I hate “the maybes.”

Often like the blistering cold days we experience here in Syracuse, there seems to be an infinite amount of them. “The maybes” are consuming and frustrating.

And they are extremely relevant to our generation.

We say to ourselves, “With this economy, maybe I’ll get a job after college,” “Maybe the random hookups will someday end,” “Maybe this small yet innovative tech idea will turn into an app, maybe an app that will turn into the next big thing.”

We are faced with a depressed economy, a romantic culture hindered by hookups, a digital revolution, and acts of terrorism and violence that have marred our hope in humanity.

After the explosion at the Boston Marathon, I said to myself, “Maybe the violence will someday end.” What more could I do than put out such a hopeful yet indefinite statement about the horrid acts of humanity we have encountered in the past year from Sept. 11 to Sandy Hook?

As a generation, we have become used to uncertainty.

I think back to my college admissions process and what a dreadful time it was. The past decade has highlighted the nasty and bitterly competitive process as applications increase, but the number of acceptances shrink.

Before I gave myself an ulcer, I had to put “the maybes” aside. I had to accept that my fate was in the hands of an admissions officer tucked away in the corner office of a three-story building — at least, that’s the picture I painted in my head.

Maybe I would get into Syracuse University, maybe I wouldn’t.

Fast-forward to today. I have successfully overcome the anxiety-inducing application that shall not be named — The Common Application. I survived the self-questioning and doubt, yet I am still putting my future in the terms of “perhaps,” “potentially” and “maybe.”

Of course, I now try to be optimistic, despite my inclination not to be.

As a magazine journalism major, I am facing uncertainty in my chosen profession as the journalism business model evolves. But like most journalism majors, I am taking a risk for what I am passionate about.

In order to remain sane, I have reversed the negative “maybes” surrounding my field, such as “Maybe I am entering into a dying profession” and “Maybe there won’t be many writing opportunities when I graduate.”

I make myself shut down any doubtful thoughts. If I didn’t, I would be running around with a crazed expression, simply because I am unable to determine what is yet to come.

Of course, “the maybes” are socially focused, as well. How many times have we asked ourselves — a generation in which random hookups often precede common conversation — when we will find love?

“Maybe this guy has potential,” we tell ourselves one day. The next, we fill ourselves with doubt and immediately write him off, crippling any chance with him.

But like the revival of hope we feel in humanity when a community unites following a tragedy, or when we get into our dream school, we need to continue to take a leap of faith and hope good will triumph over bad.

As someone who once chose the “I Can’t Keep Calm, I Have Anxiety” phone background, as opposed to the annoying “Keep Calm and Carry On,” I can attest how difficult it is to remove “the maybes” and doubt from the front of my mind.

But in taking a chance with a potentially risky opportunity or relationship, we could discover that those “maybes,” once comparable to miserable, cloudy days in Syracuse, are more like the beautiful spring days we have been experiencing. They’re rare, but filled with promise.

Anna Hodge is a freshman magazine journalism major. Her column appears weekly. She can be reached at [email protected] and followed on Twitter at @annabhodge.

Published on April 25, 2013 at 2:06 am