[20] Jack of Many Trades.

An Op-Ed that unravels the age-old adage — “A jack of all trades is a master of none” — through a lens of competition, fulfillment, arrogance, and validation. 

A jack of all trades is supposedly a master of none. An adage shines brightest during times of strife, and yet this cautionary instruction has served me so well because I’ve spent the past few years acting against it. 

1 I COULD’VE BEEN ON TRACK TO BE WILL HUNTING

A distinct detail I tether to my studies in Busan has to do with competitiveness. It felt as though I was thrust into an environment that favored bold betrayal and stubborn scorn — I was often pitted against peers in favor of some reward, some resume. 

Choate sobered me because it became very evident immediately that it would be a struggle to be the very best in any given subject. This was, probably, the most severe (and, perhaps, the sole) case of culture shock in the approach to education. 

Students here had dedicated fractions of their lives to two, maybe three, trades that they sought to nurture under the guidance of Choate. The specialized specificity in which they pursued came at the cost of falling short in other fields — most surprising was that these peers embraced this tradeoff, that they were passionate and proud of what they pursued. 

The abandoned activities that populated my childhood stung me strong. I wish I had stuck with a sport, stuck with a subject, stuck with a singularity back when I had not only the time to build a foundation in something that (hopefully) I’d learn to love but also to have my upbringing influenced by what these sidelines had to offer me. 

It’s as such that I possess such an interesting relationship with mathematics. The education I received at the cost of private tutors and prepubescent tears was worth the foundation and freedom that excelling in one subject could grant. And yet, math is perhaps the greatest missed opportunity of my life because, throughout the near decade of math that I’ve engaged in, I failed to find a love for the subject. Sure, there were times back when unraveling tedious arithmetic and overtaking a curriculum fueled me — but, then again, math never evolved beyond something I was good at (and had invested far too much into) and into something that I wanted to pursue because I loved what it had to offer me. 

2 LIVING SOMEONE ELSE’S DREAM

Offer me. I’ve partaken in a fair share of odd competitions, all of which I’m glad to have taken a part in, but near none that have lasted with me beyond the glory of gazing upon a trophy or a medal or a certificate. Whether it was attempting to imitate individuals of inspiration or fearing falling short of the precedent set by my peers, I found myself struggling to find my footing and to find any fondness for which I pursued — I was pursuing the passions of my peers. 

A watershed moment in the course of my life was finding the privilege to pivot — to deny the fallacy of sunk costs. But, then again, I refused to let my toil go to waste — I sought for ventures that would soak up the time, and the turmoil that were (now) up for grabs. The checklist for which I’d pursue was simple — to find not for fame or for fortune, but for fulfillment. 

3 THE JACK’S BACK…

It’s been freeing to choose the pursuits I aspire for. I think a large reason why junior year shines so bright amidst my memory is that I had, for the first time in my life, accumulated a collection of interests that charmed me countless. I helmed with great pride the title of being a jack of not all, but many trades. 

4 …BUT ONLY FOR A PARAGRAPH

And yet as if it’s called upon by neuroplasticity or destined fate, I crave once more the scent of validation. No, my pursuits do not seek the validation of others. Instead, I’ve begun to lose faith in the splendor in which I pursue — I seek validation not to fuel my pursuits, but to fuel the faith that what brings me joy isn’t jejune. 

I’ve long reveled in the (supposedly) pompous purpose I’d self-assigned to my pursuits, only to fall out of love with what once I was proud to be defined by — afflicted amidst anticipation, broken by being bested, confounded by controversy, disheartened by disappointments. 

In moments of uncertainty, I’ve grappled with giving up pursuits that no longer grant me the same dose of fulfillment — the strife involved in the progress of my pursuits startled me because I had (in my hubris that I was exempt from the quota of obstacles that God has to meet) assumed I was prepared enough, pride enough, passionate enough to brave misfortune. 

I console and coddle myself because this jack is justified in feeling he has too much on his plate. But, then again, I chastise myself and chastise further for contemplating giving up so curtly and (even worse) so covertly under the guise of “pivoting.” And I harbor nothing but chagrin that I let the value of my work be determined (in part) by the perceptions of the public — most notably, the perceived interest or impressiveness that others claim to find in my work.

5 THE MASTER OF ONE

A lesson only becomes truly engraved within your soul when it’s learned of your own volition. Perhaps the jack of all trades deserves his exile — and the masters of one make a compelling argument. 

Arrogance is societally shunned, but it’s something that I’ve privately admired. The audacity to belittle your peers in full confidence that your talent, your repertoire will back you up is one of utter astonishment to me — it’s most common amongst people whose professions lie within the realm of human expression, athletic or artistic. 

And though they may have diversified their portfolios, their careers were built from their capability to be a master of one and a magnificent one at that. As I soak in the shadows of success boasted by these beasts, it becomes clear that clocktime and circumstance have been kind to the “jack of all trades” adage — I’ve grown more amenable to the option of straying further from being a jack of so many trades. In my (return-to-zero) craving for some validation (that what I’m doing is worthwhile), I pressure myself to discover some pursuit that could pan out to being publicly prized. And a trophy never hurt no one. 

6 BUT FOUR OF A KIND JACKS PREVAIL

But I’m stubborn out of fear that, without my many trades, I wouldn’t be prepared for a shift of the status quo and out of pride for the many trades I possess. Perhaps it’s the protection of being an adolescent that permits me to possess many a trade — a veil of protection that might fizzle once I’m forced to risk falling out of love with a pursuit when I choose to specialize in it as a job. 

But, until then, I think I’ll hold onto my pair of jacks and hope the flop, turn, river comforts me that I’d been right to endure — a comfort that it as right for me to seek fulfillment, not fortune.