By: Marie Jen Galilo, Staff Writer
Before starting university, my peers and I started planning our careers. Everyone around me had such big dreams — my friends wanted to be doctors, lawyers, or engineers. Having always cared about my grades and academic success, my teachers, friends, and family would comment on how I would likely establish a respectable career that reflected my intellect. I felt compelled to choose a career path which reflected my efforts and fit their expectations. Another factor for me was family — as the daughter of immigrant parents who left their homes, careers, and loved ones behind, I felt pressured to establish a career that honoured their sacrifices in their hopes of giving me a better future.
I loved subjects in the arts because they allowed for the intermingling of creative and analytical thoughts, but I also liked learning about topics in the sciences. While I did well in subjects across the board, my family and peers saw me as someone who particularly excelled in social sciences. In my social circle, becoming a lawyer was perceived as the main “respectable career,” so I pushed my interest in science aside, and decided I was going to pursue an arts degree to eventually become a lawyer.
Because SFU’s breadth requirements include a certain number of science units, I thought, why not try taking a biology course to fulfill that? In this course, I found myself looking forward to lectures, enveloping my brain in learning about cellular processes and animal physiology. I started to consider the possibility of transferring to the faculty of science and majoring in biological sciences because it sparked my interest like no other subject. In biology, you’re taught the basics, given a problem, and asked to piece your knowledge together using creativity to come up with logical solutions. It’s truly rewarding when you understand the course concepts, and are able to apply that knowledge.
Bringing up the topic of transferring faculties and switching my major when I was going into my second year wasn’t an easy conversation to have with my family because it seemed like a big jump from my pre-law trajectory.
Their hesitation became intertwined with my own. I couldn’t help but feel like I had let people down. Deep down, I knew I had chosen the pre-law path because I thought it represented my potential.
It took a lot of courage to break out of the box I had placed myself in with walls that had been reinforced by the opinions of people who mattered most to me.
A 2025 study examining the developmental histories of top-level performers in various areas found that those who explored a variety of disciplines early in life were more successful than those who quickly specialized, in fields including science, music, sports, and chess. This challenges the long-held idea that those who want to succeed should narrow their efforts, instead suggesting the importance of exploring and embracing different opportunities. For instance, Dr. Harold Varmus, who obtained a degree in English literature, went on to become a medical doctor and scientist. “There is still time to make decisions about the way you are going to conduct your careers,” said Varmus on the iBiology Science Stories podcast. Varmus addressed the perceived gap between the arts and sciences, saying that “not every scientist is a math whiz” and “there are lots of ways to become a scientist.”
I realized I didn’t need to choose between my interests, choosing to major in biological sciences and minor in English to fuse my interests in science, writing, and literary analysis. I initially kept the transition from arts to science a secret because I was experiencing imposter syndrome. Imposter syndrome is defined as feeling unworthy of successes despite your efforts and achievements, and is accompanied by the fear that you’ll eventually be seen as a fraud. Even though I was studying for hours on end and did well in my classes while being involved in extracurriculars, I downplayed my achievements and viewed them as a result of chance rather than my capabilities. I had always been perceived as an arts person, and I felt like people would perceive me as trying to change who I was by going into science.
There’s also a divide between the arts and sciences — in my experience, you rarely see a science major with an arts minor or vice versa. In my English courses, I felt like the elephant in the room, often being the only biology major in a room full of arts majors. In science courses filled with pre-meds, minoring in English seemed like a random decision. I’d often get asked, “Why?” or, “What’s the point in that?” But it was not a random decision for me — minoring in English was a way of letting the part of me that loved the arts live on.
Navigating my academic journey was accompanied by stress, exhaustion, self-doubt, and burnout. Despite these challenges, there was a lot of growth. I’m learning to accept that we’re all on our own journeys of self discovery, and there’s no single cookie-cutter pathway. I’ve developed a stronger sense of personal autonomy in making this decision. It’s given me a sense of purpose; I’ve chosen to get involved in my community and pursue a career with a focus on health-care and writing. My family’s hesitancy was replaced by support after seeing me excel in my passion. They’re now far more understanding of how they can be my strongest support system in this new field, which was different from the field they had initially imagined. I’m also learning to break away from imposter syndrome and be more compassionate towards myself, reframing my mindset to view my achievements as results of my capabilities rather than pure luck.
If you’ve ever experienced feelings of imposter syndrome, I hope you know that you do not need to prove your “worth” to anyone. You’re enough as you are, and you can give yourself the credit for everything you’ve achieved and everything that you’re going to achieve as you pave your own path at SFU and beyond.
