This Saturday, hundreds of students from Columbia and thousands more around the country will be taking the LSAT. Until a few days ago, I was scheduled to be one of them.
I never dreamed that I would doubt my plan to go to law school immediately after college. From the moment I began determining my first set of classes freshman year, I was charting a pre-law course. I chose classes with law school in the back of my mind, and I signed up at the activities fair for all the typical resume-boosters—Pre-Law Society, College Democrats, Mock Trial. I put myself in a one-track mind-set to get into a top-tier law school.
I was on my way to the inaugural meeting of the Columbia Journal of Politics and Society a few days into freshman year when I stumbled into the wrong room on the fourth floor of Hamilton. “Are you here to audition for Merchant of Venice?” an animated girl managing the audition room asked in my direction. For no particular reason at all, I decided to audition—and ended up experiencing my first show with the King’s Crown Shakespeare Troupe. I have since done shows with KCST every semester and am now the group’s president. Not only does theater now define my life at Columbia, but I am also considering pursuing a career in Shakespearean drama. In other words, accidentally walking into that audition room freshman year—and not immediately walking out, for that matter—quite literally changed the direction of my life.
These kinds of chance occurrences occur throughout the college career. It is when we have the courage to take a risk and try them out that they become most meaningful and have the most potential to take our lives in a positive new direction.
Taking risks is a necessary part of finding new paths. Luck will always be a part of the equation, there’s no doubt about it—finding yourself in the right place at the right time is often crucial to finding the right risks to take. But it is when we indulge these lucky occurrences rather than shy away from them that we find opportunities that might not have otherwise arisen.
Of course, it’s not that easy. People are risk-averse by nature. Risks have two opposing elements—what one stands to gain, and what one stands to lose. Those whom we might call “risk-takers” are the ones who have the capacity to overcome the fear of the latter—in other words, the riskier among us are not overcome by the possibility that they will not get their preferred outcomes. Those more averse to risk, though, are the ones paralyzed by the negative consequences, choosing not to act because of what might even be a slight possibility that things will turn out poorly.
From a mathematical viewpoint, one must start by weighing the possible outcomes of taking a risk against one another. If the possible positive outcome outweighs the possible negative outcome, then one should go for it (at this point, I imagine the econ majors reading this column are laughing about rather simplistic exposition of what would probably be considered cost-benefit analysis).
As far as the risks most of us take on a daily basis, however, it should be noted that the possible negative outcomes are usually pretty minor. With auditioning, for example, what do you have to lose—not getting a part and a few minutes of slight humiliation? Risk and chance don’t just apply to life-altering decisions. Sure, some are life-altering—like whether to turn down a steady job after college to pursue a career in dance—but not all are, especially while we’re still in school.
That’s not to say that the risks we take are insignificant. Think about how crucial chance occurrences are when it comes to something as common as relationships. Whether we choose to act on little crushes can often make major determinations in the direction of our college love lives. Personally speaking, had I not mentioned my feelings to a girl I had a crush on almost three years ago, I might have missed out on one of the most meaningful relationships of my college career—certainly, it ended up being worth the risk.
The smallest changes to the order of our lives can have effects of the greatest magnitude. Sure, it sounds like a bad episode of The Twilight Zone, or maybe a little like The Butterfly Effect—but really, how often do we stop to realize the significance of seemingly unimportant chance occurrences? Had you not gone to that party that night, would you have ever met that girl who you ended up dating for eight months? Had you not taken that class, would you have gotten the recommendation from that professor who ended up playing a crucial role in getting you into grad school? These little things are all around us, but it’s rare that we take the time to notice them.
Here’s what I’m saying—notice them. Stop every once in a while and take note of the kinds of things I’m talking about. And if you happen to accidentally stumble into the wrong class—or, even better, the wrong audition room—don’t just turn around and walk out. Recognizing these moments is the first step, but indulging them will take you even farther. It’s the very nature of risk—not knowing what the outcome will be—that makes it exciting. Take risks, act on chance occurrences, and live life to the fullest. Who knows? You might just wind up avoiding law school after all.
Dan Blank is a Columbia College senior majoring in political science.
That Is the Question runs alternate Wednesdays.
Opinion@columbiaspectator.com
