Blog Post: Conversations and Backup Plans

Most of us have heard someone’s version of, “Make sure you have a backup plan in case this doesn’t work out” whenever we share our passions or major. We especially hear it if we’re humanities majors who also happen to be passionate about writing.

So, what should we say? How do we react when someone with good intentions essentially shuts down our passions and tells us they aren’t enough to get by?

Do we keep writing? Do we stop writing? Is a writer a writer if they do not write? If they stop writing for a little bit to focus on a career?

I have the great answer that we all want to hear. It will solve every problem and give you a clear idea of what to do next:

It’s complicated.

See, doesn’t that make you feel better? Just like those comments about having a backup plan?

Okay, maybe that’s a little spiteful, and you, my dear reader, don’t deserve it, because you aren’t the one who told me to have a backup plan. You also have probably felt similar feelings of dissatisfaction when trying to figure things out and getting advice from people.

But am I wrong about it being complicated? There’s some wisdom in having a backup plan in case something doesn’t work out. Maybe not a perfectly planned thing that tells you exactly what to do if this one little thing goes wrong, but something that you can fall back on in case your original plan falls through the cracks.

For example, let’s pretend I tell you that I want to go all in on creative writing. I want to become the next biggest reporter for The New York Times, which means I’m going to move to New York after graduation and start politely bombarding them until they realize my worth. Now, that sounds a little ridiculous. It’s not thought out. It’s unplanned beyond the vague outline of something that works in fairy tales. This is a good time to tell me to have a backup plan. Something that can support me as I make my way to the #1 reporter spot.

Maybe I should start off by sending them articles I’ve written for school, for internships, or just for myself. Give them a taste of what I write, who I am, and how I approach things. Get them interested. While I do that, I can also send those articles to other places, companies, and people who are likeminded and interested in the same things as me. I could interact with those people, connect with them, and learn more about the industry with every conversation. From there, maybe I’ll find the right connection that gets me into that #1 reporter spot.

But again, that’s another fantasy world where everything works out and is perfect. It still shows you supporting my passion for writing, not necessarily snubbing your nose to the thing I love but just telling me to not be too stupid.

Let’s do another simulation, then:

You ask me what I’m studying. I tell you I want to study English and writing—maybe even creative writing. You give me a look, then tell me I should consider broadening my degree and not just focusing only on creative writing. Now I give you a look… and put on a fake smile so that the conversation ends.

I think that’s a little closer to what I imagine when I bring up the have a backup plan conversation. Maybe exaggerated, but I remember having at least one or two of these conversations with people trying to help me figure things out.

I can’t really be mad at them. I understand where they’re coming from, and it does help get the brain going because it really is important to know what to do when you don’t know what to do. Which doesn’t make sense, but in a way, it does, right?

Backup plans are helpful, so you don’t end up on the streets because you jumped a little too far. It’s good to take a leap of faith, but it’s also good to know you have support if your leap fails. Taking the leap isn’t always about success, it’s about trying. Failure is a valuable teacher, so if you do fail, don’t take it as actual failure. Take it as you tried, you did your best, and now you know what to do or what not to do next time. Life is about learning, not about competing.

Let’s tie this back into those backup plan conversations:

I think you should have a backup plan. I think having one is  fine and doesn’t diminish your passions.

I don’t think you should cling so tightly to that backup plan that you don’t try something new.

Talk to people and hear what they have to say. Listen to their advice. Write it down, even. Just don’t get stuck in their mindset, because what’s good in their mind may not be good in yours.

Don’t be discouraged if people say to have a backup plan. They mean well (usually). Be confident. Anything we do is risky. It’s about learning what’s best for us in the long run according to our own terms, not someone else’s.

And, ultimately, have fun. Enjoy life because this is the one you’ve been given. Do the crazy thing as long as you don’t do it every day. Try that new restaurant, try that new food, visit that new place. Do something new and fun because sometimes you have to forget you’re looking for that backup plan. Sometimes you just have to take that leap again, but this time, it’s for your own happiness and not for a job.