Recently, I came across a
video of a commencement speech given by Jim Carrey. In an uncharacteristically serious tone, he gave some rather inspiring words of wisdom to the graduates:
"So many of us choose our path out of fear disguised as practicality. What we really want seems impossibly out of reach and ridiculous to expect, so we never dare to ask the universe for it. I’m saying, I’m the proof that you can ask the universe for it. My father could have been a great comedian but he didn’t believe that was possible for him. So he made a conservative choice – instead he got a safe job as an accountant. And when I was 12 years old he was let go from that safe job. And our family had to do whatever we could do to survive. I learned many great lessons from my father – not the least of which is that you can fail at what you don’t want [to do]. So you might as well take a chance at doing what you love."
Carrey's inspirational challenge is one that I can certainly appreciate in many respects. Upon graduating from high school, I pursued what I loved – art. When I discovered the value of philosophy – I sold everything I owned and moved across the country to pursue further education in the discipline (twice). Even now, as a teacher, I encourage my students to do big things and to pursue their dreams. But after considering the evolution of my own life and career, as well as the various paths my students have taken, like Carrey, my thoughts turn to my dad – particularly this past Father’s Day weekend.
My dad worked at the same chemical plant across four decades. I’ve never asked him (I don’t need to), but I’m sure he didn’t
love his job. I’m sure he didn’t lay awake at night as a young boy dreaming about the day he would get to build scaffolds up the sides of processing units in the sweltering heat of Texas Gulf Coast summers. I’m sure he didn’t find his identity from working graveyard shifts amidst hazardous materials. And while it is clear from the video that Carrey has a great deal of affection and respect for his father, I wonder if his comments aren’t somewhat patronizing, if not condescending. He doles out a couple of backhanded compliments to his dad for making “conservative” choices – “safe” choices. And then he offers himself up as victorious “proof” that, by asking the universe, everyone can attain their dreams. But it seems to me that it was not only Carrey's talent, resolve or the universe that somehow made his dreams possible – but rather his
father’s sacrifices.
Since Carrey’s father presumably made such tough decisions to ensure the well-being of his family, why label his sacrifices “conservative” and “safe”? Why does he not, instead, recognize his father as brave and selfless? After all, if his dad was as talented as Carrey says he was, did he not
risk his own future success? Such selflessness doesn’t seem safe or conservative to me.
I agree with Carrey that it can be a bad thing to make decisions out of fear – the crippling kind that keeps us from doing what we
ought to do. The kind that keeps us from things that are actually
good for us. But is the decision not to speed through a red light based on safe and conservative
fear? Or because we
love the life, family and friends that have been given to us? Perhaps it is Carrey’s either/or scenario that’s the problem here – particularly because it doesn't leave any room for the exercise of wisdom in the face of risk.
Should we
love our jobs? I think, yes and no. Some are fortunate enough to have jobs they love without trampling their family and personal character, but I doubt that most of us should expect this. This is not to say that anything else is a lesser form of existence – as if working hard and making a living to provide for your family is somehow selling yourself short. I suppose we can “love” our jobs as we love
any means to an end – with balance and perspective. I love barbecue, but not in the same way that I love my wife.
My dad is the hardest working man I have ever known – a real man’s man. But unlike the workaholic – my dad wasn’t controlled by his career or his unfulfilled aspirations. If my dad “loved” his job at all, it is only because it afforded him the resources to provide for his family; to make it possible for my mom to stay at home and raise her babies; to take us on summer vacations; to coach my little league sports teams; to allow me to attend college; to work for 30 years as a youth pastor in churches too small to pay him; to “adopt” many of my boyhood friends as his own children. These are the things that made him happy –
not having the career of his dreams.
As for me, I guess I “love” what I do as an art director, designer and professor. But I didn’t get here on my own efforts and it certainly wasn’t because I asked the universe for it. My dad (and of course my mom) played much too big of a role for me to misplace the credit in this way. Regardless, I would like to think that – precisely
because of my dad’s influence – if I had never set foot on a college campus, instead, choosing to work a blue-collar job in the hot sun instead of an air-conditioned office, that I’d still have the same perspective on what true happiness and success look like.
Teaching has shown me that many college students don’t know what kind of career will make them happy. After all, it's impossible to predict the future and the kind of career that makes one happy can change as one grows older. I've had several students change careers after dedicating their whole college experience to one particular path. As difficult as this kind of transition can be, the real shame is the destruction often left in the wake of a wagon hitched to a star at all costs. Those who are willing to do anything and everything to obtain the golden ring rarely have their priorities straight. They take risks – not necessarily because it's the
right or
wise thing to do – but because of the potential for great personal reward. And besides, tossing caution and safety to the wind makes for a great story regardless of the outcome. Tales of steadiness, self-sacrifice, faithfulness and wisdom tend to bore us. Likewise, I’ve seen far too many young people "holding out” for the perfect opportunity that’s worthy of their loftiest aspirations. Instead of getting their hands dirty on the
way to obtaining their dreams, they sit around and do nothing. Having grown up in a blue-collar family in a blue-collar town, I cringe when people act as if they’re too good to work fast food or construction – you know, “menial” labor jobs.
There is great honor and significance in doing
any job well, especially when it is done to provide a life for the ones you love. My dad taught me this and I am grateful that I benefited from his selfless sacrifice and generosity. The life he has lived is anything but conservative and safe. He risked his
own happiness for the sake of his family's – and, in the end, he got both.
Happy Father's Day, Dad.
