Today, my son learned an important lesson about breaking things. Shortly after I arrived home from work, I changed clothes and went in the back yard to play with my kids. Thomas, in his usual act before he thinks temperament, decided to go to the front yard, take one of pumpkins destined for carving and bring it to the back yard. He then proceeded to toss the pumpkin from the deck multiple times until it broke in two.
We had bought three pumpkins for three kids so each could carve one for Halloween. Since Thomas broke one of those, the only just consequence I could see was that he would be unable to carve a pumpkin. I told him this and of course he broke down sobbing. After a couple minutes and brief conversation with my wife, we came up with an alternative. He could choose not to carve a pumpkin or he could pay for a new pumpkin from his own money. He, of course, did not like this choice. After crying for a couple minutes and tackling his sister out of frustration, he stormed up to his room. We did not hear from him in almost ten minutes. Worried that he was venting is frustrations in a silently destructive manner (not an unknown with Thomas), I went up to see how he was doing. He had closed his bedroom door and moved his toy chest in front of it. When I tried to open it, he yelled at me that he wanted to be left alone. So I let him have his space. About ten minutes later, Thomas came down stairs and handed me the money for a new pumpkin! BREAKTHROUGH!!! He finally, finally, finally accepted responsibility for his behavior. He had gone upstairs to think and he (as far as I can tell) realized he was at fault for the smashed pumpkin. He was willing to forgo a new toy in order to replace the pumpkin. When he came down, he did not complain any more and wanted to go with me to the grocery store to pick a new one.
All in all, a good end to what could have been an ugly day.
Make better decisions now! In this blog, I share my thoughts on my central purpose in life: to teach others how to make better decisions, specifically in designing, building, maintaining, and using information systems. I review books, explain scientific research, discuss philosophy, talk about education, and share my own experiences on how to make the best decisions for living a happy successful life.
10.27.2010
10.01.2010
Career versus family
If you were to take any time to watch me throughout my day, you would probably think that I am a typical family man. I average 40 hour work weeks, except in the summer when I sometimes cut it down to 30 or less. Many Fridays, I cut out of work early to spend extra time with my family. On the weekends, I spend a large amount of time with my family. We go to sport practices and play in the backyard. We go on bike rides together. I read them books and they play tackle the daddy. I take them sledding in the winter and swimming in the summer. We make dinner a family meal every evening. I cherish the time I spend with my wife and kids. So it may come as a surprise to some, as a recent comment did on my hierarchy of values post, that I rate my career higher in value than my family.
Let me explain why.
To me, my career is not just my current job. My career is a long-term productive interest that culminates in my central purpose in life. It is something that motivates me to get up in the morning and challenges throughout the day. In 2003, I decide after many months of introspection and research, that I wanted a career as an academic. I made this decision before I had children or even knew my wife. Shortly after I met my soon to be wife, I informed her that my career path was going to take me far away from St. Louis. It was unlikely that I would be accepted to a grad program in St. Louis or that I would find an academic position near there. However much I loved her and wanted to marry her, I did not and could not give up that part of me. I was fully willing to manage a long distance relationship, if that was the our path, but I certainly wanted her with me. A month before I left for grad school, we were married and I was fortunate enough that she came with me.
After 4 years of grad school, three multi-state moves, and 3 kids later, we are now comfortably living in Michigan. Throughout that period, I managed 40 hour work weeks (for the most part) in study, research, teaching, and other jobs. I rarely budged on that practice because my career was that important to me. However, after that 40 hours of often times intense work, I want to spend a good chunk of the remainder of my time with my family.
Two common objections to choosing career over family center on the needs and wants of others (namely your spouse and/or kids) or the possibility of emergencies demanding a change in careers. What would I do if my wife wanted to pursue her career goals? What would I do if my kids' school play was at the same time as an important meeting? What if my wife became deathly ill? And my answer would be without hesitation to support her decision, to foster my children's dreams, and to care for her, regardless of the effects on my job. The difference is that I do not equate my job with my career. Certainly, my career entails various jobs, but my job is not synonymous with my career. I can change jobs, rearrange schedules, and take a leave of absence. If my wife chose a career that carried us to a different city, I would continue my career in that city. If my wife wanted to go back to school, I would wholeheartedly support her even if that meant spending more time at home caring for the kids. If one of my kids was in a play that conflicted with my work, I would put the child first. If my wife became ill, I would take as much time off of work that was necessary to care for her. My career is amendable and can even be put on hold. And while I have many ambitions, they can wait (and often do have to wait as I have far more possible projects that I could pursue than time in a day.)
What I would not do is continue down a path where that I could no longer pursue my passions. If my wife wanted to move to a remote jungle forest, I would not follow. If my kids demanded I stay home or that I follow (or drive) them everywhere, I would tell them no. Not only for the immediate practical concern of income, but from the personal satisfaction I get from working. This job makes me happy. I will not give it up. While my family makes me happy as well, they are individuals who want to pursue their own values. I let them and they let me. We share our successes and commiserate our failures. While we do things for each other and with each other, its our productive passions that drive us as adults. Anything less is unacceptable.
Ultimately, I see the two values of career and family as complimentary, not conflicting, but our careers are the primary driver of happiness. Living a life doing something other than this career would be a life half lived. My wife and to some extent my kids understand how important my career is for me and do not ask me to give it up for their sake. I would certainly not ask them too. My wife, whose current career is taking care of our children, may choose to pursue another career in a few years. When she does, we will negotiate a means of caring for the children, caring for our house, and caring for each other in such a way that we can both achieve our ends and still be happy. While there may be changes, delays, postponements, temporary set-backs, and even emergencies, pursuing our passions must come first. Approaching life with reason allows us to overcome issues in time and resource management.
And this, my friends, is how I apply Ayn Rand's conception of rational selfishness. We should all strive to be happy in our lives. And having an appropriate hierarchy of values allows happiness to flourish.
Let me explain why.
To me, my career is not just my current job. My career is a long-term productive interest that culminates in my central purpose in life. It is something that motivates me to get up in the morning and challenges throughout the day. In 2003, I decide after many months of introspection and research, that I wanted a career as an academic. I made this decision before I had children or even knew my wife. Shortly after I met my soon to be wife, I informed her that my career path was going to take me far away from St. Louis. It was unlikely that I would be accepted to a grad program in St. Louis or that I would find an academic position near there. However much I loved her and wanted to marry her, I did not and could not give up that part of me. I was fully willing to manage a long distance relationship, if that was the our path, but I certainly wanted her with me. A month before I left for grad school, we were married and I was fortunate enough that she came with me.
After 4 years of grad school, three multi-state moves, and 3 kids later, we are now comfortably living in Michigan. Throughout that period, I managed 40 hour work weeks (for the most part) in study, research, teaching, and other jobs. I rarely budged on that practice because my career was that important to me. However, after that 40 hours of often times intense work, I want to spend a good chunk of the remainder of my time with my family.
Two common objections to choosing career over family center on the needs and wants of others (namely your spouse and/or kids) or the possibility of emergencies demanding a change in careers. What would I do if my wife wanted to pursue her career goals? What would I do if my kids' school play was at the same time as an important meeting? What if my wife became deathly ill? And my answer would be without hesitation to support her decision, to foster my children's dreams, and to care for her, regardless of the effects on my job. The difference is that I do not equate my job with my career. Certainly, my career entails various jobs, but my job is not synonymous with my career. I can change jobs, rearrange schedules, and take a leave of absence. If my wife chose a career that carried us to a different city, I would continue my career in that city. If my wife wanted to go back to school, I would wholeheartedly support her even if that meant spending more time at home caring for the kids. If one of my kids was in a play that conflicted with my work, I would put the child first. If my wife became ill, I would take as much time off of work that was necessary to care for her. My career is amendable and can even be put on hold. And while I have many ambitions, they can wait (and often do have to wait as I have far more possible projects that I could pursue than time in a day.)
What I would not do is continue down a path where that I could no longer pursue my passions. If my wife wanted to move to a remote jungle forest, I would not follow. If my kids demanded I stay home or that I follow (or drive) them everywhere, I would tell them no. Not only for the immediate practical concern of income, but from the personal satisfaction I get from working. This job makes me happy. I will not give it up. While my family makes me happy as well, they are individuals who want to pursue their own values. I let them and they let me. We share our successes and commiserate our failures. While we do things for each other and with each other, its our productive passions that drive us as adults. Anything less is unacceptable.
Ultimately, I see the two values of career and family as complimentary, not conflicting, but our careers are the primary driver of happiness. Living a life doing something other than this career would be a life half lived. My wife and to some extent my kids understand how important my career is for me and do not ask me to give it up for their sake. I would certainly not ask them too. My wife, whose current career is taking care of our children, may choose to pursue another career in a few years. When she does, we will negotiate a means of caring for the children, caring for our house, and caring for each other in such a way that we can both achieve our ends and still be happy. While there may be changes, delays, postponements, temporary set-backs, and even emergencies, pursuing our passions must come first. Approaching life with reason allows us to overcome issues in time and resource management.
And this, my friends, is how I apply Ayn Rand's conception of rational selfishness. We should all strive to be happy in our lives. And having an appropriate hierarchy of values allows happiness to flourish.
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