One Major’s Trash is Another Student’s Treasures

Since the start of the semester, I’ve slept an average of six hours a night — probably way more than my peers. Before coming to Amherst College, I received plenty of advice on the do’s and don’ts of college life. One common theme among these conversations was the necessity of maintaining a “work hard, play hard” mindset. I’m no stranger to the party scene on campus; I’ve attended functions hosted by the Black Student Union, La Causa, and whatever goes on at Jenkins Hall during the weekends. But my lack of sleep isn’t rooted in my mission to become an absolute party animal during my first semester. I’ll focus on that in the spring.

I’ve actually been more locked in during these initial weeks than I have been throughout my entire life. But the irony of my extreme work ethic lies more in the fact that I’m intending to study a “useless major.”

Since college became a goal I’ve had in mind, multiple relatives and high school teachers have sat me down to discuss what I would study over the next four years. I avoid STEM classes like the plague. I’ve never been particularly fond of them, and since I’ve been able to exercise free will, I’ve found love in the humanities and social sciences. However, that open avoidance didn’t stop people from trying to convince me to take a peek into the sciences otherwise. As a first-generation, low-income student, college seems like the last thing I could take for granted. Most people in these communities already believe these degrees offer the most bang for the buck.

That’s not to say that there’s anything wrong with pursuing STEM. In fact, it has become a more common focus across academic spheres in the past decade, even among highly regarded liberal arts schools like Amherst. According to the college’s annual commencement reports, dating back to the Class of 2016, mathematics and economics have consistently appeared among the five most frequently declared majors, and computer science has been on the list since 2020. At the same time, attitudes toward other subjects in academia are growing in the opposite direction. In the words of my older brother, “being a psychology and Black Studies major doesn’t help you chase the bag.” So, since experiencing this conflict between passion and practicality, I’ve had a hard time figuring out the best course of action when considering my declared majors.

Fortunately, I’m very far from being alone in this struggle; it’s more common than most people think. But I don’t think many people sit down and wonder why this is the case.

I think a more important question to ask, then, is: Why are certain college majors deemed unworthy of studying, and why should we care? Objectively, I think this concept has more to do with the return on investment than anything else. Higher Ed Dive also touched on this idea through a study published by Georgetown University’s Center on Education and the Workforce. According to this study, people with STEM bachelor’s degrees reported earning a median income of $98,000 in 2024. Comparatively, people with bachelor’s degrees in the arts and humanities earned median incomes ranging from $58,000 to $73,000 in the same year.

The vast differences between these numbers very simply explain the pressure to choose STEM, but not why we should devalue the learning in these other disciplines.

This “useless degree” rhetoric stems mainly from a growing societal disinterest in the humanities and the arts. As the world shifts toward greater technological advancement, so does the need for specialized workers in these fields, driven by economic and global demand. This also coincides with the growing prevalence of “finance bro” culture on college campuses, which encourages an increasingly pre-professional and detached approach to college, treating it as a stepping stone rather than an opportunity for connective learning. I can confirm that there is value and a rationale behind choosing a “useless” major; it may not be everyone’s goal, and my experience is a good example.

I’ve always had an interest in psychology, and it is definitely seen as the more practical option for my prospective career than anything related to Black Studies. My strong gravitation toward the field is rooted heavily in my inner-city upbringing. I’m from Newark, N.J., a place just 30 minutes from New York, which mirrors much of its cultural diversity. As of July 5, 2025, the United States Census Bureau records that roughly 46% of Newark residents identify themselves as Black or of African descent. Throughout most of my life, I was never considered a minority in most of the spaces I entered. Even with this privilege and security in my identity, my motivation to pursue clinical psychology is directly tied to growing up in a place like Newark. I’ve seen so much stigma in the Black community surrounding mental health and therapy, and I desperately wanted to change that. So I posed a question: Instead of separating these two interests, how can I maximize my reach and impact by engaging with both simultaneously?

This is the thinking that led me to seek out Black Studies as an option. Double-majoring is the least surprising thing a college student could do throughout their four years of undergrad. The beauty of going to a school like Amherst is being able to use the open curriculum to your advantage. Obviously, there are no general education courses, but most people probably end up taking classes related to their major anyway, out of convenience. During new student orientation, I fell victim to the first-semester registration wars and couldn’t register for any psychology courses. I even considered dropping two of my three Black Studies classes, but I unlocked so much more by refusing to do so. So yes, like much of the administration here (I’m falling for the propaganda), I do think you should get weird, wacky, and deep with your majors and education, but in moderation as well.

Realism matters. We should avoid making reckless choices that close doors on our future. But a degree shouldn’t be measured only by what it pays. It should also be measured by how many people you can serve and by the deep passion you’ll find in a career that suits your interests. For me, understanding my Blackness and its history is how I learn to direct my work toward people that systems have labeled “insignificant,” the same way my majors have been labeled “useless.” For others, it may not be as simple or as complicated as what I’ve just said. Nonetheless, it still beckons you to rethink this idea in a whole new light.

As of right now, I have no idea if my career vision will actually land; I’m still not fully sure, and I have the freedom to change my mind, which is the beauty of going to Amherst. One thing I do know is that there are endless possibilities and examples I could draw inspiration from, especially within the realm of Cooper House, the Department of Black Studies’ location at the college. The department’s professors embody the same spirit of academic exploration that the college encourages, creating connections between Black Studies and fields ranging from English and literature to political science and public health. These fields do not exist in isolation; rather, they function as interconnected parts of a larger framework for understanding the world, each offering perspectives that strengthen and complicate the others. These nationally recognized scholars have dedicated themselves to conducting extensive research, publishing their findings, and educating audiences around the world. Their accomplishments demonstrate the intellectual and professional opportunities that emerge when we approach education with curiosity rather than limitation. 

Our research and knowledge become richer when we’re able to connect across disciplines rather than constrain our lives to a single understanding of the world. Without sociology, statistics alone would offer a limited understanding of human society. Without gender studies, our understanding of biological differences in pain across sexes would remain one-dimensional. These often underrepresented disciplines challenge our assumptions about the world around us, encouraging us to look beyond surface-level explanations and to ask questions that cannot be answered by numbers alone. They allow us to examine issues of representation, interrogate overlooked systems, and recognize how histories we might assume have little to do with us continue to shape our lives. These questions may not guarantee a lucrative career, but they are worth asking nonetheless.

Whether or not it’s a lack of sleep or just the general uncertainty of pursuing certain academic spheres with the future in mind, I think that people should be less afraid to explore their interests in “useless majors.” The world has gotten some of the most beautiful art and some of the most important research from things that people either thought were useless or lacked significance. One man’s “trash” is almost always another man's treasure. I’m still a little unsure about my prospective majors, after all, but I’ve learned so much even halfway through the semester, and I could probably tell you all about it, but I’m still a little sleep-deprived, so that can wait a bit.