Over the past few weeks, I’ve talked to many seniors about what they are doing post-graduation. Most of them have either secured jobs or places in grad school, but there are a good number who don’t have any concrete plans. The latter group seems pretty worried. “I feel really behind,” “I just really want a job. Any job will do!” and “I feel so confused because I don’t know what I want to do with my life” are common remarks that these seniors make.
The anxiety they express, I believe, is a function of a larger question that all graduating seniors subconsciously ask themselves: Am I going to be successful?
This issue of success brings me back to an incident involving a live grenade.
A year and a half ago, I read about a young 2nd Lt. Kok Khew Fai who was overseeing the safety of 50 recruits during a live hand grenade throw in Singapore. Kok stood a short distance away from the recruits as, one by one, they took turns lobbing a live grenade toward the target. As one of the recruits attempted to fling the grenade forward, it slipped out of his hand and landed 10 feet behind him. He stood motionless, in complete shock that death might literally be seconds away.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Kok jumped on the recruit and forced him to lie prone behind a low wall at the back of the throwing bay. The grenade detonated a few seconds later, and fortunately both of them escaped unharmed.
When I read this news report, I imagined what I would do if I was in Kok’s position. Military service for male citizens is mandatory in Singapore and I, too, was once a young second lieutenant, so I could have been faced with the same situation. The human survivalist instinct would tell you to run—you can cover a lot of distance in six seconds if your life depends on it—take cover and save yourself, yet as an officer who has a responsibility to your men, you know what you ought to do. With so much on the line but with absolutely no time to think, would I have put the safety of my recruit above that of my own? I wish I could confidently say yes, but the more truthful answer is that I really don’t know.
I’m not 100 percent positive that I would be ready to handle such exceptional circumstances, even though I try to constantly remind myself that it’s in the ordinary tests of day-to-day living that we prepare ourselves for extraordinary challenges.
In thinking about this incident, I asked myself what I would give up to guarantee that I would have the bravery to act the same way Kok did. I realized I would consider myself more successful if I had such courage, than if I was a well-respected millionaire who did not. Even though I often judge myself by things I can quantify—grades, titles, performance—on a deeper level it’s intangibles like character and morality that matter much more to me.
Coming back to graduating seniors’ desire to succeed beyond college, I believe that the world has a very narrow definition of success. People like Mother Teresa, Steve Jobs and LeBron James are considered accomplished in their respective fields. But even if we tried our very best, few—if any—of us could ever be as compassionate and loving as Mother Teresa, be as visionary and creative as Steve Jobs or possess the athletic prowess of LeBron James. Therefore, if we allow society to define success for us, and in so doing seek the applause of the world, we essentially place our happiness in the hands of others—a majority of whom probably don’t care at all about us apart from what we can do for them.
We need to spell out exactly what success means to us, rather than let others dictate it. Do you associate success with money, influence, power, relationships, service or knowledge? Whatever you decide on—and cliché as it may sound—I truly believe that success is a journey. It’s not a destination you reach when you’ve attained a critical net worth or even positively influenced a certain number of lives; it’s a journey of constantly growing and contributing, of coming closer to realizing the vision of who you want to be, not just what you want to do.
In closing, I’ve heard a saying that goes, “Many succeed momentarily by what they know; some succeed temporarily by what they do; few succeed permanently by what they are.”
To all the graduating seniors, I wish you the best in your careers, family life and beyond. May you accumulate great knowledge and accomplish great things, but above all may you attain enduring success by becoming a truly great person.
Daniel Wong is a Pratt junior. This is his final column of the semester.
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