JULY 10 — The talk in college over the last few weeks has been everyone’s summer plans. Summer jobs in pubs and coffee shops aside, many are going to Uganda, Rwanda, Nicaragua, Ghana and Kyrgyzstan for charity work. Some have accepted internship stints in Shanghai, London and New York. Others are undertaking academic attachments in Stanford and MIT, or travelling around the continent. 

I recognise that the list seems pretty predictable — volunteering in developing countries, interning in cosmopolitan cities and doing research at top education institutions in the world. But my point isn’t quite about where people go to, my point is that they go. 

That they’re doing something with the generous summer vacation university affords them, instead of lazing around the house doing nothing (of course the latter has its own merits, because we do need leisure breaks after periods of working intensely, but these are not merits I plan to talk about here). That college students are taking charge of the time that they have to explore, to learn new skills and to experiment being in different working environments. 

Recently a dear friend gave me The Defining Decade, a book by a clinical psychologist that talks about our twenties and how to make the most of it. Drawing examples from her clients, Meg Jay comes up with a list of tools that would be helpful for twentysomethings as we navigate through the freedom and burden, bountiful opportunities and unemployment, motivation and directionlessness that encircles our collegiate and post-collegiate existence. 

I am usually not a fan of writing that aims to locate the issues of our generation; of growing up, of the vicissitudes in life, and then proceed to postulate certain ways in which to confront these issues. As if it was that simple, or as if it was useful to provide solutions to issues that are changing in nature even as we speak. 

The columnist believes that twentysomethings who take the time to explore and also have the nerve to make commitments along the way construct stronger identities. — AFP pic

But this book was unpretentious in its way of dealing with difficult, perennial questions that plague us twentysomethings. It was honest in a way I could appreciate, and was not quite your run-of-the-mill self-help book. Perhaps more like the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, it provides anecdotes that inspire; although unlike the series, it does the analysis for you. 

The first chapter talks about “identity capital”, which refers to “our collection of personal assets”, the “repertoire of individual resources that we assemble over time.” Identity capital can be both concrete and abstract. Something like which university you come from and the grades you attain would be concrete capital; whereas charisma would be an abstract one. 

Here is an excerpt that summarises the chapter:

Twentysomethings who take the time to explore and also have the nerve to make commitments along the way construct stronger identities. They have higher self-esteem and are more persevering and realistic. This path to identity is associated with a host of positive outcomes, including a clearer sense of self, greater life satisfaction, better stress management, stronger reasoning, and resistance to conformity — all the things Helen wanted. 

Being in the insular university bubble, with parties and drinks and joyful celebrations (think spring fling, commemoration balls, Holi festivals and post-exam trashing) heading “events of the week/term/year”, it’s all too easy to forget that while we’re doing all these exploring and enjoying in university, we’re also meant to build concrete capital along the way. Stuff that would help us in our post-twentysomethings, in our career, in the decisions we make in life. 

As my friends shared their summer plans, I could not help but be glad for them. There are so many reasons to be glad — because we have the privilege to make these plans, because we’re given the opportunity and support to plan and allow these plans to materialise, and because we’re actively doing something, taking charge of our freedom lest it degenerates into burden, assuming control of our paths as we meander about the course of life. 

Sometimes it’s the doing that allows you to start knowing more about yourself, about what you want in life — and not the thinking, the overwhelming feeling of loss when you’re given an opportunity too many. I never realised how much my university choice was right for me, until I spent a full year in university. 

Like many others infected by the dream of going to college in America, where you can do anything and everything in the first two years because the liberal arts system encourages dabbling and experimentation, I always felt I was more suited for such a flexible environment. 

I found it difficult to see myself pursuing a strict academic discipline throughout three or four years in university — partly due to my attention deficit, and due to my range of interests and fancies. But while I was focussed on the academic possibilities of American colleges, I never quite considered the non-academic aspect of college, such as the nature of college communities, the quality of social interaction and the work-play balance in university. 

It was only after coming to Oxford, that I realised I treasured close-knit communities that the collegiate system offers, the close-knit and familiar community within Oxford colleges, and the ability to try out and compete in sports like rowing, ice-hockey, and dancesport even as a novice. 

The same applies to going to places you’ve never been, trying work environments you’d never imagine yourself being suitable for and such. Perhaps we should understand the intertwinement of our own conscious actions and that fate of this world will put us in places best fit for us, in ways beyond our comprehension; and who knows, life will always have their pleasant, quiet surprises.

* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.