Asking A New Question

September and the start of a new school year is a perfect time for self reflection. Rested and recentered after the summer, I can take a step back and evaluate the way I live my life.

The same questions crop up year after year: Am I balancing my life well? Am I taking advantage of what life is offering? Am I achieving my goals? Am I really giving my best? And then comes one that is always a bit frightening: Am I heading toward some place I want to arrive?

The last question, I have concluded, is important enough to render all the others somewhat trivial--and it's a question those at Harvard don't ask nearly enough.

Every student here worked hard to be successful in high school. At that time, there was a ready-made definition of success that fit me beautifully: getting into a great college that would prepare me for anything I would ever want to do. It was the right goal, and I've never been sorry I worked so hard for it.

That push toward success continues here, and it enriches the College in many of the ways the contributions of highly motivated students enrich high schools. There are a huge number of worthwhile extracurriculars on campus. Section discussions are often challenging and dynamic. You can always find someone doing something interesting.

But there is a negative side as well; very few seem to recognize that ready-made definitions for success may not fit anymore.

Choosing a college means planning four years of your life; three if you subtract all the summers. The kind of choices we are making now have many far-reaching ramifications.

Common sense says people should first decide what kind of life they want to live and then go about achieving it. But here, it is so easy to get caught up in the race for the top that we forget to ask where, exactly, that top would be--not to mention whether we would like it there.

Part of the reason for the dominion of purpose over progress is Harvard's excellence at guiding students along traditionally successful routes. We have fellowships tutors in each house. We have umpteen advisers to lay out a course into the most prestigious medical, law and graduate schools. The on-campus recruiting process provides a good foundation toward a high-paying career in business.

This guidance is not a bad thing, but it is too often given to people who have failed to seek guidance from themselves before asking it of others.

Here, at one of the most success-driven places in the world, we pity those who don't have a specific life plan, and admire those headed off to do "great things." We feel guilty if we aren't spending every moment "getting ahead." While there is nothing wrong with doing great things or working toward goals, our approval should be given to those who know not what they are doing with their lives, but why.

This year, I am making it my goal to craft my own definition of success--to worry less about the hows and more about the whys. I invite every driven, over-motivated Harvard student to do the same.

I'm challenging myself to remember that my career is only going to be a portion of my life--and hence, I should only devote a portion of my time to making that category of decisions. I'm challenging myself to think more about the kind of family, community and internal life I want to have and spend time working toward those goals as well.

Most of all, I'm challenging myself to reject the definitions of success others throw around. I'm going to ask myself "Why?" a little bit sooner, and the question "How?" a little bit later. How is almost always an easier question to answer anyway.

If I can meet my own challenges, I know the reward will be worth the effort. Corny as it may sound, life is always worth living when you are giving everything you've got to get somewhere you want to go.

Valerie J. MacMillan's column appears