A recent news article stated that students can no longer prepare for a single career and expect it to last a lifetime. They should anticipate a Job market that will continue to change dramatically. After all, how many computer programmers did we need thirty years ago? And how many taxi or truck drivers are we going to employ thirty years in the future? As technology advances, jobs and careers change.
Last week I shared on this blog the commencement speech I recently delivered to four hundred graduates of the Leventhal School of Accounting at the University of Southern California. It was a treat for me to return to the U.S.C. campus, and in a single afternoon I learned a lot.
I thought I was calm when I spoke until, as we were driving home, Sprite pointed out that I didn’t put on my reading glasses when I delivered my speech.
“You brought three pairs, and asked me to bring two. I thought I was going to have to bring them to you while you were on stage.”
Lesson number one: I was more nervous than I realized.
Lesson number two: Under stress my eyesight improves. Actually, when necessary we can all perform better than we think we can.
I especially enjoyed lunch with Dean Bill Holder and a dozen accounting professors. We talked about how students are different today than they used to be.
“Students try to multi-task, looking at social media on their laptops while appreciating the wisdom of my lecture,” one tenured professor mentioned.
“We have to edit our thoughts to match society’s shorter attention spans,” another professor added.
“Because our students have grown up with the internet, sometimes we have to work to keep up with them,” said a third.
Every generation is different in some respects, and who knows how college students of today will turn out. I suspect they will do well, but I will also say that life today for them, and for all of us, is quite different than it has been. If you don’t know why, then you might still be relying on a rotary telephone on your nightstand, or never shopped online.
The most intriguing part of my experience was shaking hands with the graduates. Some sported flowers on their graduation caps, one man sat in a wheel chair, and a young mother had somehow tucked her baby partly under her gown.
As each graduate was photographed, shaking hands with the Dean, I was struck by the similarity of their broad smiles while appreciating the differences of their personalities.
I looked each graduate in the eyes, said “Congratulations,” and shook hands will all but those few who rushed by me without stopping. Some were shy, several seemed nervous being on stage, but many waved to the audience. Each was clearly a unique individual.
Walking back to my car after the ceremony I remembered my goal when I was in high school – to become a teacher. My two sons are professors, one in the business school at U.C.L.A, the other in the school of pharmacy at U.S.C. One of my daughters teaches law, another trains her students in yoga. I must admit, I’m a bit jealous.
Teaching on a college campus seems to be an enjoyable and fulfilling career, far removed from my daily concerns of competing with other businesses for “shelf space.”
I know that my writing is a type of teaching, but I also know that in following one path we must forego all others. Sometimes I wonder – what if . . .
Alan
I began writing People Tools many years ago so I could share with others the behavioral insights that have helped me to achieve my goals and to live my dreams. Three books and hundreds of blog posts later, I still ask myself a question you too may occasionally ask yourself.
a pretty white horse.” Three years after that the second hermit said, “Twasn’t white. ‘Twas golden.” Five years passed before the third hermit chimed in. “If you two are going to talk so much, I’m leaving.”
I learned to swim when I was five, but wasn’t taught any of the finer points of swimming technique. As an undergraduate it was required that I take a course in swimming. I never considered myself an athlete and the class was difficult for me. Diving off the high board seemed impossible. Whenever we practiced I started at the back of the line and as soon as I neared the rungs of the diving board ladder I’d slip to the back. I never practiced a high dive. Not once.
their lives. They always regret what they haven’t done.