For much of my life I admired people who had what I considered high-powered, respectable careers. I thought doctors, lawyers, executives, judges, journalists, entrepreneurs, and other movers-and-shakers had something the rest of us didn’t. They worked harder, dedicated themselves more, took more risks, showed more determination, were smarter, etc.
As I get older, the veil has been lifted. I’ve learned that many people who get advanced college degrees do so in order to extend their worry free, carefree college life for years.
I’ve learned that many professors chose their careers not for dedication to their subject matter or a desire to educate students, but to have a cushy, guaranteed tenure position from which they can never be fired.
I recently read a book by a successful divorce attorney who explained that judges are lawyers who wanted to work in an easy 9 to 5 job, that pays well, without the grind of hourly billing and the long hours that are part and parcel of most attorney’s lives.
I discovered that many of the “successful entrepreneurs” grew up with privileged lifestyles funded by their own successful parents. The “risking it all” trope was actually actually backstopped by their parents’ wealth.
Are there exceptions? Sure.
But more often than not, I suspect a lot of the stories we’ve been led to believe are just that – stories.
I still have heroes and people I admire. Most of them are normal, average people I know.
- The husband who cares for his dying wife.
- The parents who go every one of their kid’s soccer games.
- The mother who helps her kids with their homework after a long day at work.
- My long deceased Aunt Es, who cared for multiple generations of nieces and nephews including me.
- My old boss, who gave me a chance to move from the warehouse into sales, when my only qualification was a willingness to work hard.
I’m imagine some of the people I run into every day are lawyers, doctors, professors and PhDs whom I would respect and admire. But because I don’t know them well enough, I simply don’t know.
And, I’ve learned, I don’t really care.