Commencements, Checklists, and What We Call “Success”
I survived a weekend in LA—between the nightmare traffic and managing impromptu, last‑minute plans with my ex in‑laws. 😅 All of it was in service of the main event: my niece’s commencement at UCLA.
After two years of hard work, she graduated from the engineering school with a degree in Materials Science. The weather was perfect. Rows upon rows of graduates rose from their seats and walked down the “red carpet” to receive their diplomas. It was joyful, proud, and full of possibility.
And yet—even in that moment—there was a familiar undertone.
As proud as my ex sister‑in‑law clearly was, she still hinted that maybe her daughter should consider medical school at Columbia instead of pursuing a PhD. More prestige. More certainty. More… something. It reminded me of how I grew up hearing there were only a handful of professions truly worth pursuing: doctors, lawyers, accountants—and later, engineers finally made the “A list.” 😅 There was also an unspoken hierarchy of schools: Ivy Leagues, MIT, Harvard… with a few others just barely making the cut.
Standing there at the ceremony, I couldn’t help but wonder:
Does the school we attend—or the major we choose—really determine the outcome of our lives? And does following the mainstream narrative of “good school → successful career” actually make us happier?
I graduated from a fairly “reputable” university with a computer science degree. I happened to choose a major that aligned well with a major technology wave, and I now hold a decent position at a “reputable” company. By most external measures, that looks like success. But does that make me any more fulfilled—or happier—than a smiling street vendor enjoying a meaningful day serving hungry customers?
I don’t have an answer.
I’m just noticing how deeply these definitions of success are ingrained—and how often we repeat them, even during moments meant to celebrate something already extraordinary.
Still thinking this one through.
