The Best Advice Ever - Thanks Mom !!!

My mother ruined me. She said I could be anything. I believed her.

I never felt hurried to lock into a career. That made it easier to walk away.

I changed my mind after a taste. Or when I had enough.

I love variety. I hate repetition.

Repetition is the Mother of Skill. That’s not the kind I hate.

I hate the dead-end kind. It tastes like cardboard.

I repeat a task until I acquire the skill. Then I acquire another skill.

Likely in a different field. Or in an adjacent field.

For security, my mother’s advice was horrible.

Security and scarcity are bedfellows.

Freed from scarcity, I felt good.

I left for college. 1982. It was cheap.

I changed majors five times. I graduated with a teaching degree.

Christmas.

I finished in four and a half years. I didn’t want five. Or six.

I wanted out.

I wanted the piece of paper. I didn’t care which major was printed on it.

I moved from Pennsylvania to Florida the minute I graduated.

I had my piece of paper. I applied everywhere. Including the school board.

I had no expectation for a teaching job. I didn’t want more high school.

I wanted rent money.

The school board called for an interview. I went.

A formality. I was breathing. No felonies. Misdemeanors long behind me.

I moved to the next round. That afternoon.

They showed a map. A school on the far side of the sugar cane fields.

It looked like twenty minutes. Forty-five minutes later I was there.

The principal expected me. The knock on the door gave her joy.

The last science teacher quit. She needed a teacher. Monday.

This was not an interview. She was selling hard. Like her rent depended on it.

It paid an extra $2000 tax-free. Travel hardship. Combat pay.

You had me at ‘job’.

Eighteen months later I quit.

Too many Zombies.

Kids I could handle. The rotten ones I kicked out. The rest paid attention.

For eighteen months I learned a skill.

Scratch that.

For twelve months I learned a skill. The rest I combed job listings.

Each year brings new kids. They move on. Teachers stay behind.

I would be held back a grade. Every year. For the rest of my career.

A Zombie.

The carrot for a Zombie is a pension. Zombies need pensions.

Experience had. Skill aquired. I quit.

Mom’s advice was perfect. I can be anything. Not at the same time.

Skill is security. Relationships are security. Experience is security.

Opportunity is infinite.

Best advice ever.

Thanks mom.

2017 - John B Murphy III - All Rights Reserved