Career Dilemmas

Which is more important: Working for a cause you believe in, or enjoying the nature of your work?

Often, the two don’t exactly coincide. To use an extreme example, many people would agree that helping out starving children in poor developing countries is a worthwhile cause, but most would not actually venture out into the harsh conditions of sub-Saharan Africa to work for this cause. On the flip side, you may enjoy working in the luxury of an air-conditioned office building in mid-town Manhattan, but the thought of helping others trade securities for a living isn't aligned with your life goals.

One way of finding what you "believe in" is to think about what you believe will add value to society. Sometimes, this is not easy to gauge. Adding value itself is a very subjective term to begin with, as there is really no concrete way to measure value. In the end, it has to do with your own perceptions of what will make a positive impact. To some, adding value could be something as simple as creating a useful smartphone app for a small group of users. For others, it may mean conducting research on potential treatments for a widely prevalent disease.

Nature of the work refers to what you do on a day-to-day basis and encompasses all the practical aspects of work that may affect your quality of life, such as work environment, salary, and the types of people you interact with. These are not directly related to the ideas or content of the work, but are nevertheless important because they directly affect how we feel physically and emotionally.

Career dilemmas are often the result of a conflict between the two, and a decision has to be made which compromises one aspect. Sometimes, one aspect will clearly triumph over the other. For example, in rare instances, you may feel so strongly about a cause that you are willing to endure any hardships or inconveniences in the nature of your work in order to achieve your goal. On the other hand, if you have non-work related goals that you value more, then your career decision may be driven more by the nature of work that gives you the lifestyle you want and allows you to pursue activities that are important to you, such as raising a family or spending time on hobbies.

More often though, finding the right career is a balance of the two.  Imagine a two-by-two matrix, like the one shown below. Your career options can be divided into four quadrants based on where they fall in terms of the two aspects: For example, those ideal careers in which you both believe in the cause and enjoy the nature of the work would fall in the upper right. Where you end up in the matrix depends on what is most important to you at the moment, and many people end up somewhere near the center.

One last thought: Where does interest come into play here? The answer is, in both. Interest could refer to interest in the idea behind the product or service you are working on, or it could refer to interest in the day-to-day tasks the work requires. For example, ideally a software engineer would have an interest in the ideas and potential impact of the product he is developing, but in addition, also have an interest in the day-to-day coding and algorithm development.

Some Thoughts on Valentine's Day

I still remember back in the day, when I was in elementary school, Valentine's Day was this great big fun arts and crafts party. The night before, I would sit quietly at the dining table and with the utmost care, prepare 20 perfect little valentines. One year, I made pink flowers out of construction paper. Another year, I had Pokemon-themed valentine cards ("I choose YOU, to be my Valentine!"). The rule was that everyone in the class had to get one, and at the end of the school day, I'd leave happily with a little paper bag filled with 20 different valentines and a tummy full of heart-shaped candy and pink-frosted cupcakes.

Things changed dramatically when I got to middle school and high school. The “everyone-gets-one” rule was lifted, and Valentine's Day suddenly became a popularity contest of who got the most gifts, the most chocolates, the most heart-shaped balloons. It was a day of pretentious oohs and ahhs, giddy hugs, and high-pitched squeals. Everyone was so absorbed with their own little pink and red collection that the real meaning of the holiday was long forgotten. A quiet student who was definitely not in the popular crowd, I quickly grew to dread the infamous February day.

When I started dating my first boyfriend, my attitude changed yet again. Finally, the day truly meant something, and there was a real reason to celebrate. As our first Valentine’s Day together approached, I imagined a “perfect” night together, complete with all the typical props: red roses, lit candles, chocolates, and a romantic steak dinner with red wine (even though I don’t like wine!). There would be soft music playing in the background, and we would sit and talk quietly about anything and everything, letting the evening drift slowly into night, like we had all the time in the world.

Unfortunately, reality was a different story. To begin with, attempting to dine in a fancy restaurant on the evening of Valentine’s Day was a futile idea, and the long wait, large crowds, and clanging of dishes shattered my hopes for a quiet, romantic evening. Even more, since it was a weeknight with the pressure of getting up early the next morning, the idea of staying up late in each other’s company was not very practical, . Moreover, I had had a stressful day at work and part of me wanted to do nothing but curl up on the couch and read a book.

All in all, although I've had some enjoyable Valentine’s Days, somehow, no matter who I was with or what I was doing, it never turned out to be as good as I had dreamt it up to be. The extravagant commercials and flashy store decorations that mark this holiday have become so ingrained in us that we've come to expect a degree of magic and splendor that just doesn't exist.

In the end, Valentine’s Day is not about the chocolates, the flowers, or the cards, but rather, it is about taking the time to show your special someone just how important they are to you. It is about showing them how much you care and how much you appreciate all they have done for you. It is a time to celebrate the love and effort you have both put into your relationship. 

There is a famous song with a line that goes, “If you fall in love with the right person, then everyday will be like Valentine’s Day.”And when you think about it, it couldn't be more true. When you are really with the right person, you should already be doing all of those things anyway, and more than just once a year!

So, I hope everyone has a great Valentine’s Day, but I also hope that you will remember to look beyond the overwhelming sea of pink and red, and give some thought to what the day is really about.

The Big Red Car

Mom called me the other day and told me that she had finally sold her car, a 2001 Mercedes E430.

“Too expensive to maintain,” she’d been complaining recently. “It only drinks premium gas.”

I didn't blame her. Gas prices were hovering around $4.00 per gallon, and that was just for regular gas.

“Well, how much did you get for it?

“$8000.”

I could feel my heart break a little. Not just because $8000 seemed like a rip off for a luxury car that, besides a few small mechanical problems, was otherwise still in what seemed like great condition, but because $8000 could not even begin to capture all the wonderful memories contained in that car.

We got the car at a car auction when I was in high school. The day before the auction, my parents and I drove about 2 hours to the other side of town, where we spent the day wandering around a huge lot filled with cars of all shapes, sizes, and colors. There was a pretty steel gray BMW that seemed to be in perfect condition except for the fact that the trunk wouldn't close all the way, a deep emerald green Infiniti with black leather seats, a silver Audi station wagon. We wrote down all the ones we liked, and the next day, my parents went back to the car auction to bid on our top choices. But as luck would have it, they hit traffic on the way there, and by the time they arrived, all our top picks were gone.  Instead, they returned with the Mercedes.

Needless to say, I was both shocked and delighted when I saw the vivid, deep red car parked majestically in front of our home, the famous Mercedes logo sparkling in the afternoon sun. My parents worked very hard, and although they didn't have trouble making ends meet, they had always taught me to live frugally and buy only what I really needed. I couldn't believe that they had decided to splurge for once, but at the same time, I felt that they truly deserved it.

“I drove the Mercedes home!” Mom exclaimed proudly, quite an accomplishment for her since she rarely drove such long distances, not to mention in an unfamiliar car. From that day on, Mom was the one who drove the Mercedes, while Dad took our old Honda Accord. Because the Mercedes, which we nicknamed the “Big Red Car”, required premium gas, it made sense to give it to Mom, who had the shorter commute. Dad was a great sport about it; if he was jealous at all, he didn't show it one bit.

On weekdays, Mom would pick me up from school. When the bell rang at exactly 2:51 pm, I would make a beeline out of the stuffy English classroom and scurry across campus, past the library, the music room, the foreign language classrooms, to where Mom was waiting for me in the Big Red Car. After a day of multiple choice tests, surprise in-class essays, and catty fights during gym class, I would feel a surge of relief as I climbed into the passenger seat, breathing in the familiar smell of the tan leather seats. I was quiet and kept to myself during class, and by the time school ended, I was bursting with stories about the triumphs and disappointments of the day. As I chatted away, Mom would drive us around to run errands before heading home. First, it was to the recycling center, where we’d drop off the plastic bottles we had accumulated over the past few weeks in exchange for a few ice cream dollars. Then, it was to Safeway to buy some fresh ingredients for dinner and a sandwich for lunch the next day. Sometimes, we’d stop by the local park for a bit of exercise after a stressful day.

The eye-catching red meant that we almost never had trouble finding it in a parking lot, unlike our black Honda Accord, for which there were way too many clones and look-a-likes. Once, while Mom and I were shopping, we had quite a scare. As we were leaving the store, we scanned the parking lot and immediately spotted the Big Red Car. But as we approached it, something did not seem right. There was a huge scratch across the rear side of the car. The trunk had a layer of brown film over it with what looked like fingerprints.

“Oh no, someone damaged the car!” I cried, panicking. But then the unfamiliar combination of letters and numbers on the license plate caught my eye. “Wait a minute…”

Turns out we had the wrong car. Apparently, a clone of the Big Red Car did exist, even in our small town! Embarrassed, we quickly backed away before anyone thought that we had done the damage.

The first time I ever drove a car, it was the Big Red Car. I had just gotten my driver’s permit and couldn't wait to get on the road. Dad had taken the Honda out of town, leaving Mom and I with our bright red friend.  As I stared at it parked out in the driveway, it seemed to beckon me to take it out for a spin. On the other hand, the thought of having my first driving lesson in a Mercedes seemed extravagant and a bit terrifying. Mom, who was often a nervous driver herself, was surprisingly encouraging and took me across the street to practice in an empty parking lot. I climbed into the driver seat, and she took the passenger side. Patiently, she showed me where the brake and accelerator were and how to adjust the seat by pushing a few cool buttons on the door shaped like the different parts of the seat.

“Just remember, keep your foot on the brake. If I say ‘stop’, then STOP!”

She showed me how to release the parking brake and switch the gear to drive mode. I cautiously released my foot from the brake, and the car began to inch forward. We were moving! I turned the steering wheel to the right slightly. The car obediently turned just the right amount, contrary to what I had experienced in arcade racing games, where the slightest turn made you crash into the wall. I turned the other way, and the car followed. Soon, I was able to make laps around the parking lot. I felt on top of the world, sitting in the driver seat of the Big Red Car.

The Big Red Car weaved its way into my high school days and became an integral part of my life. Much more than just a transportation vehicle, it was where Mom and I bonded over life’s little adventures, some more exciting than others, but all equally memorable. That is what makes this car priceless.