Everyone talks about landing a “dream job,” but how often does that actually happen?
Career choices, ages 10-12
Astronaut. Professional wrestler. These were the career options that most intrigued me between the ages of 10 and 12, although I’d also been fascinated with electrical stuff of all kinds from an early age.
The Major Matt Mason astronaut action figure was my toy of choice at age 10, which is unsurprising since that was the year of the Apollo 13 moon landing. In fact, I loved doing pretend astronaut things so much that I wore one MMM out and had to beg my parents to buy me another.
And professional wrestling was must-watch TV every Saturday afternoon, which my buddy and I then dissected in detail via landline rotary telephone immediately afterward. Teenage girls had nothing on how long the two of us spent railing about incompetent refereeing in the locally distributed American Wrestling Association matches.
Coming from a working-class family in North Winnipeg, I never dreamed I could be an astronaut, and I became disillusioned when I discovered that professional wrestling was fake. Damn. So much for those choices. I think I actually cried about the latter.
But what did I actually want to BE?
Becoming an electrician or perhaps an electrical engineer (whatever that was, but it involved the word “electrical”) continued to hold some appeal, even though that didn’t sound nearly as glamorous as “astronaut” or “wrestler.” But thinking about career choices slipped well below the radar as I navigated the challenging junior high years (Grades 7-9).
Some people know what they want to “be” very early in their lives. Then, they work toward that goal through education, volunteer work, and other stepping stones to their “dream job.” If they’re lucky (one supposes), they stay in that type of work – or some version of it – all their lives and then eventually retire from that.
Not so the case for me.
However, my interest in things electrical never waned, so I attended a technical-vocational high school (aptly named “Technical-Vocational High School” or “Tec-Voc”), where I not only learned the trade but also had the opportunity to take almost all the courses I would need for university entrance. During that time, I also did a lot of “side” electrical jobs for people, especially in the summer, which was a darn sight more interesting and flexible than flipping burgers somewhere.
From electrical construction to a PhD in history?
To make a long story short, I couldn’t get a job in electrical construction in Winnipeg (which would have been my dream job at that time) after high school, so I decided to move to Edmonton, where I had friends. I pissed a couple of years away doing jobs that had nothing to do with being an astronaut, a professional wrestler, or an electrician (sure had fun, though). I then eventually enrolled in the BA program at the University of Alberta, majoring in history and political science.
Having helped candidates in elections in Manitoba here and there since I was 14, I discovered that I had a deep affection for both.
By the time I was nearing the end of my undergraduate degree, I realized that I truly loved history and thought I might want to pursue an academic career. I took a year off (more fun), then obtained a master’s degree in that discipline from the University of Alberta. I applied and was subsequently accepted into the PhD program in Ukrainian history at the University of Toronto. “I’m on my way to that dream job now,” I thought.
Not so fast.
In their acceptance letter, the University of Toronto bluntly informed me that they had no scholarship or bursary money available for me and that I was unlikely to secure a job in my field anyway, so I’d better think long and hard whether I really wanted to go that route.
Didn’t have to think too long and hard about it at all. Let’s continue to see what Alberta has to offer.
Actually working as a historian – and loving it
I was fortunate enough to secure a contract position as a public historian in what was then known as Alberta Culture and Multiculturalism. I conducted extensive research for the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village open-air museum outside Edmonton, AB, and a comprehensive survey of all remaining Ukrainian churches in east-central Alberta. They utilized all this — and continue to do so, which is very gratifying — to help portray Ukrainian pioneer life in that region.
I absolutely loved it and did it for about three and a half years. Alas, though, it wasn’t steady and paid quite poorly, so I found myself having to move on to other things. Which is a shame because I think I would have enjoyed doing that kind of work for the rest of my employed days. I could envision being a public historian. Definitely would have been a dream job.
But it didn’t pay the bills
After moving on from my contract work with Alberta Culture and Multiculturalism, I worked as a financial advisor for 11 years, during which I completed a substantial amount of coursework that led to a professional designation. For various reasons, I also moved on from that, having sold my book of business and accepted a severance package in the process.
It was an interesting career, and I certainly learned a lot, but doling out financial advice and selling investments was a means to an income rather than something I wanted to be in the way I wanted to be a historian.
At 42, it took me a while to figure out what to do next, as age was starting to limit my options. But I needed to work, so guess what came out of storage once again. Yep, it was the electrical tools. I did electrical work for a couple of years, although I never considered myself an electrician since I never obtained my license. But it paid the bills and I enjoyed rekindling an interest I’d had since I was a child.
On to my last career
Eventually, for various reasons, I decided on a career in property appraisal, which also involved completing several courses that led to a senior professional designation. I did that for 20 years, first in Alberta, where I owned my own appraisal firm, and then in New Brunswick, where I worked for the provincial government, retiring a couple of years ago.
Like financial services, this was an interesting career – in fact, a very good one for several reasons, including the fact that I published an occasionally best-selling book in its wake – but it never defined me in a way that being a historian, whether academic or public, would have.
How many of us end up doing what we truly love? And how many of us end up settling for what we have to do to make a living? I was fortunate in some ways, having had more than one career, as I learned things that I might not have otherwise had the chance to learn. But I still settled.
I’m thrilled to be where I am in the “last quarter” of my life, doing my post-65 dream job of writing, but I’ll always wonder what my life might have been like if I’d gotten to do something I truly loved and be someone I profoundly wanted to be all the way through.