Over the past month I have faced a gut-wrenching career choice. It is the reason I’ve been so out of touch with this site, and for that I apologize. But I’ve finally reached a decision and feel ready to write about it.
Because of a contact I made at a forensics conference this year, I was offered a position at the company for which he works. For privacy purposes I won’t disclose the name, but suffice it to say it is one of the world’s most impressive forensic labs, and that is no exaggeration. It was an amazing opportunity, and one that I thought I would never have. And the salary matched the prestige of the position I was offered – the whole package was mind-blowing. I was honored and more than a little flattered. I almost accepted.
Perhaps a more career savvy person would have jumped at the chance. Perhaps I should have. But I chose to remain where I am, with a significantly lower salary, much less stature and prominence, and a very shaky future. Why? Because of the things I consider important.
For some, money and stature are the ultimate career goals. But for me they have never been as important as doing something I am passionate about and personally invested in. I made a commitment to this field because I care deeply about it and see a great future for it, and I’d like to continue to be a part of it. Maybe that will change somewhere down the line and I will move on to something else, but for the time being I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything close to what I set out to do, and the thought of abandoning those goals at this point in my life made me unbelievably sad.
There are many challenges I face on a daily basis in my current position, some of which seem insurmountable at times. But I don’t want to be a quitter – not when so much is personally at stake. I want to give it my best shot. I want to be able to look back and say I tried, even if things don’t work out. I have to swallow my fear and charge ahead.
This decision has been the toughest one I’ve faced in my professional life. It caused me countless sleepless nights and horrible stress, and I know I was a terribly unpleasant person to be around during the whole process. And I still struggle with the choice I made and probably will for awhile. Did I do the right thing? Was this a smart move? Or was it another rotten mistake? Maybe I’ll never know. All I do know is that I have to move on and take my parents’ advice and not look back. Focus on the good things: I get to stay close to family, be in a city I love (love to hate, at times!), and work with animals. I can have the satisfaction of keeping a job I fought tooth and nail to get, despite all of its problems (and there are many). I can be a trendsetter and a pioneer. I can start things that have never been done before. I will not have to be just another nameless cog in a wheel.
The frustrations will be many and there will be lots of times I just want to give up – this I know. But I won’t. I have ideas and enthusiasm for this. Whatever this becomes will be a direct result of what I make happen. I am determined. And I have a lot to learn. I am scared, but I will survive (I think).
I thought I’d close this post with a video that sums it all up. Those who know me know I am a Phillies fan for life, and hold a special place in my heart for legendary sportscaster Harry Kalas who left us far too soon. He was an amazing person, and hearing his voice reminds me of summer nights as a kid with my dad, watching the Phils battle it out. Kalas is well known for singing a song called “High Hopes” by Frank Sinatra, and whenever I struggle with sadness or frustration, it is my go-to mantra. It is a very fitting song for this occasion.
Onward and upward.
Click the link below to sing along
Next time your found, with your chin on the ground
There a lot to be learned, so look around
Just what makes that little old ant
Think he’ll move that rubber tree plant
Anyone knows an ant, can’t
Move a rubber tree plant
But he’s got high hopes, he’s got high hopes
Hes got high apple pie, in the sky hopes
So any time your gettin’ low
‘Stead of lettin’ go
Just remember that ant
Oops there goes another rubber tree plant