When I came to cherubs, I figured my experience would be different from that of my peers. From what I had heard, I was the only person coming to camp who knew she didn’t want to become a journalist.

I love the beauty of writing and the thrill of reporting, and my life at home often does revolve around my high school newspaper. But those things aren’t quite enough. I like math and science—things that journalism cherubs typically can’t stand. I think derivatives are straight-up fun and correctly balancing an acid-base reaction is rewarding. 

When I arrived at Jones, I found out that my instructor for the summer would be Mary Lou Song. Mary Lou loved coffee, good food and newswriting just as much as I did. But more importantly, she loved math.

Mary Lou worked in business. She told me it was okay that I didn’t want to be a journalist, because the communication skills I’d gain at cherubs would be invaluable no matter what career path I followed. Her advice was comforting, and it rarely left my mind during those first few weeks. John Kupetz’s lessons on editorial writing would be applicable in other fields, and learning to be direct and concise would help me communicate effectively no matter what I did.

This lasted through the fourth week. I was learning, and I was happy. My cherub friends were witty and fun, and my instructors were brilliant. But I still didn’t want to be a journalist. My resolve was finally tested, though, on Thursday night, when Bret Begun gave his lecture on landing a journalism job by age 21.

I took notes, figuring that even if they wouldn’t be handy for me, someone else might find Bret’s tips useful. At the end of the speech, he added one more note. Journalism, he said, was one of the most rewarding jobs in the world. Even if you may not become rich in money, you would be rich in experiences. Why sit at a desk from 9 to 5 when you could go and see the world, covering things like the 2000 presidential election or the Monica Lewinsky scandal?

Bret made journalism sound exciting, the way it had seemed when I first became a reporter. His words stayed with me the next day, when I went for my conference with Mary Lou. We recapped my work from the summer and then branched off, talking about college and coffee. And then she told me the news article I had turned in was actually good—that I was a talented reporter and I could go far in the field if I wanted to.

That kind of praise was rare, and I repeated it to myself at random points in the day. That Friday ended with Mary Lou’s lecture on how she became involved with eBay, and she gave one last piece of advice. Do what you love. That love might turn up in unexpected places, but if it does, roll with it. The rest will follow.

Cherubs reminded me why I love journalism, even if I also love math. I don’t know if those two passions will ever work together, but I like to believe that they can. More importantly, I’m no longer worried about finding that perfect career. I have time. And whether it’s reporting on the next big election or working with technology that doesn’t yet exist, I know sooner or later, I will find a singular passion that makes me happy. I won’t sit at a desk from 9 to 5, dying to leave the office. The rest will have to follow.