*sigh*
Rollo, I wish I could talk to myself when I was 16, or 15.
My mother worked nights, my father lived 2200 miles away, so I came home to an empty house after school since I was 13. Perhaps that was my only savior: chores. I had to be responsible because I had a barn full animals depending on me. I cooked meals for myself, did my own laundry, and essentially lived on my own - just without the bills. I got a couple high school jobs, but nothing with much "career" potential.
As for school, well, I got royally screwed. I was in advanced placement courses 2 years ahead of my grade in sciences and mathematics. I was taking Freshman Algebra in 7th grade... then my mother moved and I started at another school. This new school didn't have advanced placement because there were only 23 kids in my class! At parent/teacher conference time, teachers would explain to my mother that I just stare out the window or sleep through the classes. Well, duh! The sh¡t was seriously boring the hell out of me! Essentially, I coasted through school.
You know... you just don't know things until you know. To entertain myself, I took extra Science electives, extra Math electives, Spanish, Home Economics, Accounting, and loaded my electives to the max. I didn't have a study hall my freshman or sophmore years! Anyway, halfway through my Senior year, the newest (there was a new one every year) guidance counsellor called me in her office and pointed out to me that I had enough credits to have had graduated halfway through my Junior year... but that it was too late because I hadn't taken Senior required courses ahead of time.
Uh, so, I could have graduated after 2 1/2 years of High School? Thanks for telling me NOW! I lost my appetite for school.
Well, to make matters worse, my brother commited suicide and my best friend died in a car accident. My "LTR" and I broke up, and she got knocked up by her next guy. Needless to say, I was an emotional wreck. And, it's not a good time to not have a father around during so much trauma, and during formulative years. As you could probably guess, I was a "troubled teen". I was into all sorts of nasty sh¡t, and I got into some trouble with the law.
Then the recruiter showed up at my school.
AlphaSoldier said:
You need some direction in life. And there's a place that can give it to you: the ARMY. For sure, you could be packed and sent to Iraq, but I'd say that this is what you really need now: a drill-instructor yelling at you and kicking you in the ass.
AlphaSoldier
Now, I'm no dummy. I could see right through the recruiter's hype. In fact, I told the guy, "Save the pitch, sir, I want to know (x, y, z)."
After a brief look at my situation, and the rest of the facts surrounding my life, I figured I might as well be self-destructive in a reconstructive way.
I joined the Army.
I'll never forget sitting down in front of the Major at in-processing.
Major: "So, what do you want to be?"
V:
*catatonic, a million miles away in thought, confused, for an awkward amount of time*
(Noone had asked me, or, I had never seriously given it any actual thought. Sure, I had, I was pretty determined to be a mechanical engineer... but that wasn't what he was asking. The way he asked, the tone sounded like "tell me now, you MUST decide". I had no idea what was going on: I was in shock. I was being held accountable for making a concrete decision about my future. :nervous
Major: "Vulpine?"
V: "Uh... sir?"
Major: "What do you want to
do?"
(Nope, I still wasn't getting it. In fact, he confused me even more. What do you want to be and what do you want to do are two different things, and in the context, I didn't really have an answer for either.)
V: "Um...
...sir, I'm afraid I don't know exactly what you are asking."
Major: *chuckles* "OoooH... here I was thinking... nevermind. Ok, here's the deal: you scored so high on the ASVAB tests that you can be anything you want to be."
V: "Anything?"
Major: "For your job in the Army, anything except one."
(Now it made sense, I had to
do something specific in the Army... thanks for explaining that recruiter dude!)
V: "Which one is that?"
Major: "Army intelligence."
V: "Hmm... I guess I should have actually
tried on those tests, huh?"
Major: *laughs*
V: "Ok, well, I get it. I know this is going to sound like a pain-in-the-ass question, but I'd like you to help me decide. What
CAN I be?
Major: *spins computer monitor around and starts scrolling "job listings"*
...
V: "Ooh! What's this?" *point*
Major: "Twenty-Five Quebec: Graphic Documentation Specialist..."
V: "Is there a description?"
Major: "Wartime equivalent: attached to headquarters; works with recon/recons in order to create detailed maps; scout, cartographer. Peacetime equivalent: (graphic design, charts/overlays, duplication, pencil & ink drawing, painting, freehand lettering, presentation assistant, etc.)
V: "Hmm... sounds cool. What else?"
(scroll, scroll, scroll)
V: "I think I'm going to do the 25Q thing."
From there, I took a language aptitude battery of tests (DLAB) - smoked it. Cool, I could be a linguist and stuff, too!
So, I did the "25Q thing". I applied myself and graduated with honors (98% course average), for having doing so, my unit nominated me to recieve the Army Acievement medal - which I did receive. Later, I cross-trained with others in the unit as an eighty-eight papa (88P): railway equipment repairman. I smoked the course. On the final exam, they had to throw out several questions because we didn't have the study materials to go from. I got those questions they threw out correct. I graduated with a 103% course average, and received another AAM. I later went on to become an instructor for the 88P course.
Now, the time I was in was during HEAVY downsizing. I had two MOS's, was teaching sergeants, lieutenants, and captains. SO, I automatically qualified for NCO (corporal, sergeant, E5+). In addition, I religiously qualified 40/40 with the M16, qualified expert on the M203 and the M60, and always passed my physical fitness tests with better than average scores.
In a nutshell, I was "locked-and-****ed" as they say. My boots were the shiniest in my platoon, my uniform the sharpest, my brass was the shiniest. I had a lot of pride. I jumped up to E-4, specialist, within my first two years or service. I was going places and excelling at soldiering. I was frequently elected for extra duties such as honor guard, parades, funerals, and other mission-oriented tasks that required "excellent skills" (can't get long-winded).
But, I was stuck at E-4 for the next 6 years because of the down-sizing.
There were just so many positions available with just so many units, so I didn't have many options...
Now, for the civilian types that don't understand the lingo, let me break it down: I had a job at which I hit a glass ceiling after two years, then, wasn't promoted or have any raises for the next 6, regardless of my superior performance in my area of expertise. Since I was under contract, I couldn't just say, "Screw you guys, I'm going to get another job." I was neglected as an employee. Training and schooling wasn't available to me because of a lack of funds, so I was completely dead-ended. If I could be better, I would have explored those avenues.
The point of all this?
I never had a father around. The interaction with Major at the in-processing station was the single most "fatherly" experience I had ever had. The next? My Drill Sergeant teaching a group of us how to shave.
I would certainly recommend the service, mainly the Marines or Army, to any "fatherless" youth. You WILL learn how to be a man. Of course, I would recommend a job/MOS that only carried a 2 year contract though. Mine was for 8: they weren't going to put a guy through a year of training for only a year of service afterwards.
I say "learn to be a man", but what I mean is learn to be self-reliant/self-sufficient, self-motivated, and accountable/responsible. Of course, for matters of emotion/priority/thought process, you'll still have to still undo the damage to your manhood that your mother has done. But, since you've found SoSuave, you're well on your way.
So what about now?
Got out of Army>started going to school>got a job using graphics training to support myself through school>found out from a long-time mechanical engineer that the market was flooded and the job was starting at $10 an hour for new graduates>I got screwed at school again>figured "this is stupid, I'm making $15.50 already... I can't trust that a mechanical engineer will EVER pay better, not with corporate money machines the way the are, no sense in bothering with metallurgy/physics/trig/chem/calc>punted the school concept and focused on graphics career>kept "railway equipment repairman/engineer" as a plan B>focused on quality of life and future>stopped exposing my self/leaving myself vulnerable to screwings over.
I kick myself, now, because I found there were other options presented to me while I was in the Army. At 25, I had 8 years. I could have retired after 20 years and collected checks from the government: 12 more years? That would have meant I'd be retired at 32! Right now!
Screwed again.
It's no small wonder I have adopted an attitude of "there's more to life than your career". It's not because I have a "victim mentality", no, I have a mentality of "some things are genuinely worth your attention moreso than others: must have your priorties".
I screwed myself by not having my priorities straight from the start. The Major
ALMOST got me there when he asked "What do you want to
BE."
What I want to be has nothing to do with what I want to do.
