It’s hard to admit because it’s an identity I’ve carried with me for over twenty years, but I’m not a scientist. I understand now that it’s possible to find passion in something without it needing to be your entire identity or career. I will always find joy in science – understanding the intricacies and complexities of the natural world – but I have come to the realisation that it’s not the right place for me as a student or an employee.
Not long after starting school, my teachers noticed I had an aptitude for science and mathematics. I also had an aptitude for languages, but this wasn’t given as much weight as the STEM subjects I showed promise in. I remember being only about seven years old, still in infants school, being told by my teachers and parents that one day I’d study somewhere like Oxford or Cambridge and become a doctor or a research scientist. Something intellectually impressive, something I realise they said because it would make them look good. It was never really about me, but over the years “scientist” became an integral part of my identity. I felt a little jealous when I’d see others be good at science, because they always had other talents too and science was supposed to be my thing.
As a child, my only real hobby was reading. I’d sit in the library and read encyclopaedias during lunch, I’d read and reread series like A Series of Unfortunate Events and The Chronicles of Narnia. I loved escaping into a good piece of fiction, but I loved to learn through non-fiction too. I enjoyed reading about science, but I enjoyed learning about history, art and literature arguably a lot more. I would race home to watch Horrible Histories and took extensive notes whilst watching documentaries about authors like C.S. Lewis.
Once I started secondary school and had a wider range of subjects on the table, I developed interests in literature, drama and religion. People rarely actually said it out loud, but I always felt a sense of derision from my family and my teachers when I found passion and joy in something more creative.
I was always told that science was better than the humanities. Studying arts and humanities was a waste, not just of my money but my skills and talents. I fell victim to the “STEM vs Arts/Humanities” dichotomy. I saw quickly that with studying STEM came a sense of superiority – someone who got straight As in science was somehow “better” than someone who got straight As in humanities.
Despite my intense curiosity and passion for learning, I couldn’t commit to a career. It’s difficult to decide on a career as an adult, let alone as a child who has yet to experience the full range of what the world can offer, but I felt like I could only consider science-related careers. For a long time I wanted to be a doctor, but with adult hindsight that was largely because I felt it would impress the people I longed for some approval from. I am a living lesson to parents and teachers on the negative impact of only giving academic validation. I only ever received positive attention and praise when I performed well in school, and I got even more of it when I excelled in STEM subjects.
By the time I left school, I had chosen to study astrophysics. University was, and always had been, my escape plan – a way out of a childhood that had been defined by years of trauma and suicidal ideation. I struggled to settle in, and wondered if I’d chosen the wrong course. It felt like it had been chosen for me – no one had a gun to my head telling me I absolutely had to study physics, but it was the unspoken message that made it so hard for me to stand up for myself and my own dreams, goals and interests.
So on a whim, I changed course and began studying zoology. When looking through the course directory, I felt drawn to courses like classics, English literature and film studies, but I still had the voices of my parents and former teachers in the back of my head telling me it was the wrong choice. Zoology was interesting and I managed to graduate with a 2:1 degree despite never really attending anything, but there was always something missing. I never had that sense of fulfilment that I was doing the right thing for me.
I always liked that science was a little less abstract, the answers a little more concrete. I never felt confident with my own interpretations and analyses. I wanted to get things right, and it felt like a gamble in the arts and humanities, where instead of solving an equation with only one or two answers, I had an open-ended question and a lack of confidence in my own ideas. Science feels like my comfort zone, but the longer we spend in our comfort zones, the smaller they become. It’s more important than ever for me that I start to experience life outside of my comfort zone. There is no growth without a little bit of discomfort.
My brain’s way of thinking and processing information is far more aligned with humanities and creative disciplines. I want to write and analyse literature, curate museum exhibitions, learn about art and history, speak modern languages and understand the classics. My interests have always lay more in the arts and humanities – science was work, but humanities were hobbies. I think back to some of the moments in my childhood where I found myself completely engrossed in what I was learning – my first few Latin classes, where I saw so clearly how it had influenced our modern version of English and its influence on the other languages I studied, learning about the beginnings of the Church of England and being in awe at how one decision centuries ago led to the religious landscape in the UK following a completely different route, listening to Danse Macabre in a year seven music class and feeling something awaken inside of me at how beautiful and lifelike instruments can sound when they’re combined in an orchestra… I had these moments in science class too, but it never felt quite as intense as it did in my language, literature and music classes.
I hate how we diminish the value of the arts – life would become incredibly boring without them. It’s important that we have scientists, but it’s also important that we have creatives. Both have value to individuals and wider society, it’s just that the value of the arts isn’t always as obvious or financially tangible.
It is not a waste of my skills and talents to pursue study and work within the arts. I don’t regret studying STEM, because I still do enjoy it, but what I do regret is that I unknowingly let people who did not care about me or my future decide so early on what I would do. I am still young, but at twenty-seven years old I have so many regrets that largely come down to not feeling in control of my own life and not having enough confidence to stand up for myself and make decisions I know are right for me. Science is incredible, but I am not a scientist. And I’m finally making peace with that.