What happened to all the skilled tradesmen? Heck, what happened to all the real men? I often hear these questions when people complain about the lack of a skilled workforce. We act like these complaints are new, yet unfortunately they are not, as sailors have been complaining about this for millennia. We long for a time when iron men served on wooden ships. The problem is not that we have all-of-a-sudden identified an age-old issue, the problem is why have we still not found a solution. Simply put, we have been too focused on whose fault it is. Through this short story we will not only examine whose fault it is, but more importantly we will identify a solution; not the new and innovative solution everyone demands, but a well-established one that has been around for over a hundred years. It is one that was even around before the last wooden ship of the U.S. Navy was commissioned in 1914, the USS Oklahoma.
IRON MEN AND WOODEN SHIPS
About five years ago a trade organization I participate in was approached by several out of-town business leaders asking for help developing work force training in their area. As I listened intently, I wondered, “Why are these business leaders coming to us?” Yes, our area had numerous options for craft training, but these were options I felt we could be better at, especially in the areas of recruitment and retention. Sure, all of us associated with craft training talked a good game and had numerous successes under our belts that we could brag about, but was our little corner of the USA really in a position to instruct others about how to build and grow a skilled workforce? Were we even adapting to the technology being used by the different generations? Heck, was our area even coordinating it’s efforts with the local industries for the betterment of the students? As the conversation continued, I just sat there and wondered, why us?
YOU GOT TO CUT LOOSE – FOOTLOOSE
I sat there as pleasantries, problems, and root causes were shared by all. There was even a peculiar comment that an actual cork bulletin board was a great place to put job postings. I sat there in silence, mainly because as a product of Generation X, I knew if I didn’t have anything nice to say, then I shouldn’t say anything at all. Also, being a product of Generation X, and being surrounded by many older and wiser Baby Boomers, I knew as a 40+ year old youngster, I was meant to be seen and not heard.
Stuck there in my silence, it didn’t take long for my mind to wander away from solving the nationwide workforce dilemma and back to a movie I saw in 1984. It was a movie that possibly held an answer to this problem, a movie where Ren, played by Kevin Bacon, stared down his protagonist, Chuck, while playing a game of chicken on tractors. No, the answer wasn’t a game of chicken on farm implements; the answer was in the song that played in the background while that Heartland USA agricultural joust played out in my mind. It was Bonnie Tyler’s song, “Holding Out for a Hero,” that acoustically reverberated in my Gen X mind. In particular, it was the lyrics in which she asked where all the good men had gone that had me drifting down a Generation X rabbit hole, because that is all I was hearing from this room full of Boomers. “What is wrong with this generation?” one would say, while another would chime in, “It’s like these momma’s boys don’t want to work!” Then another would say, “I know, where have all the good men gone?” I sat in stunned silence, wondering why these business leaders, much like Chuck, the pastor, the police, and most of the townspeople of Bomont in the movie “Footloose” couldn’t see that change was inevitable from generation to generation. I wondered why these Boomers continued to complain about the problem, instead of being the leaders and the heroes their industry so desperately needed them to be – leaders and heroes that all the successive generations needed to guide, educate, mentor and motivate them. The conversation continued and it became blatantly obvious to me no one in this room, besides maybe me, had ever been motivated to challenge the status quo because of the movie “Footloose” and the song “Holding Out For A Hero!” This wasn’t too surprising to me since most of these business leaders sounded more like the leaders I served under in the U.S. Navy, and a lot less like Ren. They sounded like those nautical nemeses of mine who said us young sailors were worthless, and they longed to once again serve with the sailors of old, you know, the iron ones. Yes, instead of guiding, educating, mentoring, and motivating us young sailors, they merely complained about us saying, “I long for old days when iron men served on wooden ships.”
THOSE IRON MEN
To understand what it will take to fix our nations labor crisis everyone must first admit we all possess the ability to be iron men that can, regardless of the name of our generation. Secondly, we must admit and accept the days of wooden sailing ships are long gone. Let me repeat myself, yes, we are all capable of being iron men, and women; however, we all must first stand up and begin to act like it. After all, we all come from a warrior society, and it was warriors of the preceding generations I came across throughout my life who both mentored and motivated me. Let me give you a few examples.
When I was eight years old, an older gentleman observed me doing something stupid at a parade in Georgetown,Texas. It was this man, an obvious veteran, who took charge and told my momma, “Ma’am, I am not sure if your son’s daddy died in the war, but he need not be doing that in public!” I knew my mother was embarrassed when she turned to me and said, “Did you hear that? If so, what do you say to this gentleman?” “Yes sir, I’m sorry,” was the most I could muster before my mother further scolded me and told me to never embarrass her like that again! I met another warrior who mentored and motivated me while I was attending Grace King High School in Metairie, Louisiana. One day I chose to stop yapping long enough to hear my bus driver tell me he was not much older than me when he was a door gunner on a bomber in WWII. You have to admire those iron men from the Greatest Generation. That may have been enough to set me on the right path, but still another warrior not only mentored and motivated me, but he also did so to numerous others over decades he worked at Thibodaux High School. When I met my principal, I immediately learned to respect this iron man of the Silent Generation and over the years he proved to be a powerful and positive force in my life, as well as in so many other students’ lives. Even my grown-up, Baby Boomer, hippie uncle still called him coach from his time of being mentored by this iron man.
However, it was in the U.S. Navy where I first began to question the hypocrisy of these so-called warrior leaders, these self-proclaimed iron men who bragged about being so tough they might as well have sailed and fought in the epic naval battles of old. It was the paradox of these so-called warrior leaders who proudly proclaimed to us young sailors they had come from an era of iron men and wooden ships. These so-called warriors who could have chosen to mentor and motivate us, but instead chose to complain and ridicule us by saying our generation was sure to lead to the demise of our nation! I could have been one of those young sailors who was hurt and held back by their ridicule, but I just couldn’t allow them to do that to me and this shocked them, because little did they know I grew up with uncles who made these self-professed iron men look like pussy cats.
It was because of this I couldn’t help but snicker as I wondered if these leaders were honestly comparing themselves to those iron men who served on wooden ships like the USS Ranger under the command of John Paul Jones during the Revolutionary War? Or maybe they imagined themselves to have been iron men like the ones who served on the wooden ship the USS Intrepid under Stephen Decatur during the Barbay Wars? One thing was certain and that was they evidently thought their insults were the first time I heard someone complain about a successive generation of Americans. It wasn’t, and humorously these self-professed iron men were actually from a generation my Pawpaw called a bunch of long-haired, dope-smoking, free loving, hippies which he exclaimed were sure to lead our nation to its imminent demise! Did these Baby Boomers truly think they were the first generation to complain about the next or were they merely repeating what someone from the Silent Generation had told them? If so, was the Silent Generation just repeating something they heard from the Greatest Generation? If all this was just generational negativity, then who would break this cycle of blame? It evidently wasn’t going to be the Greatest Generation, the Silent Generation, or even the Baby Boomers, and therefore if no previous generation would do it, then I knew it would have to be me, the product of Generation X. That is right, once I earned a little rank, I knew I was going to be a warrior leader like no one else before and maybe even an iron one at that.
Then years later it happened, and I gained enough rank and seniority in the navy to lead men. And what did I do different with my power? I looked at the next group of young sailors coming in and told them, “Seeing y’all has me longing for the days of iron men and wooden ships!” It’s funny how it is easier to fall into hypocrisy and perpetuate the problem, instead of being part of a solution. It was a solution, I must point out, I still had not realized, at least not until well into my forties, even though I had experienced it personally at Haynes Junior High. It was a solution so obvious and yet we still couldn’t put it into practice, because we knew we first had to figure out whose fault it was!
IT’S THE WOMAN’S FAULT
Clarence Darrow said, “The first half of our lives are ruined by our parents and the second half by our children.” This quote was made a very long time ago and although it is still relevant, had Clarence been in the middle of this modern workforce dilemma his quote very well might have been, “The problems in the first half of our lives are caused by our mothers and the second half by our wives.” Don’t get mad at me for repeating something a business leader in our meeting said when he questioned who created this next generation of momma’s boys. He’s the one who said it was the mother’s fault, not mine! Furthermore, he said it was wives and girlfriends who allowed this next generation of supposed men to continue to get away with behaving like momma’s boys! Again, don’t get mad at me for pointing out the obvious. After all, it couldn’t be leadership’s fault, or could it?
Being permanently in the workforce full-time since I joined the U.S. Navy, I have seen many different leadership styles. I have heard these different styles of leadership evolved out of necessity because the quality of American workers had been declining ever since…… Well, I am not exactly sure how long the quality of workers has been declining because it seems like every previous generation has complained about the successive generations, especially after they entered the workforce. Maybe these changes in leadership styles were necessary to be able to better supervise all the soft momma’s boys the women of this nation were creating. Still, maybe these women caused this problem, not by nurturing their momma’s boys too long, but by wanting the best for their children. If this is true, then maybe women ensuring that each successive generation of their children having it easier than the ones before was not such a bad thing. Was the lack of sharing in the same hardships over all the generations what led to our current workforce dilemma? Or was the lack of repeating the previous generations’ struggles simply something called progress? As for my personal experiences in life, I have always loved progress because when I got to middle school there was air conditioning waiting on me. It was the exact same middle school my uncles went to – without air conditioning. And they sure complained loudly about me having air conditioning in middle school, saying I was soft because they had to wait until they got into high school for that luxury. Yes, they found it necessary to complain about me growing up soft because I got air conditioning in school earlier than they did and in my opinion their attitude was simply hypocritical.
Likewise, blaming a successive generation for the state of our workforce is as hypocritical as Adam telling God, “The woman you put here with me – she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.” That is right, what we are witnessing in blaming each successive generation for the woes of our nation’s workforce is an old-fashioned blame game and it goes back to Adam and Eve. And no matter how odd I think it was for Eve to speak to a serpent; I have to admit Adam was right next to her when she did and never once did, he try to stop her. Yep, we tend to forget Adam not once questioned her decision even though he had been given Stop Work Authority from God himself! Thus, in the same way it was not just Eve’s fault, it is also not our mothers’ and wives’ fault. Each successive generation of our workforce has had it easier because of progress. However, if we cannot blame women, then whose fault, is it?
WERE BIPLANES STEALTHY?
This is a short story and not a novel so I will not be able to take you all the way back through each failed generation beginning with Adam and Eve; even though they were the first one to complain about the next when they wondered why Cain behaved the way he did. There simply is no need for us to continue this age-old blame game because comparing successive generations to each other is about as fair as comparing the stealth of a biplane to that of a sixth generation fighter jet!
Maybe my uncles should have been happy with the comforts progress put on their nephew’s life, instead of hypocritically complaining about my childhood being easier than theirs. As I said before, I for one love progress. I was both thrilled and frightened the first time I sat behind a computer keyboard in 1994 while in the U.S. Navy. Yes, I had never used a computer or a keyboard before 1994; actually, I took typing in high school. Still, I did not once complain about how easy it was for my children to have a computer, and neither should any of you. Just look at us now with the progress we have made and are still making, because with every stroke my fingers take on this keyboard, technology and progress continue to advance for the benefit of us all. Unfortunately, somehow our attitudes toward the next generations do not. We still complain about the soft kids coming up today just like my uncles did about me. We still complain about how soft these kids are because they never experienced the same hardships we did when we were their age. Will we ever be able to sit back and think maybe not all progress makes everything easier for the next generation? When I was a teenager, I was not thrilled at the embarrassment I felt of being less fortunate than others in high school; however, once home the embarrassment of our financial state eased up. Nowadays, I cannot imagine how it must be for the kids, with technology not allowing any of them to escape their fears and insecurities even after arriving safely at home. Yes, the Greatest Generation and Generation Alpha are as far apart technology-wise as biplanes and sixth-generation fighter jets, but I bet if we look closely enough at each generation, we can find similarities we can build on for the benefit of everyone.
MAYBE SILENCE IS NOT GOLDEN?
The Greatest Generation struggled through the Great Depression and proved our labor force wanted more than queuing at soup kitchens, they wanted honest work and the respect that comes from it. This was also the generation that fought and defeated Fascism in WWII and returned home to transform the Arsenal of Democracy economy into a prosperous peace time one. The Greatest Generation came home and built some of the first modern subdivisions along with the interstate highway system, and in doing so benefited greatly from the economic growth that resulted from this progress. However, no matter what successes this greatest of generations experienced, they had a very real danger looming right around the corner – the next generation.
That’s right, for the Greatest Generation, the successive generation, the Silent Generation, was a very real danger to their American Dream. This was because the Silent Generation enjoyed freedoms they hadn’t fought for, and enjoyed progress and prosperity they hadn’t earned. Sure, the Silent Generation fought valiantly in the Korean War stopping the march of Communism, but were any of their struggles even remotely comparable to those of the Greatest Generation? The Greatest Generation didn’t think so and let them know this by loudly complaining that all their hard work and sacrifices were being squandered as The Silent Generation sat back and enjoyed prosperity, all the while allowing their liberties to be trampled on by McCarthyism. Knowing this, can we say it was the Silent Generation that started the degradation of our society? Did their silence begin the decline of our nation’s labor force which I heard about my whole life? Was their silence what allowed the next generation, the Baby Boomers, to act the way they did?
ALL THOSE DAMNED HIPPIES
Even with their silence, somehow our nation not only survived, but grew and prospered. And thank goodness it did because the generation that was coming behind them, the Baby Boomers, were sure to lead to the complete collapse of society as we knew it! And if any generation would destroy us with their soft upbringing and poor work ethic, it would be the Boomers. Yes, the Baby Boomers surely would destroy this nation simply based on the moral decline brought about by all those damned hippies. Sure, they fought hard in Vietnam, but their rock and roll upbringing had made them soft. Ironically it was this generation that finally gave the Silent Generation their voice as they loudly complained that all the partying, dope smoking, and free Hippie love was a result of an easy upbringing. The Silent Generation said technology and progress was exactly what caused the Boomers lackadaisical lifestyle and directly led to the degradation of the American labor force! They also screamed about the kids of those Baby Boomers, saying they were sure to be worse, merely by growing up in subdivisions and not on farms. With their newfound voice the Silent Generation loudly complained about yet another generation of momma’s boys having it easy while ruining their brains watching all three television stations that were available to them, and in color. Yes, the Silent Generation must have been right when they said our work force problems started with all those dammed hippies!
I WANT MY MTV
Still somehow our nation continued to grow and prosper. Sure, some of our older steel mills and less automated factories closed, yet somehow, we managed to progress forward as a nation. And it continued to get easier for everyone, both young and old! My dad’s parents, who were from the Silent Generation, had a four-bedroom brick home, central air conditioning, a motor home for vacations, and even a microwave my Mawmaw hated, but said made a great breadbox.
And what happened to all those lazy, dope-smoking, free-loving, Baby Boomer Hippies? Well, they finished up their protests just in time to actually graduate college; and turned in their flowers for entrepreneurship. Then after gaining success in life, they did the next logical thing and shifted the blame to my generation, Generation X, by complaining about how easy we had it! Sure, my generation fought and died in Lebanon, Granada, Panama, and Desert Storm, but they said we had it easy with all the new technology. They told us we had to be the worst generation thus far as we only cared about MTV, arcade games, and avoiding hard work, at least those whose Pawpaw didn’t have a machine shop and acreage. And to top it all off, those free-loving, forward-thinking Baby Boomers never even admitted by pushing their vision of hippie higher education on Generation X, they hurt not only us, but every successive generation up to and including our most current one. Yes, the Baby Boomers were the generation that led the crusade to remove vocational training from schools and replace it with the concept of everyone needing to go to college, at least if they wanted to be respected in society. And even after doing this to my generation they still somehow found it appropriate to complain about our work ethic. They said we didn’t know how to work with our hands, and we would surely lead to the degradation of our work force and the eventual decline of our nation as a whole.
EIGHTY-THREE MILLION COMPUTER TECHNICIANS
I, for one, attended a vo-tech program in high school, but by this time it was more of a sluff off class where absolutely no mentoring occurred, mentoring that should have taught us a career as a skilled tradesman would lead to a good life. I am not saying I was the most motivated self-starter of my generation, but I was willing to learn, and was pretty smart, even if I ashamedly thought MTV programming was pure genius. However, as I sit here writing this, I am more ashamed of what my generation chose to do next, even more than my thoughts about MTV. We too took our turn at the blame game when we complained about the next generation, the Millennials, and their inability to write in cursive and overdependence on technology – which led to every one of them wanting to be a professional IT Technician. I mean, were there even enough computers in this country for all eighty-three million of them to become computer technicians? Let me tell you compared to my generation, those Millennials not only lacked the work ethic we needed in this country, but they also lacked the basic mechanical skills. As they turned into adults and came out into the work force, it quickly became evident they had never built a tree house, fixed a bicycle, or had any firsthand experience of what came after the comment, “Keep crying and I’ll give you something to cry about!” Nope, they were put in time out, earned participation trophies, were continually told how special they were, and it showed in their softness. These Millennials’ work ethic was shocking to us previous generations; they didn’t mind being five minutes late, they insisted on taking vacations, and they never showed any commitment to go to work when they were sick. Sure, they fought in the War on Terror in Iraq, Afghanistan, and across the globe, but they had internet and air-conditioned barracks. It was obvious they never experienced the misery of spending a summer attending Naval Security Guard training at Naval Air Station Lakehurst, New Jersey with all the pleasures that go along with trying to sleep in unairconditioned barracks! These computer technicians were so soft with their flip phones, text messaging, and online dating. We openly ridiculed them for the all the useless things they did. I remember saying to that pretty little blond lady, “Only teenage girls’ text and only weirdos go on dates with people they meet online!” The Millennials, those eighty-three million IT technicians, had to be the worst generation of all, and they were sure to lead to the degradation of our work force and the eventual decline of our nation as a whole.
BUT I’M REALLY GOOD AT GAMING!
Do you know what those 83 million IT technicians did after the War on Terror? All those battle-hardened Millennial warriors came back home and did what each previous generation had done, they entered the workforce. That is correct, some even exchanged their combat helmets for hard hats, their rifles for hand tools, and with their help our country not only grew, but prospered like never before. Somehow, this worst generation of all got out there and helped build our nation. Yes, this worst generation of all even contributed to the success of the Shale Revolution that ended our dependence on foreign oil. They selflessly worked long hours in difficult situations, enduring not only the heat of West Texas, but also the freezing temperatures of the Dakotas. And in doing so, this new batch of American skilled tradesmen and women brought about a level of progress and prosperity our nation hadn’t seen in decades. Yet, even with their hard work, industry still complained about the degradation of our work force brought about by the Millennials. Those of us from the previous generations complained they were not doing things the way we had done them when we were young in the trades, and we stubbornly wouldn’t even admit the fact that industry had progressed along with technology. Furthermore, we never even thanked them for showing us how advancements in technology could lead to labor savings, instead we held onto the belief the old ways of doing things were better. We told them no matter what, no cell phones were allowed on job sites, even though they had construction related apps at their fingertips that dealt with things like conduit and pipe calculations, instrument calibration formulas, and real time tracking, and reporting. We couldn’t admit they developed apps which ensured levels of accuracy never before seen in our industry. Yet, even with all the criticism we put on the Millennials and their negative attributes, they somehow persevered, proving us wrong and becoming not only the next generation of skilled tradespeople, but also very capable leaders. Very strong and capable leaders!
However, they needed helpers, and low and behold Generation Z was coming up to fill that void and what did the Millennials think about this next generation? All of us previous generations had taught those Millennials well as they said Generation Z was the worst because all they wanted from life was to become professional gamers! Yes, the Millennials followed in our footsteps by questioning how our nation would survive this next generation of vitamin D deficient gamers. The Millennials told all of us previous generations that Generation Z would never be able to contribute to the industry as they could not even survive working in the sun, at least not without burning up like vampires. They warned us that even if HR and OSHA somehow allowed us to lather Generation Z down with enough sunscreen to keep them from turning to dust, they would still never be able to learn a trade because they did not possess the basics of interpersonal communication. After all, they grew up communicating with each other through text and emojis.
Those of us from the previous generations found it disheartening our children and grandchildren were lazy creatures of the night, but we told Millennials not to worry because we could just do it without Gen Z. And we were right, all of us Boomers, Gen X, and Millennials continued to bust our collective tails on job sites bringing in quality projects safely, while only breaking long enough to grab a quick lunch where we talked about how Generation Z was sure to lead to the complete collapse of our society. And we were correct in our assessment because we couldn’t even keep those Gen Z workers who were brave enough to come outside during the day, off their phones. And on top of all their other deficiencies, Gen Z came to work looking like industry fashion faux pas, as they proudly walked around wearing cooling vests and cooling towels all the while holding securely onto a bottle of water as if they would melt without it. This generation of unsatisfactory workers couldn’t even be trusted to drink out of paper cups like we did and OSHA made sure we all knew it. What were we going to do about this impending collapse of our workforce? Who would be the next generation of skilled trades persons to lead our nation into prosperity if all Generation Z wanted to do was game?
MY GOODNESS, YOU’RE AN IDIOT!
Months had gone by since the meeting that drove my thoughts on this subject and still, I found myself perplexed about what to do with the pending collapse of our society. My haunted thoughts were not all my fault, after all many others continually complained about the degradation of the American workforce and our impending societal collapse. And to make matters worse, this was all happening while I was still years away from retirement!
I thought long and hard and realized if we couldn’t fix our nation’s impending societal collapse, then I would have to insulate myself and my family the best way I knew how. Thus, one day after work I went home and told that pretty little blond lady if we could stay out of debt and save like never before, then maybe, just maybe, we might be able to retire before things got any worse and society, as we knew it, collapsed. That pretty little blond lady looked at me with love in her eyes and asked, “What the hell are you talking about!” I said, “You don’t understand just how bad Generation Z is! You are not hearing the Baby Boomers, our generation, and the Millennials continually complain about how this entire generation of gamers are destroying the very fabric of our society!” She looked at me in a way that either meant she understood or she thought I was a complete idiot, and said, “Oh, do tell me how bad it is?” “Oh, my goodness, you have no idea,” I said before I continued with, “You don’t understand. Generation Z will be the ones taking care of us when we are old. They are so incompetent they will stand on our ventilator hoses and not even realize they are killing us because they will be too busy playing video games on their phones!”
As I went on to explain my plan for our escape from impending societal collapse, my impassioned pleas for her to see the seriousness of our situation were interrupted by a phone call. It turned out to be a phone call which I can now admit was rather deceptive in nature. You see, at the time I truly believed an invitation from a friend to catch up over lunch at a place that served some of the best onion rings in town was purely coincidental and innocent. After all, there was no way someone I considered not only a friend, but an industry mentor, would use his personal knowledge of my love for real homemade onion rings against me, but he did.
Only a few days later, and still not understanding the depths of his deception, I found myself walking into a trap I did not see because my self-preservation senses were overwhelmed by the sweet aroma of homemade onion rings. Although I am usually a very cautious individual, I found myself paralyzed in aromatic sensory overload as I willingly sat down in his snare. I peered naively at him and the head of a local non-profit as they conveniently sat across a rather large platter of onion rings. After introductions and pleasantries, I found my position even more precarious as I was intoxicated by a belly full of onion rings that were perfectly seasoned with both peer pressure and flattery. Then the two of them sprung the trap by saying, “You would be the perfect fit for our board of directors.” I just sat there unable to move as a snare tightened securely around my waist, a waist that was inconveniently bigger from all those damned onion rings. Then I realized one should never trust friends bearing gifts, especially friends whose gifts are onion rings and flattery! Those of you who know me probably think I jumped right in and accepted the position of honor; however, I am far smarter than that and after lunch excused myself by saying, “Thank you, and while I am flattered, I need to seek the wise counsel of a pretty little blond lady.”
With that stroke of genius, I went home where I explained my predicament to that pretty little blond lady. Instead of wise counsel and the sympathetic hug I was looking for, all I got was, “Scott, don’t be an idiot, you already have enough on your plate!” This is exactly why I love her and with her unwavering support and wise counsel I went to sleep with a peace about me. After waking up refreshed and secure in what I was going to say I headed off to work where I called my friend and accepted the role as a member of the board of directors. Don’t act shocked, after all they fed me onion rings and complimented me by insisting, I was the perfect fit for the role of a board member of a prestigious organization! Later that afternoon I returned home and told that pretty little blond lady what I did, and I must admit her level of support amazed me. “My goodness you’re an idiot!” she said as she shot a look of pity my way. I was a little surprised by her comment because after meeting me eons ago, she too developed a taste for onion rings, a taste that can easily overwhelm even her, especially because, before me, she was more of a fan of tater tots, yuck. Therefore, I felt she should have been more understanding of the dangers of onion rings, peer pressure, and compliments. Even after her unwavering support, I found myself sitting there, wondering whether it was my well-thought-out acceptance of their offer that made me an idiot or was it because I felt ill prepared for this new role in my life? However, maybe that pretty little blond lady was wrong for the first time in her life and what I did was not idiotic at all. Maybe, just maybe, I was adventurous like those iron men who sailed on wooden ships.
WHO DOESN’T WANT TO BE A HERO
With that pretty little blond lady unwilling to help me get my foot out of the trap, and me not willing to chew it off, even though she reminded me it was already in my mouth, I decided to make the most of my adventurous idiocy and see what good I could do while serving on this board – at least until my sentence was up in a year. And so, with Spotify playing the song “Holding Out for a Hero,” I pulled up to my very first Junior Achievement board meeting. You see, after my pep talk with that pretty little blond lady, I came to the realization of just how close idiocy and adventurism truly are to each other and decided to make a noble quest out of my predicament. I chose to set out to find the solution to the inevitable collapse of the American workforce and thus save our nation from the looming societal breakdown and anarchy which was right around the corner with the next generation, Generation Alpha. I mean, besides needing to win at least one argument in my lifetime with that pretty little blond lady, I had to do this to protect not only her, but my children’s, and grandchildren’s futures!
I walked into that board room and looked around at all the business professionals like a knight from Generation X who had been on job sites and seen firsthand just how bad the Millennials and Generation Z were. As I sat down, I wondered why each of these board members chose to serve and if any of them would join me on my noble quest to save this great nation of ours from all these horrid generations, including the worst one of them all, Generation Alpha!
The meeting began with introductions, then financials, then an overview of the programs offered, and the schools served by Junior Achievement in our area. It was with this last bit of information I realized I was not an idiot because Junior Achievement was the correct portal to reach Generation Alpha before they spawned from high school and tore the very fabric of our society apart. This was because Junior Achievement had over a century of experience mentoring our youth. That is right, this organization was formed in 1919, and had provided positive mentoring programs for our nation’s youth ever since its inception. Still one thing still haunted me about this organization and that was how they messed up so badly with all those damned hippies! Even with that failure on their resume, Junior Achievement had more experience than anyone else as they had mentored and instructed every generation of American school children beginning with the Greatest Generation! It was with this knowledge I knew my quest would be a success; and with each successive board meeting I studied how other companies and mentors were using Junior Achievement to reach out to students across America. Then, after about six months of watching, listening, and learning, I finally felt I was prepared enough and decided to give of my and my company’s most precious resource, our time, to reach this next generation. Looking back at my ignorant adventure, I realize I chose wisely, and because of my wise choice I, too, could be the hero everyone was holding out for, just like Ren.
THE THORAZINE SHUFFLE
I can’t think of one hero who didn’t experience monumental challenges along their way to greatness, and mine began almost immediately when I decided to volunteer in an actual school. You see, I believed I needed to be mentoring and educating seniors in high school to best ward off societal collapse, but fate and school counselors had other plans for me. And thus, my first challenge as a hero became an 8th grade classroom – which I was shocked to learn would be full of 8th graders! Bravely, I charged headfirst into this challenge knowing I needed to see firsthand just how bad Generation Alpha was, because a hero must know his enemy if he is to defeat it.
It was early in the spring when I excitedly and nervously entered a middle school carrying bags of personal finance lessons from Junior Achievement. As I checked into the office, I found myself wondering just how challenging this could be? After all, I myself had attended three different junior high schools and had also successfully gotten my three children through junior high. I quickly realized how wrong I was and that a lot had changed, especially 8th gradefashion. Gone were the blue jeans and three-quarter sleeve Journey and REO Speedwagon concert t-shirts of my generation, and in were Crocs, shorts, and hoodies. Generation Alpha was just like the fashion faux pas helpers of Generation Z!
The next change I noticed was hardly any of these junior high students made eye contact with each other. They simply walked around lackadaisically with their heads down in a manner reminiscent of the Thorazine Shuffle from “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” This lack of eye contact was even more pronounced in the ones who had hoodies pulled over their heads. Don’t think I am exaggerating, they actually looked like they were those tranquilized and nearly catatonic patients from the mental institutions of old. Thinking back to my experiences at West Thibodaux Junior High, Haynes Middle School, and the Ibiza English Expat school, I found their lack of eye contact not only strange, but also very dangerous. It seemed dangerous because of the hard-fought lessons learned by those of us from Generation X; lessons that had obviously not been passed down to these Zombies. These poor students clearly didn’t understand the very real danger they were in by not making eye contact! Those of us in Gen X knew lack of eye contact was a sign of weakness that would ultimately lead to something as disgusting as a wet willie, a noogie – which is well known as the main cause of male pattern baldness – or worst of all, a knuckle punch to the bicep that came with two more if you dared flinch! Furthermore, depending on the season, there was also the very real danger of a finger flick to one’s ice-cold ear lobe, and thus the need to maintain eye contact at all times!
As we rounded the corner to the hallway where our classroom was located, I noticed a young man who was a glimmer of hope as he immediately made eye contact with us. As our eyes met, I thought, “Maybe this superpower of his would allow him to become the future leader of his generation and with such a great leader our society would finally be safe from its’ imminent demise.” The coach, whose class we were to be instructing, however, destroyed my hopes and dreams of future societal bliss with one simple question, “Why are you out here standing in the hallway?” “The teacher kicked me out because I couldn’t stop singing “Old McDonald,” humanities hope for survival replied. There it was, we hadn’t even made it into the classroom, and I was realizing Generation Z was right, and these Generation Alpha kids were sure to lead to the degradation of society. We continued past ‘Old McDonald’ and finally arrived safely in the classroom, set up our lesson, and waited for our first class of Generation Alpha students to Thorazine shuffle their way in.
The bell rang and I was not amazed at all as they shuffled in, heads down barely noticing something was different that day, however, we were well prepared as we had been trained by Junior Achievement. In this training, the JA facilitators had told us these kids were the products of the lockdowns and remote learning. They had shared with us these were the COVID kids who were forced into isolation without much peer-to-peer in person interaction for over a year. Yet, even armed with this knowledge, there was still something that alarmed me, and it was a peculiar growth protruding from the base of some of their necks. I asked the coach, “What the heck is that growth?” I guess my comment and confused look, as deformity after spinal deformity walked through the door, was clue enough for the coach to dispel my fear. He replied, “Don’t worry about it, it’s just the de-evolution of the C-7 vertebrae from them staring down all day at I Phones, tablets, and handheld video games.” Then hope once again rang clear when one student actually looked up noticing me, my co-instructor, and the free Junior Achievement swag bracelets we had out on the table and asked, “Are those for us?” I replied, “Yes, please feel free to take one and head to your seat.” And with that one comment and a pile of JA swag bracelets, all their heads came up, and one by one I noticed that they were still quite human. It was with this realization I remembered a Natural Geographic article about the resiliency of humans, and it was with the knowledge of human resilience I knew they could be taught.
DOCTOR DOOM AND FROSTY THE SNOWMAN
My co-instructor and I spent our first day instructing five separate classes of 8th grade students in their first lesson of Junior Achievement personal finance and you know what, it wasn’t that bad. Sure, a few kids were sent to the office over the course of the day, but hey, that happened when I was their age as well. And as the day wore on, a calm of sorts came over me as I realized most of these Gen Alphas were well mannered, attentive, and generally interested in everything we had to share.
Unfortunately, about the time my mind and body eased, the calm that was about me was shattered with a voice that came from the back of the room. It was a voice I had not known long, but ironically, it was a voice I knew well. That horrible old feeling came over me rapidly as I realized regardless of all the hopeful things I had seen thus far, our nation was still on the precipice of impending doom. The voice I noticed, Mr. Doom, was none other than “Old McDonald” himself who was still yapping away about his favorite song. Not wanting to lose any forward progress we had made, we promptly shared with the class that work was much like school in that how they chose to participate had a direct reflection on how they would succeed. I then shared, “The first bit of advice I will give you is that in the real world musically talented ‘Old McDonald’ singers always ended up in the unemployment line.” With that simple explanation, that small bit of mentoring, they all sat up a little taller in their seats and our nation seemed to teeter back, ever so slightly away from its’ precipice of impending doom.
I quickly realized, just like Frosty the Snowman’s top hat, there must have been some magic in those Junior Achievement bracelets they found, because once they placed them on their wrists they began to settle down! Yes, the classes of Gen Alpha students we instructed that day all came to life and shared their hopes and dreams with us. Most of them even seemed well prepared and looked forward to entering college and/or the workforce, which was only four short years away. Over six short weeks, I found myself blessed to be instructing and mentoring a future naval aviator, some chefs, an engineer whom I promptly referred to as “sir” as we all end up working for engineers in one way or another, a few doctors, a couple of nurses, some welders, a fellow writer, an artist, a rather vertically-challenged professional basketball player, a future U.S. Men’s soccer player ready to lead our nation to its first world cup, several beauticians, and a very humble young man who by week five said, “You mean I don’t have to be a gardener?” “No sir, you can be anything you set your mind to and work hard at becoming,” I replied. “Then I want to be a construction manager,” he proudly proclaimed! It was with that statement I knew all was going to be right with our nation as I felt us move back further, well away from our precipice of doom.
IF NOT THE ALPHA’S, THEN WHOSE FAULT? THE HIPPIES?
Over six Fridays, these classrooms full of Generation Alphas I was instructing were actually teaching me. And what they taught me was we have been wrong for generations, wrong for blaming each successive generation for the degradation of the American workforce. They taught me if Generation Alpha was supposed to be the laziest, most incompetent generation of them all, then we are going to all be ok. These classes of 8th grade kids, even the ones who had initially been kicked out, eventually all participated and taught me our pending societal collapse was not the fault of just one generation of Americans. They taught me it was all our fault, each and every one of our proceeding generations. It wasn’t easy to admit, but I knew they were right, and it was us from the proceeding generations who haven’t taken the time to mentor the next generations. I knew it was, and still is, the fault of all of us who do not take the time to speak with and understand the hopes and dreams of the next generation. I knew it was, and still is, the fault of each of us from the proceeding generations who chose to ridicule and complain, rather than mentor and motivate, that our American workforce is in the condition it is in.
Over six Fridays, I learned I hadn’t taken the time to speak to the successive generations and explain they didn’t have to be the best high school students to succeed in life. You see I knew something that would have been helpful to so many of them, a lesson of life that was taught to me by a former tradesman of mine. This tradesman called one day saying, “Can you please put me on the layoff list at the end of this job?” His request left me sitting there struggling to understand what we did wrong as a company to cause this very good employee to want to leave us. Before I could ask why, he continued by explaining, “I start medical school in the fall.” And with the eloquence of a construction manager, I replied “No crap, when did this come about?” “Sir, I have been going to night school and have recently been accepted into medical school,” he replied.
I stood there in that 8th grade classroom as a volunteer with Junior Achievement thinking back on that day and realizing I had held the answer to fix the degradation of the American workforce for decades, and it was mentoring. And what happened to that skilled tradesman of ours? He entered medical school soon afterward, he received his layoff and still, every summer he returned to the wonderful world of construction to make enough money to carry him through the next two semesters of classes. Four years later he became a doctor, showing me a path to save this great nation of ours, but even armed with this knowledge it still took Generation Alpha to show me I needed to share his courage and fortitude with everyone I speak to about life’s choices and careers.
It’s funny how the words courage and fortitude were never used to describe any generation after The Greatest Generation, yet it has been courage and fortitude each successive generation of Americans has shown that helped move our country forward in prosperity. It is courage and fortitude I witnessed over and over again from the young men and women of Generation Alpha as they participated in learning about personal finance and careers through six lessons taught by us two Junior Achievement volunteers.
A FIELD OF DREAMS
Like many things in life, this quest of mine is not over, as there is simply no way two people mentoring students of five classes from one eighth-grade class, of one school, will solve our nation’s woes. Ashamedly, at times my revelation that our industry and our nation are no longer on the precipice of doom is still being challenged. However, the naysayers do not impede my quest because I too, was once someone who thought 83 million IT Technicians would surely be the end of us. If anything, those nay sayers have only encouraged me to expand my quest to include purposeful recruitment and retention efforts to help solve our industry’s woes. Still, I have wondered how I was going to build on my initial success and how I could reach students who were already juniors and seniors and hadn’t had the pleasure of being mentored and instructed by Junior Achievement volunteers?
It’s a funny thing how a plate of onion rings always comes around to haunt you in more ways than just your waistband. Soon after the conclusion of my very first Junior Achievement mentoring experience, my onion ring, trap-baiting friend gave his wife my cell number so she could reach out to me with yet another unique opportunity. We were travelling in our SUV when the call came in and this high school counselor began to speak. “Be careful you idiot,” that pretty little blond lady mouthed at me. The funny thing is, I could have interpreted her mouthed words as anything such as, “You are a god amongst mortals,” or “My goodness I am proud of the man you have become,” but I knew deep down she was once again trying to protect my most valuable resource, time. Our conversation continued and it quickly became obvious this counselor was coming for the same thing that pretty little blond lady was trying to protect – my time. Through flattery, pomp, and circumstance she finally got to the point and asked if I would be interested in participating in their upcoming career fair. Now I had never participated in a career fair, and with all of my adventurous idiocy I said, “How hard could it be? After all, they are just juniors and seniors in high school, hardly having enough life experiences to battle against a seasoned warrior like me!”
After accepting, I did the next logical thing and went to work to ask for help. Several of us put our heads together, started a recruiting email, built a set of guidelines, and pulled together some leftover company-logoed swag, minus the beer koozies. HR even decided to help and pulled together a presentation. On the day of the career fair, two of us left armed with a brand new company-logoed tablecloth, a television to show our presentation on loop, recruiting business cards, stress ball hard hats, company logo sunglasses, pens, and pencils. Upon arrival, we saw the United States Marine Corps setting up their pull-up bar challenge. I was happy to see our nation’s armed forces there as they once took me in after high school, but sad we had no crayons with which to feed the Marines. Leaving behind two hungry Marines, we continued to our area, a little nervous, but certain that regardless of how prepared we thought we were, we would still observe others and learn so we could be better prepared for the next opportunity to mentor.
Amazingly, just like the iconic movie line spoken in the 1989 movie, “Field of Dreams,” “If you build it, they will come,” we built it, and they came. Or should I say the school counselors built it, invited businesses to participate, and the students came. Yes, they came, and in droves. We met graduating seniors as well as juniors who were both excited, yet still a little scared, of their next phase of life. We met people who wanted a trade such as an electrician, and others who just wanted a way out of their current situation. Yes, the tail end of Generation Z showed up in force and they were a force to be reckoned with. They moved from table to table speaking to colleges, universities, the different military branches, trade schools, HVAC companies, crane companies, plumbers, game wardens, police officers, and most importantly, us. We observed absolutely none of the stereotypical, “no one wants work,” attitude and just like those 8th graders, we learned as much from them as they did from us.
Most importantly, this next generation of the American workforce shared with us what it would take to get their attention and hold it long enough to hear our recruitment pitch. Armed with the education I received that day, I sprang into action and on Amazon ordered some Cool Dude sunglasses and snap bracelets, logoed of course, as well as a large quantity of sticky hands. Our swag arrived just in time, and we were ready for the next career fairs being held at four other area high schools. I invited my peers along knowing this quest was too big for just me, and some came, but most were naysayers who said this next generation of kids were soft and didn’t want to work. Little did they know my uncles had once said this about me, my Pawpaw said it about them, and I had said it about the Millennials. Little did they know I had heard this attitude as far back as I could remember when supervisors said all they wanted from a worker was a strong back and weak mind. It was an improper attitude then, and it still is today. I had thought this type of attitude would have died out with the dinosaur managers of the past, yet somehow it stubbornly is still prevalent in our industries. Kudos, however, to those peers of mine who joined my quest, because man did, they catch fire quickly. They accepted and participated in the idea we need to mentor and motivate. They understood it is not the successive generation’s fault because they only know what they know. One peer from the company I work for even said, “This is great, please invite me along anytime you need help because this is going to work!”
LET’S RIGHT THIS SHIP
In closing, I, for one, am someone who has nostalgia for the past, but still am glad I did not have to serve and fight on wooden ships alongside iron men. Yes, I am proud of those who paved the way for me to succeed in the American workforce, but I am disappointed knowing the level of volunteerism with ones’ time continues to decline year after year. It is only through volunteerism that we can right our ship, whether it is made of wood or steel. So, whether it’s Junior Achievement, ACE Mentoring, This One’s for The Girls, HELP, or so many other volunteer organizations out there, we all need to show up and mentor.
Standing there in that 8th grade class when that young man said he wanted to be a construction manager meant something to me. I felt a sense of pride I had reached him, and my mind raced back in time, but not to Footloose, no, this time it raced back to Haynes Junior High School. When I was in 8th grade, and my classmates and I walked into one of our classes where a businessman in a grey suit leaned up against the teacher’s desk and greeted us. He was a Junior Achievement volunteer who showed up with a large box of Snickers bars he was going to use to teach us how investments worked. I took my one Snickers bar and put it in the bank because I didn’t want to lose it. However, that is not the point I am trying to make. The point I am getting at is I don’t remember much about that day, such as what I was wearing, what my other classes taught, but I do vividly remember that adventurous idiot Junior Achievement volunteer in his grey suit who shared with me, someone he didn’t even know, his most precious resource – time!
