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FeaturesMarch 5, 2003

Tuesday marked the 3,519th career day in my professional career. If I'm exaggerating, it's only slightly. Near the beginning of every calendar year -- as sure as the snowfall and the resulting crazed rush on bread and milk at Cape Girardeau grocery stores -- every school in Southeast Missouri has a career day. This is an event where hundreds of students already bored out of their skulls by simply being in school pass into a near-coma when forced to listen to adults talk about their jobs...

Tuesday marked the 3,519th career day in my professional career. If I'm exaggerating, it's only slightly.

Near the beginning of every calendar year -- as sure as the snowfall and the resulting crazed rush on bread and milk at Cape Girardeau grocery stores -- every school in Southeast Missouri has a career day. This is an event where hundreds of students already bored out of their skulls by simply being in school pass into a near-coma when forced to listen to adults talk about their jobs.

Oh, there are always a few invited speakers who put the rest of us boring people to shame, such as the National Guard soldier who came to Chaffee High School's FBLA Career Day in full uniform on Tuesday.

By way of a little background, the FBLA teens were putting on a career day for fifth- and sixth-graders in the elementary school, which is a thoughtful project. The 10 volunteers speaking about their careers were spread throughout the gymnasium, and the kids switched in little groups from one to another every 15 minutes.

The soldier's section was a ways down from mine, but I could see that dapper lieutenant showing the kids military stuff -- everything except the weapons.

The athletic trainer was taking them through some exercises.

The veterinarian was talking about working with fuzzy little sick animals that need help.

Meanwhile, I was holding up a newspaper. Guess what interests elementary school kids more?

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Maybe if the front-page, main headline had been "Justin Timberlake giving away free CDs today at Cape Girardeau Wal-Mart," I would have had their attention.

But frankly, it's tough to explain anything interesting to children about journalism and keep the conversation G-rated. I mean, they don't exactly care that I've discussed vouchers with the president's brother, even though I've whipped that tidbit out at a cocktail party or two.

Not to say all of the kids were uninterested, but consider what some of them told me they wanted to do when they grew up: veterinarian, basketball player, football player, teacher, astronaut, pediatrician, artist, singer, pilot and, my personal favorite, daredevil. (Speaking of which, Jesse, the would-be daredevil, asked me to put a quote from him in the newspaper. So, without further ado, "WWwhhhaaazzuuupp?")

You'll never hear anyone under the age of 13 say they want to be an accountant, a podiatrist, a stockbroker, a systems analyst, a book editor, a civil engineer, a restaurant owner, a towboat captain, an architect or a social worker, but all of those are legitimate, rewarding jobs.

Things are a little better with teenagers. They're staring down the barrel at college and a career, so most of them are narrowing things down a bit.

Take my career path. In 1975, when I was 5 years old, I fully intended to be a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader and already owned the appropriate pom-pons. By 1977, that goal had been revised to belly dancer, an idea spawned by the gift of a gauzy dress-up skirt from a neighbor. By 1980, I was pretty much settled on a singing career. By 1982, I'd decided to write the Great American Novel. In 1985, I wanted to be a businesswoman, but I didn't know in what business. By 1987, I was a working journalist.

And all the career days I attended didn't influence me at all.

I'm still going to Notre Dame's next week, though.

Heidi Hall is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.

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