Dear Reader,
We all have moments in life when we face decisions that could change our life's path forever. One of mine came as I entered my junior year in college. In high school, a proficiency in math had earned me several hours of college credit, a fascinating summer job, and even a television appearance on an academic quiz show. So after receiving an Economics Department scholarship to continue studies in that field in my sophomore year, you'd think declaring a major would be easy, right? Um, not so much.
You see, during those first semesters of general studies, I had taken several courses in American history and had fallen in love with the discipline. I wanted to change my major, but knew how much this would disappoint my very practical parents, who expected me to follow a path in business. I kept visualizing the moment: "How is he ever going to feed himself?" my mother would cry out before her limp body collapsed into dad's waiting arms. Of course it's in moments like these that we look to people we respect most for advice.
For me, that was my advisor, Dr. Small. During one of our talks, Dr. Small offered this advice: "Go read Robert Frost's poem The Road Not Taken. I think it will give you the answer you're looking for."
After reading the poem, and – like many people – believing its protagonist had endorsed taking the less obvious path in life when he faced that famous fork in the road, my decision became clear: I immediately changed my major to history and informed my parents. (For the record, my dad wasn't quick enough to catch mom – he had to pick her up off the ground, post-swoon.)
A few years later, after I had received an advanced degree in history and began teaching in the discipline, I thanked Dr. Small for giving me the courage to take "the road less traveled," and switch majors.
"I never told you to do that," Dr. Small responded.
"What?" I stammered. "But what about the road less traveled; YOU essentially told me to take the risky history path, not the safe business one." I pleaded with him, needing reassurance that I hadn't made such a significant life choice based on a misunderstanding. "Remember the sigh of contentment at the end of the poem?"
"Larry, I always tell indecisive kids to read that poem because it's so ambiguous. I would never
tell
you what to do." Dr. Small explained. "Maybe the road less traveled was actually a bad choice and that sigh was one of regret?"
"Interesting," was my response. But what I really wanted to say was: "Listen buddy, when you make a decision of such consequence, you want clear signs. And despite being years removed and generally happy, I'm now not so sure that I made the right choice. In fact, give me your advisor card. I will not let future undergraduates be misled as I've been."
But don’t worry, SAS Training Report readers, we won’t lead you astray. In this issue, you’ll learn more about SAS Learning Paths, which provide a course-by-course roadmap of SAS training by job role. Our easy-to-use paths provide guidance on what courses to take, and in what order to take them, so you can feel confident, whatever path you choose.
Here's to straight paths and happy training,
Larry LaRusso
Editor, SAS Training Report