“Maybe, I’ll just be a stay at home boyfriend,” I thought, as I stretched on Imani’s couch. She already left for work, and it left me slightly self-conscious. Well, she is a whole attorney, so my jobless male ego easily took a hit. But that was okay because I could sweep before she came home from work.

A little under a month ago I was back at Andrews on a consistent loop of waking up, getting ready for work, going to work, and then going home and eating dinner. An episode of a favorite TV show usually made an appearance in that loop too. It was comfy, it was nice, and I felt like an adult. But I had to leave, with or without a job (I took option 2). Don’t get me wrong, I am a big planner, I love being prepared and considering everything that could go wrong. I tried to avoid such a huge risk as much as I could but everything around me kept pointing to the decision to throw my life in a blender.

Anyway, I was spending the week out in Maryland in order to search for employment in person. I was hoping to move to the DMV because for years, I have felt an incredibly strong urge to live and work there. It doesn’t hurt that they have Bird, the scooter rental service, all over the city to use (You should try that, it’s amazing. I burned so many calories). I wanted a change, and really be satisfied in my career. I never really understood the privilege of being able to do that, until now.

In March of 2012, I walked into a classroom that was farthest west in Gates-Chili High school. The teenage awkwardness coupled with the reality that this was only my second year here, contributed to general sense discomfort. However, in this psychology class, I was able to watch Sybil (interesting inspiration) and decide that I wanted to pursue that field in college, and eventually become a clinical psychologist. Honestly, I was afraid to choose anything remotely creative. Photography and journalism were where I was really leaning. “I wouldn’t make any money doing those things”, is what I thought. By going for the safest bet, and the one that would possibly relieve my parents the most, I just put off what I would eventually be experiencing in 2019. Trying to do what I love. Of course, the process is harder now because of bills and not being in school anymore. A degree goes a long way. But I think this process was inevitable, and it can be terrifying.

Almost a week after I had left Maryland, I was driving my dad back to the family house in Rochester from a tire shop just up the street. Mom’s van needed to get new tires, and my dad likes getting things done sooner than a later. So, we did this early. Past 6:30 am but not late enough to feel bad for not taking a shower yet. A knot inside my chest was under threat of taking over the steering duty from my hands and careening us off the road. Clearly, I needed some perspective, so I asked my father if he’s been in a similar situation.

In May 1988, Eric and Merna Smart were married in Jamaica. Not too long after, the newly deemed Mrs. Smart immigrated to Rochester, NY by way of her father. There are two big truths about Eric, he loved Merna and he loved electricity. He had to stay behind on the island and wait for his green card, so he worked as an electrician. It was his dream field, with varying amounts of voltage. He became a trusted servant to wires, switches, and modern energy, all while being his own boss. You’d think that he would jump to the most stable job possible, after getting the knot tied. But not him, from the ground up, he built his own clientele. Working from house to house, with no guarantee that work will be there tomorrow. When he finally reunited with Merna in America, he worked at a temp agency for 12 months before he got a job at Corbett-Steeves. That’s two years of potent uncertainty, all while being newly married. But he got where he needed to be while staying committed to what he loved to do. Despite having to take a hiatus from his passion, and not knowing what laid ahead, he persisted.

Fortunately, my hands retained control of the driving situation that morning. My father was 25 when all of that happened and it seems my time has also come to experience a certain kind of uncertainty too. That’s the interesting thing about uncertainty, it’s a space we try to escape from as soon as possible but maybe the key is learning to live there. Without that, can we really take the necessary risks, and live a life that we’re proud of? Maybe my parents didn’t take as many risks in life, so I could have the opportunity to. That’s the privilege, that I didn’t realize in high school. I hope to fully realize it now. Anyone hiring?