My Hero, the Garbage Man
I am not completely sure what I want to be when I grow up, but that has not always been the case.
It has been many years since I have had any firm, long-term career aspirations. I have learned that it is often more important to make mistakes than it is to make plans, and I am perfectly content to wait and see what comes. However, there was a season that occurred around the time of my fourth birthday, when my professional intensions were clear and undivided.
I grew up in sunny Costa Mesa, California amidst a typical deluge of stucco houses and cinderblock privacy walls. Like most four year old boys, I loved my toys and hated my vegetables. Unlike most other boys, I did not dream foremost of growing up to pilot space ships or march into battle. Instead, the most exciting part of my week always came early, on a weekday morning, when a really big truck would roll into our neighborhood and a team of hardworking heroes would hurriedly empty each and every household’s garbage can into the back of that metal behemoth. They would come and go in the blink of an eye, operating with incredible speed and precision, but I would always do my absolute best to be sure they did not make off without noticing my sharp appreciation for their work. Once a week, my Dad would swing open our solid front door and usher me out onto the front step where we would wait together in anticipation of the impending display. Each time I would be overcome with an acute sense of wonder, marveling at their privileged line of work. However, like any great fan, I did not just aspire to share proximity and oxygen with these guys, I wanted to be one of them. I dreamed of becoming a garbage man and everyone knew it. It was a cute, harmless dream and my parents did nothing to discourage it.
I have since grown out of that dream, but not because someone said something to me, or because I felt some kind of social pressure. Had my insatiable desire for garbage collection continued into adulthood, there would have been nothing wrong with me cashing in those dreams for reality. I stopped wanting to be a garbage man because, at some point, I experienced new things. As a toddler, I had never been required to do repeated labor. I did not yet have a clear understanding of how painful, and/or gratifying, physical exertion could be. My imagination was still developing and I had not fully discovered the ecstasy that comes with the act of creating something from nothing. I had never been faced with a complex problem whose solution would take weeks to unravel. I didn’t know what it feels like to be accepted by a team, or rejected by one. I had much left to experience, and I still do.
Speaking in terms of a career, there is a special cocktail of disciplines that conforms perfectly to my personal taste. It would not suit anyone else, and anyone else’s blend would not suit me. I am sure there is no perfect mix, but I am confident there are a lot of great mixes. I have come to realize that I would not do well collecting garbage because I dread repetition and driving huge vehicles. But I do love public speaking, and I am sure there are a lot of garbage men who would dread giving a speech.
After living through various seasons of self-discovery, I have a little better idea of “what I want to be when I grow up”, but I also know a lot of things I do not want to be. That is important, too.
I am not done learning, and neither are you. By the end of today, someone will have helped you, hurt you, taught you, learned from you, stabbed you in the back, or wiped a tear from your cheek. These are formative moments that can define how you evaluate your own soul. If your dream is to become a garbage man, then follow that path and watch for signs along the way. That was my dream when I was four, but by the time I was ten I had seen a sign that said, “DO NOT ENTER.” For the better part of my high school years I wanted to be an engineer, but then I realized that my brain is not designed to think spatially, so I began to intersect my love of technology with a flare for art and communication. For a while after that, I thought I was a filmmaker, and I still am, provided I continue to make films.
God gave you some talents that other people don’t have, and He gave some other people talents that you don’t have. With hard work, and patient calculation, you will develop (or maybe you already have) a great recipe for those ingredients. It will probably get even better each time you try it. But for now, don’t be afraid to stand on your front step and wave to the heroes who pass by.
