By A. Carly Buxton, PhD

Why do we feel compelled to choose a single, clearly defined career path? Perhaps it’s because “what do you do for a living?” is the ubiquitous icebreaker in our society. Or maybe it’s because we’ve been conditioned since childhood to provide a straightforward answer to the perennial question, “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I’m Carly Buxton, and over the past few years, you might have seen or heard me: on the stage at the AWS Women of the Cloud Event in New York City, a featured woman-in-tech
entrepreneur; on a podcast or speaking in a university lecture series about my book Unthinking Collaboration, which covers a rather obscure corner of WWII history and was released by the University of Hawai`i in 2022; or maybe you saw me as a background extra in Season 2, Episode 7 of Swagger, performing in the ensemble of a musical workshop currently targeting a Broadway run, or even as your trusty Supply Chain Manager in a commercial for Tidewater Community College. I consistently oscillate across three primary income streams: startup founder, writer/educator, and performer, and my quest for a set of headshots and press images that could capture my multifaceted life (and serve some pretty versatile PR purposes) led me to collaborate with Aleks.

I am a consummate multitasker–or, in the words of author Emilie Wapnick, a “multipotentialite.” I thrive on the art of shifting gears, embracing new challenges, and weaving together the threads of my diverse experiences and talents. I’m a Startup CEO slash Professor slash Writer slash Performer slash UX consultant (slash Doula slash Mom slash Lactation Counselor and much more, to be honest). I run a company called Parentswarm which builds technology that gives families their time back by solving the real challenges parents face every day. I teach business communication at the University of Richmond and mentor early-stage professionals in the startup community here in my hometown. And then there’s my love for the performing arts, where I throw my hat into the ring for local commercials, background work, and ensemble or featured singing. And though I’ve shifted away from regular historical research, I remain deeply connected to the academic community, participating in panels and supporting others in their research endeavors, all while passionately sharing the WWII narratives of Japanese Americans that continue to captivate me.

Embracing this oscillation hasn’t always come naturally. At times, I was consumed by self-doubt, nagged by the question of what was wrong with me for not being content with just one pursuit. Why was I always so restless, seeking new challenges and moving on after mastering the learning curve in the early phases of a new task, project, or role? For years, I went to great lengths to keep my side hustles hidden so that those “at the top” wouldn’t doubt my commitment. As a doctoral student at the University of Chicago in the Department of East Asian
Languages and Civilizations, for example, I was a veritable Clark Kent: teaching a room full of undergrads and then ducking into the bathroom to change into my flight attendant uniform and scurry off to moonlight as a flight attendant for Delta (which remains the most exciting side-hustle I’ve ever had!) I’ve always felt like I was living a double–or triple–life, and there was, for many years, some sort of shame in that. I dreaded the inevitable question “what do you do?” at social events and rehearsed a multitude of different versions, and yet–even today–nothing feels quite right, or quite succinct enough to capture what I actually am doing with my time on this earth.

This pressure to “choose” one path, to find that single purpose that would define my identity, persisted well into my thirties. In February 2020, seven months pregnant with my second child and grappling with career uncertainty, I sought the guidance of a psychic for the first time in my life. I wanted her to make the decision for me, to reveal the path I should follow: the fledgling startup idea, a return to academia and a tenure-track position, or the new job offer I’d just received in market research? In the end, she wanted me to answer it myself–via my own “intuition”–and I walked away more confused than ever.

And yet, during that cocoon-and-reset phase so many of us experienced during the pandemic, I grew to be more and more at peace with my multifaceted nature. I launched a personal website, dedicating tabs to each of my career threads. I stopped worrying about constructing a cohesive overarching story and took the income where it came. I began relishing the oscillation itself, settling into the role that feels most fruitful in a given moment, or the one that presents the most urgent deadlines or most promising payoffs. This way of living is indeed a privilege, one that comes with financial stability and the ability to take risks after years of laying the groundwork. It’s a privilege that accompanies no longer being a novice, of feeling less pressure to explain my choices to others; I simply don’t care as much as I once did about what people think of me and my choices.

My unique blend of experiences has led me down a fulfilling and purposeful journey, enhancing my professional endeavors in unexpected ways. My performance background makes me a more engaging speaker for tech audiences. My years of conducting oral history interviews inform my approach to product development and UX. My teaching experience helps me communicate complex concepts to diverse stakeholders. This cross-pollination of skills has led me down a fulfilling and purposeful journey, even if it doesn’t fit neatly into society’s checkboxes. And as I reflect on my journey thus far, I’ve come to embrace the beauty of being an enigma, of challenging the norms of the 9-to-5, and of following my passions wherever they may lead. I’ve learned that the richness of life lies in its diversity of experiences and roles, as we find the ways we can be most useful to others at any given time while staying true to our own boundaries. I believe in the power of a multifaceted life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.