This might sound familiar, perhaps even a little cliche: a young professional in a big city working at a high-pressure corporate job who hates said job (therefore, refuses to be a superstar employee) has a radical epiphany, decides to quit (lest she get fired soon anyway), shreds her business cards, gives away all her suits and business casual attire, and moves to a farm in rural America to live the pure life. Just so we get this out of the way now: that is not me. Yes, on paper it sounds like me. But I didn't end up here because I burned out, became a hippie, or wanted to pursue a new life philosophy. I ended up here due to a much simpler motivation: because I realized it was the choice I should have made all along. Dreaming has never been hard for me. I've dreamt up many vocations that I know would fit my personality and that I would enjoy doing. It was the doing that I found baffling. There wasn't an exact moment I knew how or what to "do." It was a slow process of subconsciously absorbing the message that, fail or not, at least I tried to pursue a dream versus settling for none. My lesson was well summarized at my good friend's wedding ceremony this weekend. Just as I was zoning out and waiting for the next cue to stand, the priest delivered a message that, though seemingly wildly unrelated to marital bliss, caught my ear: The first basic step to finding something fulfilling is to recognize that collecting status markers and achieving our way to who we are is never going to work. Similarly, when I removed the pressure of conventional notions of success and advancement, I found it a lot easier to listen and follow my real passion. After all, it was just common sense. I was not happy in the types of jobs I had steered myself into. The prestige of a six-figure salary meant nothing, and my success in law school never spit me out to any place I wanted to be. So why not try something I've thought for years would make me happy. Writing and cheese!
The best part is, I'm confident that I can use something I love to bring others who visit Cheesy Street a little joy as well.
It was a blessing in disguise that the terrible economy brought out the worst in people and in the legal business within my first year in the professional world. I started to get angry and see the practice of law as a circular, frustrating, sedentary, and often solitary exercise in winning small meaningless, and occasionally morally repugnant, battles. The tough times forced me to examine what I wanted early and not let too much "life" pass me by.
Admittedly, there are many meaningful and rewarding avenues for lawyers to make a living. Many of my friends are bright, happy lawyers. I'm a ragey law hater and even I still find interest in areas like First Amendment and agricultural policy. I suppose it is just a matter of fitting into the daily mold of a particular job, which I did not.
I started looking for government jobs, thinking perhaps I just hated private sector. It wasn't long before I completely stopped looking at the "legal" category on USAjobs, preferring the more active jobs in the "investigative" and "arts/public affairs" category. I had uncovered a personality disconnect in the careers for which I was trained to look. I needed something more creative, hands-on, and socially interactive.
On a sunny Saturday afternoon, as I'm carrying two handfuls of Target bags back from the metro stop, my boyfriend calls and tells me I should be a cheese apprentice. Immediately I assumed cheese apprentice was a job he made up. It felt a lot like each Christmas when he suggests I would be an exceptional member of Santa's North Pole workshop. I get really giddy for a second before realizing that it will never happen for obvious reasons that I still refuse to admit. But after careful internet research, I discovered it was a real position and a wonderful way to learn about the cheese industry.
At first, it sounded like a good plan to get my head straight after a year and a half of the self-esteem and morale beat-down I had received at the hands of Big Law. With more research, I started to connect that plan with my dream to open a fun, approachable cheese shop. I stumbled on cheesemaking classes at the University of Vermont's Institute of Artisan Cheese (VIAC), researched the best American-made artisanal cheeses, read about cheese store owners, and spoke with and visited experienced artisanal cheesemakers.
Everything fit together as a way to integrate myself into the industry. I needed to know more about cheese other than I like to stuff my face with it.
After attending VIAC, I committed to two apprenticeships. The first will be at Cato Corner in Connecticut for the summer, and the second is with Black Sheep Creamery in Washington state for the fall. After that I will look for further avenues for exploration and experience in the retail world.
It's a risk, not just because of the financial ramifications, but also because this might not end up being exactly what I wanted or thought it would be. Maybe I will realize in a few years that opening a business isn't in the financial or strategic cards for me. Maybe the road will bring me to a slightly different destination. But at least I've learned the types of vocations for which I'm better suited. More importantly, at least I can look back and say I tried something I've always wanted to try. Free from significant responsibilities and having widdled down my student debt, it is now or never for me to give cheese a shot.
So I'm diving all in. "Rule 76"! No back-up plan, no fall-back. It's all cheese, all the time!
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