My first job after college was as an English and Drama teacher at a small private school in Maryland.  I studied theatre (yep, of the -re variety) at Syracuse University, and I knew I'd need to come home, get a job and save money before making The Big Move to New York.  For a long time,  I wanted to be a writer, but I allowed a college counselor to convince me that the only way my magna-cum-laude-high-school-grades-with-several-AP-credits-and-some-very-mediocre-SAT-scores would matriculate was through performance; at that time, I'd been a professional actor for a good portion of my life  and this college counselor was an authority, so I believed her. 

​So I auditioned and was offered acceptance into a program and my "I want to be a writer" became "I want to be an actor", which upon graduation morphed into "I'm a teacher because I need to make a living".  With no formal education in... well.. educating, I relied on my mentor, my quick wit and the obliviousness that comes with what I didn't know to get me through.

Since then, I've worked in event planning, I've sold books at a now defunct chain, I've served civilly and I've consulted. 

All along the way, no one asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.  This question is core to childhood.  My nieces and nephews respond with glee with about their career plans (an astronaut librarian!  an imagination expert/super hero/fireman, a ballerina!).  Until very recently, I'd sit across from them and marvel at their limitless aspirations with jealousy.