Who is the Millennial Cube Jockey?
The Preface and Introduction for an Essay Series
My Life Story: Start at the Beginning
Sometime between 1982 and 1983, my Mother gave birth to me in a Midwestern Hospital with my Father by her side. The delivery of their first child was difficult, and early on it became clear my health problems would last for my entire life. A “normal childhood” was probably impossible, so they did their best to prepare.
From Baby to Toddler and eventually Little Boy in Preschool, we lived in a bland Midwest town. It lacked a lot of diversity and culture compared to the West Coast places where my Parents both grew up. We lived there for my Dad’s job — a Tractor Trailer Operator, or Truck Driver if you will.
His intelligence, matched by a Nose-to-the-Grindstone work ethic, enabled him to specialize in transporting cargo that was Hazardous, Delicate and Expensive, or even Classified, and for that he was paid very well.
With work taking Dad out of town frequently for 3–4 days at a time, Mom became the default Primary Caretaker. In our case, Dad’s Labor Union helped him maintain a really high wage and excellent benefits like a Retirement Pension and comprehensive Health Care coverage. Mom’s practical skills were many, and though they might sound traditional and constrictive, her Cooking, Sewing, Coupon Clipping, and Volunteer activities kept her busy and social.
Of those early years, I mostly remember playing in the snow a lot and quite a few hospital visits in pain.
The investment by my Mom to get me reading early became a blessing. Books could help take my mind off the pain, ease the feeling of being lonely when recovering in bed away from my friends, and they were full of great artwork that I adore to this day. My Top Three is easy:
So from the confines of a small town, my Parents insisted on Education as critical to my development. They put their money behind their principles as well. Unsatisfied with the Public School system, partly for concern over my health, they paid for me to be in a Private Preschool Program.
Because of the individual attention I received, my Teachers were able to tell my Parents something like this:
He’s extremely bright, that’s obvious — but he’s so independent minded he has trouble taking instruction when he would rather do something else — oh, and he’s verbal enough to tell us this whenever he feels like it…
As a compromise, my Parents told the Teachers to trick me into doing extra Bonus work that I liked, such as Drawing, to keep me busy and willing to do the things I wasn’t very interested in. Doing their part also meant letting me spend as much time as possible outside in my Sandbox, riding my Bicycle around the neighborhood, or generally just getting my energy out.
The best way to describe it is I had two speeds: Full Throttle or OFF.
Welcome to Texas
Dad got a great offer to relocate to the North Texas area, Mom gave the thumbs up, and just as I was getting started in Elementary School, we packed up everything and headed South. Sure, I would miss a couple friends (Hi Adam!), but we promised to write letters and for a while we did. Overall though I was ready for a change and got one.
The thing about Grapevine, Texas is that it’s got a highly Agricultural and Rural Independent history but many areas that have been turned into Suburb type developments. Nice two story brick house developments down the road from mini-ranches with Horses type of contrast.
Good schools, lots of trees, and a few flavors of Christian Churches. Almost equal distance to Dallas or Fort Worth. Planting roots? Try Grapevine.
It was mostly a White community, but economically more diverse and inclusive than you might expect—that meant either working alongside or employing people of different Races or Religions. In the Public Elementary School I attended, there were probably as many Poor Whites as there were Middle Class Latinos, with few Asians or Blacks. Basically, Grapevine was a great place to settle in long-term and raise a family — it still is by the way.
The move also gave me a fresh start with my health problems: I had new Doctors, could explain my conditions to new people how I wanted so they wouldn’t make faces at me, and maybe meet a few more like me.
Dad’s job was a great fit, Mom excelled at Domestic Management, and I didn’t miss the snow at all. We had a house way too big for the three of us, but my Parents still were cheap at heart. Saving for that rainy day…
They drove modest cars, made meals at home, bought Legos at Garage Sales, and took me to the Library instead of the Book Store. Instead of Cable TV they let me have an NES. When my Dad got a Macintosh to help his work objectives, they let me have my fill of graphics and writing programs.
Starting on Third Base
Why go into such detail about my start in life? Simple:
Research indicates that Children in the United States born into Economically Stable, Education insistent households tend to have a high “Quality of Life” as Adults.
This is my way of coming clean, of admitting I got a really lucky start in life by being the Son of my Dad and Mom. In my case though, the incurable health challenges still with me play a role — later you’ll see how they have influenced my life choices and still do to this day. My prize came with a catch.
My Parents adapted well and got me active as much as possible through bike riding, swimming, and feeding my creative urges. Dad could play the Bass Guitar really well and allowed me free access to his diverse library of Cassette Tapes. Mom became my audience as I went from being interested in Dinosaurs to Cars to Computers over the years, and did her best to understand what I was talking about and find ways to encourage my studies.
Between all those great household activities, they still managed to argue on the regular, with shouting matches and tantrums and occasionally breaking stuff adding a level of tension that a kid will never forget…
When Being Smart is a Liability
As an only child with intelligent parents, really all I knew was our home. Because I was comfortable and pretty much lived up to high expectations, I expected to get rewarded for that attitude. Middle School sure changed that. In Texas, Middle School is like a mini-training camp for Athletes.
Baseball, Basketball, Football, Golf, Gymnastics, Soccer, Swimming, Track and Field, Wrestling — you name it, I couldn’t do it as a Boy. Nope…
It was easy to become a target, because while other Boys would try out and simply not make the team, I wouldn’t even try out. Add in my work ethic and ability to get good grades, and it made me stand out even more. The early lessons in Tribalism in Middle School are almost textbook in my case — attack the outsider, eliminate the threat of something different — but fortunately I was a fighter in spirit and told myself things would get better.
When it was time to enter High School, my Parents had a long sit down with me and asked if I’d be willing to change schools. A Private School. With Uniforms. A an hour bus ride to and from. A place with more Academic Clubs than Sports Teams. I’d have to take an Entrance Test, so it wasn’t a guarantee, but would I be willing to try?
Sign me up!
My first sight of the High School was on Test Day. I loved it, the full size lockers and all the diversity represented — getting in meant a lot to kids from poor households, and it meant just as much to those who could afford to pay full price. I wanted in and the only thing in my way was the test.
Like most families, soon after we got a form letter thanking us for our interest and stating they were still in the process of evaluations. If there was an opening for me, we would hear from them, but if not, they encouraged us to try again next year.
My Dad and Mom sat me down and told me what it meant, and my mind jumped back to having to go back to the same school. No tears, no whining, I just nodded and said I understood.
Two days later the phone rang. My Dad answered, talked loudly enough for me to hear from the other room and I ran in to be by his side.
“Hold on, he’s right here, I’ll ask him.”
He put his hand over the mouth piece of the receiver.
“Son, they have an opening. They want to know if you’d like to take it.”
I’m pretty sure they could hear me yelling “YES!” through his hand. With a big smile he let them know. My Mom congratulated me for earning it.
“…We Don’t Tolerate That Kind of Crap, Sir”
High School was, in my opinion, a pretty excellent experience. I got to meet a lot of other kids who were loved by their Parents but also didn’t like the homes they lived in, kids whose Parents had money but no time for love, and we were all in the same situation. Whatever you were interested in, you could find it — I decided recreational alcohol and drug use would occupy my time.
Like any Hobby, I practiced, put in time, effort, and money. The rift in my home between Dad on the road and Mom tiring of being feeling trapped by Domestic life made a lot of room to sneak around and play with whatever I could get. Because I knew they loved me I repaid them by staying successful in school and participating in volunteer work to stay humble.
Still, the pressure to succeed only got stronger over time and I learned to see how competitive, depressing, unfair, and violent life can be.
My Parents were honest though, telling me that because my Body was broken I’d have to earn my living with my Brain and that meant a University degree and maybe more — there are no hand-outs in this house. If life is tough, get tougher. Oh, and this is a classic one from my Dad when I was about 15:
“You know, you’ve got a smart mouth and think you’re pretty funny, but one day, there might be a really big dumb guy who doesn’t think you’re funny, and he’s going to punch you in the mouth so hard it might kill you…”
I was constantly reminded of my potential and need to achieve as much of it as possible. Hounded. But it worked and I got an Academic Scholarship to an in-state Private University out of the Metroplex and sighed with relief. At that point in time, I’d already consumed more types of alcohol and recreational drugs than most normal adults, so I was actually interested in, you know, going to learn some cool stuff about Computers and start my own life.
Having a skill with language and growing up with Macs and PCs made Computer Science a natural fit, at least to an outsider. I could program in a couple languages, HTML and C++ for example, use Adobe to build graphics, and had been online since the early days of 28.8 kbps modems. Unfortunately for me, every University Computer Science program emphasized Maths at the time — specifically Calculus.
…and I failed Calculus in High School but passed from Bonus Points. I failed Calculus II twice in University and Withdrew both times.
A long talk with my Parents and they approved my move to Digital Media — a unique Bachelors of Arts combination of English, Multimedia Arts, and Technology. They just wanted me to graduate with a useful Degree, no jail time, no unexpected babies, and minimal alcoholism. They already knew.
The Dot Com Bust and Another Fork in the Road
My last year in University was a ton of fun. I had a great roommate (Hi Tyler!), I had a great Part Time job at a Movie Rental Store, my GPA was solid…but I had no idea what to do after I got out. No Internships, no “Industry Connections” to call up, I talked again with my Parents.
“We paid for your University, but what comes next is on you.”
Ugh. Okay, how about Law School? Intellectual Property seemed really cool, a way to blend contracts and art and technology, but back around 2002, the response was “Yeah there’s no money in that.” I heard that on several occasions, but took the LSAT anyway. Good enough to get in to some IP schools, not good enough for scholarships. What about a Master’s Degree?
English was out of the question because I didn’t have a pure English degree to get in with. The Technology path was out of the question because I’d have a Bachelor’s of Arts instead of Science. There had to be something with rigor that would be useful, I thought, and I found an Education Program at a Major Texas University that specialized in Strategic Concepts.
I packed up my life and hid from the working world for two more years, learning the ins and outs of Academic Publication, of Research Standards, and hoping that taking on all the debt would help somehow.
The risk was there was no real “job title” to pursue after obtaining the Master’s Degree — it wasn’t a path that leads to becoming a Teacher — but the hope was having more than just a Bachelor’s Degree might at least pay-off when being compared to other entry-level applicants in Corporate America.
Hooray, I Graduated! Oh No, Not This Again…
In Spring 2008 I got my Masters in Education, had no job prospects, smoked Camel Lights, drank a lot of beer, had a large student loan debt, no money, and basically told my parents I was moving back home. They weren’t happy.
How do you think I felt? They didn’t like my smoking, so I blamed it on how they raised me. Seemed fair at the time. I knew living at home again was simply a stepping stone to a bigger future and I’m stubborn.
In October 2008, I interviewed for a Sales Support Position, a unique hybrid of technology, document, and writing skills were needed. The details? Full-Time at $32,000 per year (Salaried, Exempt), Health Insurance Benefits, 40 hours a week, eventual promotion potential. When the call came that I got the job, I think my Parents might have been slightly happier than me.
In 2008, I became a Millennial Cube Jockey, and in 2018, I have decided to share my Experiences, Lessons, and Struggles from Corporate America with the rest of the world. These Stories are my own, the Perspectives are hard-earned, and I may strike a nerve or two along the way…
Thank you for reading this far, and if you’re interested in what I have to offer in the coming articles, please stay tuned and I will do my best to make it worth your time.
