Many of us are familiar with the inspirational poster that lines the walls of classrooms and offices—a sepia-toned photograph depicting a boat floating on a lake sits above the slogan ""Success is a journey, not a destination."" However, despite the ubiquity of this saying, this motto seems to be merely that—a saying.
In our culture, we do not value the journey—that is too abstract and intangible a concept for our materialistic society that demands instant gratification. Instead, the destination is considered more important. As the incomparable Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, the counselor on ""Shalom in the Home,"" always says, success in the United States is defined by money and fame.
This is the time of year in which graduating college students are facing their future, and of course every student graduates with the goal of becoming successful. However, America's narrow definition of success may leave many college students feeling hopeless or intimidated—particularly those graduating with a liberal arts degree who face an unfulfilling job market that undervalues an education in the humanities.
Because many college students have pursued their interests and graduated with a degree that does not easily lend itself to either money or fame, they may already be sharing the feelings of insignificance and unimportance that pervades most of the United States.
Since one is only successful in this country if they are Donald Trump or Tom Cruise, many Americans feel invisible and insignificant, especially since we've been conditioned to be successful since childhood.
This emptiness and feeling of inferiority can be seen in our obsession with celebrities—perhaps if we had a more realistic definition of success based on character instead of materialism, so many Americans wouldn't be clamoring to get on reality TV shows. Paris Hilton's celebrity status epitomizes the fact that worthiness is no longer defined by hard work, talent or good deeds.
Americans are going through an identity crisis because of this narrow and exclusive definition of success. As Rabbi Shmuley points out, people are no longer satisfied with working hard, supporting their families or living a normal life, but instead yearn for wealth and fame.
If so many Americans are discontent, it only seems natural for us to change our definition of success. However, one of the hardest things to do is to follow an independent path not recognized as worthy.
Perhaps this graduating class should help redefine success. Instead of valuing money, we should value those who are courageous enough to give up a hefty paycheck in exchange for making a difference in the world, such as social workers or Peace Corps volunteers.
If we don't change our attitudes, perhaps we will start seeing a decline in interest in these necessary jobs, as we have seen with nursing. Though there are many reasons for this disinterest in nursing, an important factor is certainly the lack of appreciation and recognition nurses receive.
Furthermore, maybe it is time that we truly start valuing the journey rather than the destination. For instance, a liberal arts major working at Borders will have an opportunity to add to their knowledge and experience of humanity. In turn, people who learn to slow down and observe what is around them, instead of competing for the next promotion or pay raise, will enrich society with their knowledge.
No matter what one's major, be it business or art history, graduates should leave college focused on learning and gaining experience, rather than immediately gaining wealth and recognition. Instead of only taking from society, graduates should do something to contribute to it.
There is another slogan that Americans like to throw around: Money can't buy happiness. Perhaps this spring's graduating class should actually take this proverb to heart.
