Rebecca Fuchs ’26 (she/they, they/she) is a junior transfer student prospectively majoring in finance and minoring in environmental science and sustainability at the College. This semester, they’re also an intern for The Flat Hat and are active as a Shadow Analyst for Salesforce in the Mason Investment Club (MIC) as well as with Williamsburg Engagement (WE) at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore. When they’re trying not to fall asleep in class, you can email them at rafuchs@wm.edu.
The views expressed in the article are the author’s own.
“Destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out. But, if you keep an open mind and an open heart, I promise you will find your own destiny someday” – Uncle Iroh to Zuko, from “Avatar: The Last Airbender,” Book 3: Fire, Chapter 11.
Uncle Iroh’s wisdom isn’t just advice for Zuko, it’s guidance for anyone struggling with expectations. Like Zuko, I’ve stood at a crossroads, torn between what others expect and the path I truly want to follow. Growing up with an adoptive single mom — the first in her family to attend college and law school — I’ve always felt pressure to surpass her achievements. I wanted to stand on her shoulders, to reach higher than she ever could. But now, I realize that finding my destiny — like Zuko — means more than meeting expectations. It demands courage to forge my own way.
For a long time, I believed the traditional route was the only way to honor my mother’s sacrifices: a steady career, financial security, a path that seemed “safe” and “successful.” Her plea was simple but heavy: don’t fall into the same cycle of challenges she faced while growing up in Indiana. But eventually, I started to question if this was really my dream or someone else’s.
Zuko’s struggle to gain his father’s approval by chasing “honor” mirrors this conflict. He thought following Fire Lord Ozai’s path would lead to greatness, but he later realized that true honor meant letting go of imposed expectations. Similarly, I wrestled with my sense of duty to my mother’s dreams and the growing realization that the traditional path wasn’t for me.
Zuko’s transformation didn’t happen overnight. It was slow, filled with doubt. He had to redefine what “honor” meant to him. He couldn’t move forward until he embraced his true self.
Like Zuko, I’ve had to look in the mirror and ask myself: “Who am I doing this for?” My moment of clarity came while at Montgomery College, where I initially pursued a pre-law path. I wanted to follow in my mom’s footsteps, but something didn’t feel right. It wasn’t until I switched to business and sustainability that I realized I was chasing someone else’s dream. Much like Mulan’s “Reflection,” where she sings, “Who is that girl I see, staring straight, back at me?” I realized my identity wasn’t tied to others’ expectations but to forging my own path.
One pivotal conversation with my mentor, Alana McCarthy Light, helped me solidify this shift. She had changed her major multiple times and encouraged me to do the same. On the bus to one of her punk shows, I expressed my doubts about quitting pre-law. Alana said, “Dude, you only have one life to live, so make it count and have fun with it.” Her words hit hard. Life is too short to live by someone else’s expectations, and I need to blaze my own trail, just like Zuko had to break free from his father’s shadow.
Zuko’s turning point came during the Day of Black Sun, when he stood up to his father and chose to join Team Avatar. His journey wasn’t perfect — he still made mistakes — but he was no longer bound by someone else’s expectations. I myself had to learn that success isn’t a one-size-fits-all concept. It isn’t always about landing the most lucrative job or following the “expected” path.
As a prospective finance major at the College of William and Mary’s Raymond A. Mason School of Business, I’ve faced pressure to fit into the mold of high finance or consulting. Many students prepare for careers at prestigious firms like Goldman Sachs or JP Morgan. But I’ve always been drawn to public service and making a positive impact. For me, success means using tools like economics and sustainability to solve the world’s most pressing challenges. I’m not just chasing financial success; I’m seeking fulfillment and purpose.
Zuko’s ultimate lesson is that true honor and fulfillment come from being true to yourself. I’ve had to let go of the idea that I need to meet others’ definitions of success. Instead, I’ve embraced the idea that forging my own path, even when it diverges from expectations, is the greatest way to honor both myself and those who’ve supported me.
Reflecting on Zuko’s journey and my own, I’m reminded of Barack Obama’s famous speech where he emphasized the power of hope: “Hope in the face of difficulty, hope in the face of uncertainty, the audacity of hope.” Hope has guided me, just as it guided Zuko. It’s allowed me to trust that even though the path may be unclear, I can still carve out my own destiny.
Like Mulan, who questioned her role in society, I’ve had to ask: Who do I want to be? In a world full of pressures, it’s easy to feel lost. But the courage to look inward, to break away from expectations, is what lets us write our own stories.
Choosing your own path is never easy, especially when pressure to conform is so strong. But as Zuko, Mulan and even Obama have shown us — whether through hope, reflection or standing up to those who dictate our lives — there is power in embracing who you are. Success isn’t defined by the path others lay out; it’s defined by the one you carve out for yourself.
To everyone at the College feeling the weight of expectations: It’s okay to step back and ask yourself what path is truly yours. Destiny is a funny thing, and maybe, like Zuko, you’ll find that your true path leads to something greater than you ever imagined.
