David McElroy

making sense of a dysfunctional culture

jobs

If you’re out of place somewhere, nobody’s going to be very happy

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I was still 21 years old when I hired someone for the first time. I failed miserably.

I had just been promoted to managing editor of a small daily newspaper and one of my first tasks was to fill the job I had just vacated as sports editor. I felt very confident that I’d make a good hire.

OK, let’s be honest. I was young and full of myself. I knew what I was doing, unlike those who had come before me. I wouldn’t hire some dork with no talent. (We had a couple of those.) I was going to hire the best.

When I went through resumes and read the candidates’ previous work, one guy stood out. Danny was a great writer. His copy was crisp and fun to read. He had just finished his graduate degree in journalism and would obviously be working at a bigger paper soon with some experience. After an interview, I hired him.

It was an absolute disaster.

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Are you living the life you wanted when everything seemed possible?

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I doubt anybody grows up wanting to be a garbage man. Or an accountant. Or a medical billing coder.

There might be a few. Maybe some kids thought riding on a garbage truck was the coolest thing they had ever seen. Maybe some math-obsessed kids thought it would be amazing to spend all day running numbers through spreadsheets.

When we were kids, most of us had things we thought we wanted to do when we grew up, even if many of those things were impractical. When I was very young, I wanted to be captain of a starship, just like my only hero, Capt. James T. Kirk. In an era of frequent rocket launches and trips to the moon, it seemed possible to me.

Then I wanted to be an engineer and inventor. I’ve told you about these before. I progressed through law and ministry and several other things. I was certain that I would one day be president of the United States. I was incredibly excited about my future. I wanted to do and be everything. I was going to change the world.

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If we disrespect skilled trades, we’re ignorant and arrogant fools

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As I walked into Lowe’s tonight, I realized I was too ignorant to even ask for the part by its name. Was it a socket? A plug-in doohickey? Or “the stuff under where the plug goes”?

I don’t remember what I called it now, but a couple of employees looked puzzled until one of them realized what I wanted and directed me to Aisle 12. After wandering that aisle and confirming how hopelessly ignorant I was with these parts, a nice fellow shopper asked what I was looking for. She directed me to the right place — on Aisle 13, it turned out — and advised me about which one to buy.

I was completely out of my element and it made me feel shame and regret — not for the first time — about the utter disdain which I used to have toward people who did the sort of blue-collar work which I looked down upon.

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