’m eight.” “Well, whatever you do, make sure it’s something you’re passionate about!” “Sure, [insert random cousin whose name I probably didn’t even know at the time]. I’ll do that. Pass the matzah.”

Thus far, my “passions” have been macaroni and cheese, Ben Folds, and a couple of misguided romances. Not so helpful when picking a major, let me tell you. I hated the idea of a major, much as I knew it was necessary. When I was picking schools, I was told that Penn was the perfect balance between Columbia’s evil core requirements and Brown’s hippy “take anything you want and we’ll love you anyway” philosophy. Some direction, but not enough to stifle creativity. Something to work towards, but not precluding other interests. Even so, the major thing got to me. I saw it as what people defined you by academically, career-wise, and even personality-wise. If you were in business, you were either a cold-hearted bitch going to Wall Street or a pie in the sky entrepreneur who would open a kite-making company. If you were in engineering, you were good at math and could build a bridge if you wanted to. If you were in nursing, you were sweet and liked cherry-flavored lollypops. But arts and sciences – I had no clue what that meant. I was nothing, nobody, nowhere. I looked at the course offerings with a sense of awe and fear, unsure whether to take Indian Philosophy or Introduction to Sitar. What did it all mean? What were my requirements again? When do I have to pick a major by? End of sophomore year? OK, great, I’ve got time.

Fast forward about five seconds, and the end of sophomore year was upon me. I picked English because I knew I liked reading and writing, and I had no clue what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I’m also a psychology minor, but that’s only because I took Intro with Shatte because everyone else did, so I figured I may as well keep going. I asked some friends why they chose their majors and they said they either knew since high school what they were passionate about [insert image of heaving bosoms and fluttering eyelashes] or they just picked based on which subjects they had already fulfilled the most requirements in. “Your major doesn’t really matter in the long run,” one friend assured me, “what matters is that you learn as much as you can in your time here, and then hopefully by the end you’ll know where you want to go from there.” Hopefully. Great.

I decided to Google around to see if there was anything out there that I could’ve turned to for help before declaring my major.  (I love that, by the way, “declare”. On the day I went to the English office last year, I was disappointed at how anticlimactic the actual declaration process was. The head of the department just added my e-mail address to a listserv, and that was basically it – no declarations necessary, not even a statement, just a “how do I become an English major?” “Like this.” click, click, type, “you’re in.” What, no fanfare? No cake? Damn cheapskates. I bet Wharton kids get cake.) Anyway, I found a six-step program for the Undecided student:

Step 1. Self-assess your interests. …Obvi. Step 2. Examine your abilities. OK, that means no engineering or business for me. I’m already in the College, though, so…I knew that one. Thanks. Step 3. Examine what you value in work. I value helping people…but that applies to basically everything, if you want it to. Next. Step 4. Explore careers. Um, earlier in this article they said your major doesn’t have to do with your career at all. Sigh. Step 5. Reality check – What are your circumstances? My parents support me in anything I want to do, and I don’t care about making money since my doctor/lawyer husband will do that for me (I’m just kidding, oh my god put that lead pipe down you feminist psychopath,) so there’s nothing in my reality that will hold me back from anything. Unless I want to be an astronaut, but Apollo 13 already scared me out of that one. Step 6. Narrow your choices and pick a major! Is it just me, or was Step 6 the whole point of all the other steps, which didn’t lead me anywhere? Argh. The article concludes with this tidbit of terror: “Your major in college is important for your first job after graduation, but studies show that most people will change careers -- yes, careers -- about four or five times over the course of their lives -– and no major exists that can prepare you for that!” Wheeee, you’re screwed!!

This semester, I am in a bioethics class. It is the most interesting class I have taken at Penn, hands down. What does this mean? Me, the English major who has abhorred math and science ever since I can remember, fascinated by a science-based subject? Now I’ve got a whole new dilemma to deal with. I am passionate about this class. Seriously, I love to read for it, I love to go to it, and I love to talk about it to anyone who will (or won’t) listen. But alas, I am a second-semester junior with a declared major. I have no right to suddenly be interested in a subject about which I know nothing, have taken no classes in before, and have never even considered as a possibility. Why not? Because at this point, I simply don’t have enough time left here to actually pursue it as a major, nor do I even have the time to take any more classes in it because I still have to finish up requirements for English and Psych. So here I am, loving this subject, craving more of it, but basically having to either abandon the thought completely or stay at Penn for an extra semester or two to satiate my academic curiosity. But who wants to be the awkward fifth-year senior who only half-answers when people ask what year you are?

Basically, I wish I had known sooner. I know I shouldn’t complain, I know we all have ample time to test the waters and try out different classes, but for someone like me who has total ADD during course selection times, it just wasn’t enough. I know most people either don’t run into this problem, or don’t consider it much of a problem to begin with, considering how unimportant your major really is in the long run. But what about those of us who get stressed about it anyway? Sure, I could’ve gotten more help with this, and I did try, but my first college advisor left after freshman year, my second one left after sophomore year, (is it something I said?) and now my advisor is in the English department and all she can tell me is which English professors won’t bore me to death. I tried going to my newly assigned College advisor, but she gave me a five-minute slot and told me to go to career services. I tried going to career services but they were closed when I got there the first time, and the second time I went, they were just like, “make a resume. Then we’ll talk.” I pretty much suck at this whole “life” thing. I am the one that fell through the advisee cracks, and now I’m paying the price, or at least whining about it enough to make it seem like a huge deal.

So, here I am: Junior year, second semester, feeling way too much anxiety over this silly major business, and possibly, possibly on my way to finding my passion. Damn it, I should’ve just gone to Brown.