A character in the musical ‘Avenue Q’ sings, ‘What do you do with a BA in English?’ Try a BA in English and theater.

But it’s a good question to ask, especially considering there seems to be three popular choices for those who will leave college fully equipped with a good old-fashioned English degree: You can teach English, go into publishing or become a lawyer.

Become a lawyer. Wow. That sounds like a metamorphosis of some sort. I will go into undergrad a meaningless English major caterpillar, and I will walk out of NYU Law School ‘ a magical butterfly lawyer. The other choices ‘ teaching and going into publishing ‘ seem to require less magic. You decide to teach. You work for a publisher. But you become a lawyer.

Some English majors do not aspire to practice law from the get-go, which I imagine is why they have to ‘become’ lawyers. ‘Becoming’ a lawyer inherently implies that you are not one, and will not be one until you have graduated law school, thereby having to go through an enormous changing process. Further along, English majors often find out that this career path pays well and that it excites them more than the propositions of teaching or publishing. And besides, if Elle Woods did it, so can you.

Finding out you have a way with words, enjoy arguing, generally win and don’t mind long, arduous hours generally means you are suited for law school. I have been told I should go to law school because I like to speak in front of large crowds and can whip out a few decent paragraphs on a regular basis, but I do not think that my ability to speak and write should be what keeps someone in or out of jail.

That would be unfortunate, especially considering I just don’t have the passion for law, and think the musical ‘Chicago’ exemplifies what a courtroom scene should be ‘ a joyous, red-hot display of song and dance, of course.

But maybe if I went to law school, I would develop a passion for law. Maybe if I went to law school, I would stop believing that people should occasionally sing in court. Maybe if I went to law school, I would cease making inappropriate references to musicals when discussing serious legal matters. I could enter law school like the aforementioned caterpillar ‘ and emerge as a beast of a lawyer butterfly. If butterflies can be beastly.

Fortunately for admissions offices across America, I have not even cracked open a preparation book for the LSATs ‘ I am not going to become a lawyer. But it’s nice to know I have the choice.

Law is an incredibly admirable field to go into, but the shoulder shrugging ‘guess I’ll go to law school’ folks aren’t the type I’d consider hiring to be my lawyer. I’d want to be represented by a fierce beastly one who knew this was his or her passion from the beginning, or who at least developed a sincere passion for it.

In other words, I would never hire myself. I would never hire a lawyer who really had her passions elsewhere, or who had a predilection for bursting out into song and a taste for climactic drama. Musical numbers amuse me, but not when I may be sued (especially considering my bank account). And for the drama and climactic scenes, I have ‘Law and Order’ for that, even if I never watch it.

We all could ‘become’ a lot of things, but for now, I’m interested in being what I am, not becoming something I am not. And I am not a lawyer. Maybe that means I’m not a beastly butterfly, but if I’m the best caterpillar out there with the best caterpillar skills, then I’ll stand out to some employer somehow ‘ and then maybe my bachelor’s degree won’t be so useless after all.