I started college as a business major. 

It made sense. Business is practical, versatile. It promised plenty of job options and, hopefully, a decent paycheck someday. There were a lot of ways to answer the inevitable question, “What are you going to do with your degree?” Usually, my answer was some confident yet vague variation of “I could do pretty much anything.” 

Then I switched to kinesiology, a degree that requires a little more explanation. And somewhere along the way, I realized we have a weird way of talking about college degrees. Why are we so concerned about having a good answer to that question in the first place? 

We try to maneuver ourselves into the intersection of practicality and purpose. Find something you can get paid well to do, but also something you enjoy. Find a career that is stable but not boring, meaningful but financially responsible. We explain our way into this big decision.

At 18, we look at return on investment, job markets and projected salaries and try to make a decision about what the next 40 years of our lives should look like while still having only a set of plastic dishes and a beat-up pair of tennis shoes to our names.

And you can’t ignore money. It would be silly to pretend otherwise. 

But I would argue that even choosing a practical degree doesn’t guarantee that it’s worth it. You can have a great answer to “What are you going to do with that?” and still miss something. 

I think there are two parts to a degree: what it prepares you to do and what it helps you become. 

Practicality has become so dominant that we sometimes forget college is also supposed to be formative. Somewhere between all the introductions that start with name, hometown and major, we have lost something of the heart and soul of higher education. 

A degree should make you capable, yes. But it should also make you into someone who is altogether better than where you started. More curious. More confident. More thoughtful. More kind. More alive. 

And that doesn’t necessarily come from picking the “right” major. 

I do think some degrees are more worthwhile than others. I don’t think every degree is automatically worth the time, money and opportunity cost that comes with it. There may very well be more value in learning accounting than memorizing bacteria in microbiology, or learning how to write proficiently than in learning history.

But picking the most lucrative major doesn’t guarantee that you will grow into someone you are proud to be. And neither does choosing the thing you are most passionate about. If I had the talent, I could’ve studied art, made a little money, had great passion for it and still ended up without the character of the true, confident, generous and committed woman I aspire to be. 

The things that make college worth it are outside the degree. A degree can never encompass all your values and dreams at the same time.  

It is the professor who made you realize there’s adventure out there. The friend who gets you better than anyone else does. The conversation that changed your mind. The moment you realized you could be a leader. The late-night conversations when you were supposed to be studying. The experience that made you realize you were capable of more than you thought. 

It is the network, the people, the experiences and, hopefully, the person you become.  

So yes, ask what you are going to do with your degree. Learn everything you can and try to choose something that will steer you towards a career you’ll love. 

But remember, it’s worth more than the paycheck.