Last night, I gave a person who has meant so much to me over the last 10 years a big hug. He had been a captain of industry when I was just getting started as a presenter and writer, and he gave me both confidence and an opportunity when I needed it. Over the years, he gave me advice and encouragement at critical and formative times.
The last time I talked to this guy was a few years ago when he called me to tell me he was retiring. He said he had a list of people he wanted to personally reach out to, and I was honored to be on it. That’s why I was so thrilled and surprised to see him at the conference I have been attending.
As we talked, I realized I wanted more time with him than this chance encounter would allow. I said, “I need to move some things on my schedule, but I’d really like to have dinner with you.” He looked embarrassed for a moment and then said “But Andy, I’m just a little fish now.”
It felt like a bit of a punch in the gut. I think he thought that, because he didn’t have a certain job or power in a big organization, his value to me was diminished. I was confused at the moment about why he would say something like that. I told him “I don’t care what size fish you are. We’re going to have dinner.”
A few hours later, a different friend expressed worries around leaving a job she isn’t enjoying. When I pressed her on what exactly concerned her most about leaving, she told me she “didn’t want to get kicked out of the cool kids club.”
Onward and Upward is a Myth
For most of my life, I was told the normal path for people was onward and upward. I thought that we all chose a path and then advanced up it in a meritocratic fashion until we achieved a state of happiness or reached a level in the organization where we were doing what best fit our skills. It wasn’t until I had been around for a while that I realized that is not what happens.
We celebrate people starting new jobs and achieving big success. We do not, however, talk about the winding, frustrating, uncertain path between those points that makes up our actual lives. How often have you heard someone say something like “Well, we started off in 2009 and it was a lot of hard work, and I’m so happy to be receiving this award today”? The part they summarized as “a lot of hard work” was actually hard work, setbacks, failures, restarts, complete changes in course, and two dozen therapy sessions. But no one tells you that.
Over the years, I have gotten used to seeing people who once held fancy titles at one company suddenly appear working for a different company with a not-nearly-as-fancy title. I’ve seen people who were corporate ladder climbers go back to being associate veterinarians and associate veterinarians become corporate ladder climbers. I’ve watched the wide-eyed vet student become the talented surgeon, and I’ve seen the talented surgeon sweat bullets in an exam room when she could no longer do only surgeries. These transitions are not failures. They are simply the journey that is real life.
The Shields we Carry
The thing that makes me angry about the myth of onward and upward is how insecure it makes us. If we believe that normalcy is marching in a straight and upward line, then every significant deviation from that seems like failure. Every step that does not move us toward the event we imagine we will ultimately be celebrated for is at best abnormal, and at worst an embarrassing disaster.
The belief that we need to be moving in some upward direction is why, I believe, so many of us hold our jobs up as a shield. When the world asks “who are you? What value do you have?” Many of us duck behind our job title as protection. “I am the chief medical officer at SuperPets,” or “I’m the regional sales lead at pharma-company-you-know,” or even “I’m an LVT.”
Friends, those answers are not who you are or what value you have. Those are just jobs. When insecurity washes over us, we often raise our business cards as shields, their titles emblazoned as proof of our status and worth.
Listen to me: you do not need this shield. I am going to have dinner with my mentor because I value him as a person who makes the world a better place, and I care deeply about him. He has worth because of his kindness, wit, humor, compassion, intellect, and our shared experiences. Not because of his stupid business card. My other friend will never be out of any “cool kids club” that involves me, because her job isn’t what makes her “cool.”
The healthiest, happiest, wisest, strongest people I know are the ones who do not need a job title to shake hands with others. They are the ones who have figured out what is really important in this life. They know they are worthy of love and respect because of their character, and not because of the logo on their polo shirt.
I hope that you are one of those people. If you need someone to tell you that you will matter and make the world brighter no matter what job you have, then let me do that now. You don’t need a shield to hide behind. Your character is all that matters. When someone asks you who you are, don’t take cover behind a business card (or wish you had a more impressive one). Stand tall, believe in yourself as a person, and look a fellow traveler on the winding path of life right in the eye.
