A fellow reader asked a great question the other day. "How do you teach your kids to be bored? Mine hate boredom." It's a great question because it's a timeless complaint parents have heard, magnified in the age of instant gratification and digital entertainment.
The foundation for this answer comes first in communication and cooperation between all child caretakers, be it parents, grandparents, or whoever is watching the child for a reasonable amount of time. Boredom is an itch that everyone wants to scratch. Adults can scratch the itch of boredom for themselves, but kids typically rely on adults to help them scratch it. So if a single adult in the room caters to the child's complaint of boredom and immediately scratches their itch, that adult becomes the path of least resistance, and the child will always go to them in the future. A unified approach is critical to implement good habits.
Once all primary adults are aligned, then the real work begins. The first is to limit how many cheap distractions a kid has. Today's toys are frequently gimmicky and designed to give instant novelty dopamine hits while lacking depth in experimentation. Play with it for 15 minutes, then throw it away and buy something new. It's impossible to avoid all the cheap, gimmicky toys, but my wife and I try to prevent first acquiring and then quietly throwing away any that do make it into the household. With the marketing put out convincing our kids of the imperative nature of owning the latest fad, it's a struggle, and I'm not sure how successful we are, but we at least both acknowledge we should minimize these toys and make an attempt at it.
The best solution to avoiding the gimmick is implementing a chore-based allowance system that puts money into their pockets daily, assuming they complete their chores. Then, they must purchase all the toys they want themselves. They can still buy the gimmicky, but sometimes, explaining how they spent weeks saving up to buy a toy they'll play with for only a single day hits home. It doesn't happen every time, and sometimes they still buy the gimmick, especially our youngest, but over time, it's been sinking in. We are equipping them today with the mental mapping they need to make good purchasing decisions in the future. Prepare them today with insignificant low-cost toys so they are ready in the future when they make large-dollar purchasing decisions.
Instead of those cheap-thrills toys, we try to get longer-lasting toys. Legos do the trick, especially free-forming collections of loose pieces, so the kids have to build from their imagination. Colors (crayons, colored pencils, markers, etc.) and creative supplies are great too. Even the furniture can be creative. We got our kids The Nugget (https://nuggetcomfort.com/), which they use to build forts, go indoor camping, build reading dens, use as a coach, etc. We also like science-based or learning-based toys too. Although those tend to be a single-use experience, they are learning in the process, so it is forgivable. Books are the same way, and the library is a cheap way to get those single-use items, so we take the kids about once a month to renew their literary collections.
In general, we tend to find reasons to purchase these toys ourselves: birthdays and Christmas, treats for doing something well, or any excuse to maintain the system of them buying their toys while bending it to encourage them to get toys we feel are better for them.
Once you've minimized your collection of gadgets and tried to gear it around more complex or creative toys, the next thing is to limit the most dominant must-have instant gratification items. For us, it's screen time, specifically an iPad and Nintendo Switch.
To counter these two, we have a few systems in place. First is that they have to earn their screen time. They must do two screens and two year-round educational activities each day: DuoLingo and Kumon. Both are only 15-30 minutes, so they are manageable daily. The rule is that after they do one of their educational activities, they can use one of their screens. If they've been highly unruly recently, they must do both educational activities before either screen time. Depending on the teacher, homework is a third educational activity they must complete during the school year. They can watch me play the Switch if they complete this third activity.
There are a few reasons why this last way is essential. It's beneficial because although I stopped playing games long ago, it helps me destress to pick up a controller. It's an excellent motivator for me to put down work on days I'm especially swamped. We also play games outside, board games, and do other things, but screen time especially motivates our youngest, so he's guaranteed to be insistent on unlocking this bonding time. But here's another crucial reason why I like them watching me. It teaches them social watching. Exposing them to games they might not usually be interested in is a benefit. Watching someone else click all the buttons while they sit back and observe teaches them patience. My favorite type of game is the story-based RPG game, which typically has a world to explore, so it teaches them good co-piloting skills. I put a world map or dungeon map in front of them, and they direct me to where I need to go. Overall, it is a great bonding exercise.
We now have established a reward system for screen time. Next up is limiting screen time per session. Parental controls make setting up the screen restrictions easy. The iPad and Switch have built-in screen limits, so we set both to 30 minutes. That way, no one has to keep a manual timer. It's all built-in, and when it's over, it's over.
All the prep work is now complete. We've minimized the cheap-thrill gimmicky toys. Instead, we've focused on creative, mind-utilizing, and longer-lasting toys. We've implemented a reward system while putting automated timer limits on their screens. We have to funnel everything into this system, which is the hardest part.
When they come up to us complaining about the itch of boredom, we do not want to scratch it for them. That's the easy solution to appease them and make the complaining disappear. Still, it only teaches them to rely on external toys for entertainment and external people to facilitate them to play with those toys. Instead, we point out and provide suggestions for their creative toys to help spark something to do. If they say no to that, we point out that with a room full of toys and items, if they can't figure out anything to do, we suggest we go through what they have and get rid of things. Fear of losing their gimmicky toys can sometimes motivate them, which, ironically, they never play with but have difficulty getting rid of. If they still need to do their educational activities, we suggest they do those to get the screen times. Sometimes, we only tell them to go into their rooms to figure it out independently. And leave it at that. It sometimes feels like lousy parenting because we ignore their complaints. But it's forcing them to scratch their itch and exercise their creative muscles. After we've told them this, we've often seen our youngest sitting on the bed, staring into nothing. It could be better, but hopefully, something is brewing. At this point, they usually figure something out: reading, napping, colors, or Legos being the current trend.
It's not perfect, nor do we flawlessly execute. But it is gradually working, and over time, it hopefully continues giving the kids the versatility to avoid the easy instant gratification way out of boredom and instead embrace it and channel that energy into something more beneficial.
7.15.2024
7.08.2024
#43 | Empty Promises
I was talking to a leader in a tech startup recently, and they mentioned the levels of uncertainty and insecurity that have recently started popping up in their colleagues. After years of developing and pivoting its product, the startup recently launched its MVP, or minimum viable product.
They are now receiving a lot of interest, seeing sales growth, and a lot of promise in expanding the product beyond the MVP. All are very positive. The predicament they are facing is that after years of developing the product, too many within the company have become somewhat complacent and have lost their fire. They became comfortable with the tinkering and needed to remember the intensity of a do-or-die startup where things are advancing quickly, and the customer is fickle. The product launched, the real work kicked up, and the team is still determining if they can deliver according to the hype and turn things into an enduring company.
Welcome to the startup world!
To solve this uncertainty, I mentioned that the CEO and the other leaders needed to step up their motivational game. The startup was at a possible "go big or go home" moment, so people needed to provide their best energy and execution. There was no time for anything else. But what motivates an average individual employee to do that?
One way is to offer increased compensation. At established companies with large budgets, it can be base salary and bonus increases. At public companies, it can be some form of stock compensation, which has the extended effect of retaining employees until their stocks vest. At newer private companies, especially startups, equity provides upside on a potential exit.
Unfortunately, although everyone might have equity, not everyone will have top-tier equity—maybe not even the top 20% of the company. And if they don't, increasing their equity requires board approval, which would be challenging and potentially unlikely to happen. Any significant or off-cycle base or bonus increase would go through the board if the burn rate and budget even allowed it.
So, I suggested that the CEO and the company's leaders start making empty promises. I do this at work, too, although it is better than it sounds.
Career growth and compensation are naturally frequent topics of discussion within my department. The foundation of my response is similar for everyone. For example, I tell them it's a partnership. I have to make sure they have the right opportunities. They have to execute those opportunities in a way I can sell, and then I have to sell it. I can only do so much if my employees don't reciprocate my efforts.
I also tell them that once we've done the work, I'll do what I can to get them more compensation, a higher rating, or a promotion. But there are a lot of hurdles between them getting their rewards. My peers may back it or contend against it. My boss may accept or reject it. Then, countless other people from HR to finance to others in the direct chain of command might stop it. Perhaps the hurdle is not a person, but the company's performance is lackluster, and that particular performance cycle mirrors it. The company has done well, but the macro-level economics are trending downward. All these things are out of my control and my employee's control.
So what do we do? Give up before we even start?
And this is where the empty promise, or a highly focused promise, comes in. I tell my employees I can't guarantee things I don't control. However, I guarantee that I will work towards giving people the opportunities to grow as an individual and professionally. If they follow my lead and work the process with me, I'll ensure they have exposure to challenging problems, higher-level responsibilities, and growth-expanding experiences. No matter what happens outside our control, I can provide that as long as I still have a job and any form of authority.
From there, I also tell them that if the company or I cannot give them the career growth to match their personal or professional development on the timeline they want, I hold no hard feelings if they find another department or company that will. They must do what they must and shouldn't let anything stop them from their goals. During their growth, they have already paid back the company and myself for whatever value they provided and owe nothing more. Although I hope the company can retain people, sometimes it doesn't happen. I've had plenty of people who have moved on because of this, some of which I still connect and collaborate with.
The situation is the same for personal projects. Instead of setting goals and aspirations that revolve around outcomes out of your control, focus on only things in your control.
The startup's leadership can also address the uncertainty using the same logic. No one can predict whether a startup will succeed or fail. And even if the startup is a success, there are different types of success. Continuously growing so that the individuals can develop their careers is a success for the startup. Everyone being laid off immediately after selling to another company is also a success for the startup. Since career or compensation growth is out of everyone's control, the CEO and leaders of the startup can start giving some empty but focused promises that although career and compensation growth is not guaranteed, if their employees dig in during this crucial moment, they can guarantee to have tremendous growth from a personal and professional perspective.
The experience they gain will help them in their professions and lives, regardless of the outcome.
They are now receiving a lot of interest, seeing sales growth, and a lot of promise in expanding the product beyond the MVP. All are very positive. The predicament they are facing is that after years of developing the product, too many within the company have become somewhat complacent and have lost their fire. They became comfortable with the tinkering and needed to remember the intensity of a do-or-die startup where things are advancing quickly, and the customer is fickle. The product launched, the real work kicked up, and the team is still determining if they can deliver according to the hype and turn things into an enduring company.
Welcome to the startup world!
To solve this uncertainty, I mentioned that the CEO and the other leaders needed to step up their motivational game. The startup was at a possible "go big or go home" moment, so people needed to provide their best energy and execution. There was no time for anything else. But what motivates an average individual employee to do that?
One way is to offer increased compensation. At established companies with large budgets, it can be base salary and bonus increases. At public companies, it can be some form of stock compensation, which has the extended effect of retaining employees until their stocks vest. At newer private companies, especially startups, equity provides upside on a potential exit.
Unfortunately, although everyone might have equity, not everyone will have top-tier equity—maybe not even the top 20% of the company. And if they don't, increasing their equity requires board approval, which would be challenging and potentially unlikely to happen. Any significant or off-cycle base or bonus increase would go through the board if the burn rate and budget even allowed it.
So, I suggested that the CEO and the company's leaders start making empty promises. I do this at work, too, although it is better than it sounds.
Career growth and compensation are naturally frequent topics of discussion within my department. The foundation of my response is similar for everyone. For example, I tell them it's a partnership. I have to make sure they have the right opportunities. They have to execute those opportunities in a way I can sell, and then I have to sell it. I can only do so much if my employees don't reciprocate my efforts.
I also tell them that once we've done the work, I'll do what I can to get them more compensation, a higher rating, or a promotion. But there are a lot of hurdles between them getting their rewards. My peers may back it or contend against it. My boss may accept or reject it. Then, countless other people from HR to finance to others in the direct chain of command might stop it. Perhaps the hurdle is not a person, but the company's performance is lackluster, and that particular performance cycle mirrors it. The company has done well, but the macro-level economics are trending downward. All these things are out of my control and my employee's control.
So what do we do? Give up before we even start?
And this is where the empty promise, or a highly focused promise, comes in. I tell my employees I can't guarantee things I don't control. However, I guarantee that I will work towards giving people the opportunities to grow as an individual and professionally. If they follow my lead and work the process with me, I'll ensure they have exposure to challenging problems, higher-level responsibilities, and growth-expanding experiences. No matter what happens outside our control, I can provide that as long as I still have a job and any form of authority.
From there, I also tell them that if the company or I cannot give them the career growth to match their personal or professional development on the timeline they want, I hold no hard feelings if they find another department or company that will. They must do what they must and shouldn't let anything stop them from their goals. During their growth, they have already paid back the company and myself for whatever value they provided and owe nothing more. Although I hope the company can retain people, sometimes it doesn't happen. I've had plenty of people who have moved on because of this, some of which I still connect and collaborate with.
The situation is the same for personal projects. Instead of setting goals and aspirations that revolve around outcomes out of your control, focus on only things in your control.
The startup's leadership can also address the uncertainty using the same logic. No one can predict whether a startup will succeed or fail. And even if the startup is a success, there are different types of success. Continuously growing so that the individuals can develop their careers is a success for the startup. Everyone being laid off immediately after selling to another company is also a success for the startup. Since career or compensation growth is out of everyone's control, the CEO and leaders of the startup can start giving some empty but focused promises that although career and compensation growth is not guaranteed, if their employees dig in during this crucial moment, they can guarantee to have tremendous growth from a personal and professional perspective.
The experience they gain will help them in their professions and lives, regardless of the outcome.
7.01.2024
#42 | Bring You
Recently, a reader was binge-reading the Boredom blog from start to finish. Then they came to my 3-ish month hiatus from the end of June 2019 to mid-October 2019. They messaged with the following comment: I love how you took the gap in 2019 from June to October. Really shows your human. We all run into life."
My response was: wait until you see my 4+ year sabbatical coming up at the beginning of 2020.
All kidding aside, they touched on a principle I've strived to be a core tenant of my leadership style for the past two years. Around two years ago, I shifted organizations within my company and almost tripled the number of people I managed overnight. Not only did I see that large of an increase in people, but I had helped build up my previous area from nothing, so I knew everyone exceptionally well, and vice versa.
In my new organization, I started working with people who might have superficial knowledge of me with meaningful interactions. That means I had to dig deep into figuring out what type of leader I wanted to be and could practically reinvent myself as needed.
I knew I didn't want to be an unapproachable leader. I entered this company as a senior software engineer, earned promotions, and worked my way up. I was once in their shoes and walked the same path as them. I knew a lot of their pains and frustrations. I wanted them to know that and to sense that by how I presented myself and interacted with them. Saying it wasn't enough, I had to live it. An unapproachable leadership style frequently leads to a tone-deaf and ivory-tower dynamic. Maintaining chain of command and leadership hierarchies is possible without sacrificing approachability.
I also didn't want to be overly stoic. That is a common trait I see with older or higher-up leadership styles. Emotions don't exist, and neither do faults or mistakes. I am perfect, and you should be too. No thanks. It's exhausting to maintain that front at all times, and it is also a great morale killer. As the head of any team, the team's culture will likely mimic your own. Showing emotions; disappointment and frustration, excitement and hope, and everything else in between; doesn't weaken the team. Showing weaknesses and mistakes doesn't magnify our faults. Showing our emotions, flaws, and errors allows us to be stronger as individuals or as a team as we address them.
I wanted to be inclusive. Obnoxious and toxic "tech bros" fill the tech industry. However, the tech industry is common; any large community can tend to homogenize. That's not how I want to surround myself. I grew up in a very diverse neighborhood. I have enjoyed having friends from all walks of life. One of the most appealing parts of traveling is to immerse myself as much as possible in local customs, activities, and people. Diversity strengthens us by bringing in all these unique perspectives to ensure we miss nothing.
There were many other traits that I did or didn't want to exhibit, but they all sum up into a single word: authentic.
Robots and AI have yet to take over. We still run things. We all make mistakes, burn out, and have unconscious biases. We are all human. We should embrace this part of ourselves, strengthening us as we acknowledge, analyze, and address our humanity—not just in leadership but in our everyday lives and in all of our social interactions with our colleagues, family, and friends.
If the leader is authentic, those around them will also feel more comfortable dropping the mask and being authentic.
My response was: wait until you see my 4+ year sabbatical coming up at the beginning of 2020.
All kidding aside, they touched on a principle I've strived to be a core tenant of my leadership style for the past two years. Around two years ago, I shifted organizations within my company and almost tripled the number of people I managed overnight. Not only did I see that large of an increase in people, but I had helped build up my previous area from nothing, so I knew everyone exceptionally well, and vice versa.
In my new organization, I started working with people who might have superficial knowledge of me with meaningful interactions. That means I had to dig deep into figuring out what type of leader I wanted to be and could practically reinvent myself as needed.
I knew I didn't want to be an unapproachable leader. I entered this company as a senior software engineer, earned promotions, and worked my way up. I was once in their shoes and walked the same path as them. I knew a lot of their pains and frustrations. I wanted them to know that and to sense that by how I presented myself and interacted with them. Saying it wasn't enough, I had to live it. An unapproachable leadership style frequently leads to a tone-deaf and ivory-tower dynamic. Maintaining chain of command and leadership hierarchies is possible without sacrificing approachability.
I also didn't want to be overly stoic. That is a common trait I see with older or higher-up leadership styles. Emotions don't exist, and neither do faults or mistakes. I am perfect, and you should be too. No thanks. It's exhausting to maintain that front at all times, and it is also a great morale killer. As the head of any team, the team's culture will likely mimic your own. Showing emotions; disappointment and frustration, excitement and hope, and everything else in between; doesn't weaken the team. Showing weaknesses and mistakes doesn't magnify our faults. Showing our emotions, flaws, and errors allows us to be stronger as individuals or as a team as we address them.
I wanted to be inclusive. Obnoxious and toxic "tech bros" fill the tech industry. However, the tech industry is common; any large community can tend to homogenize. That's not how I want to surround myself. I grew up in a very diverse neighborhood. I have enjoyed having friends from all walks of life. One of the most appealing parts of traveling is to immerse myself as much as possible in local customs, activities, and people. Diversity strengthens us by bringing in all these unique perspectives to ensure we miss nothing.
There were many other traits that I did or didn't want to exhibit, but they all sum up into a single word: authentic.
Robots and AI have yet to take over. We still run things. We all make mistakes, burn out, and have unconscious biases. We are all human. We should embrace this part of ourselves, strengthening us as we acknowledge, analyze, and address our humanity—not just in leadership but in our everyday lives and in all of our social interactions with our colleagues, family, and friends.
If the leader is authentic, those around them will also feel more comfortable dropping the mask and being authentic.
6.24.2024
#41 | Partnerships & Collaborations
My childhood was interesting. I felt like a middle-class family living in a low-income neighborhood. I believe this is mainly because my parents were on-again, off-again separated. Both worked and made decent money, but they were both separate single-income households due to not being together and living single through most of my childhood. They could not combine finances as is typically required for modern family households.
Because of this, the neighborhood I grew up in was not ideal. Gang violence and murders around my elementary school in my early years there. Teen relationship drama and more murders on my street in my late elementary school years. Watching fights constantly during and after school in middle school, where the loser ended up in the hospital. Entering high school and realized a lot of my best friends from elementary school were gone due to early-teen pregnancies, juvie, or being dead. Then, I experienced race wars and walkouts and guns and knives on the high school campus. Going to college and finding out other schools were so afraid to go to your hood for sporting events that they would prefer to forfeit games. Talking to my new colleague peers about how I wasn't sure I would make it through high school in a literal sense and being told they completely understood because high school was so embarrassing and anxiety-inducing that they figuratively didn't think they would survive. Then, going home during every college break to find out yet another old classmate was no longer with us, sometimes due to "stepping on the wrong shoes" at a house party or sometimes being part of a deal gone wrong. While texting my new friends from the porch at night, hearing gunshots pop off. To top it all off, going back a decade after high school graduation and seeing the cartels take over the old stomping grounds with open carry and public-space domestic abuse.
My saving grace was that my parents made decent money and provided stable households despite shifting ones, allowing me to be level-headed enough to pick my friends carefully and to stay off the radar while still succeeding.
I made it out. But nothing happens in a vacuum, and there were a lot of people throughout that helped. Many I wouldn't even remember anymore, some I remember vividly. I aim to pay it forward as often as I can.
This background has been a guiding force in my philanthropic desires. Immediately after graduating from college and having a steady income, I started donating to the local family shelter monthly for a decade. Immediately before the pandemic, I started volunteering at Junior Achievement. Helping other kids make it out has always been a big passion of mine.
However, that changed a few years ago when I was tired of my corporate job's endless meetings and political infighting. I was inches from quitting and using what I had learned and gained leadership skills to try to land a high-level position at a nonprofit. I was a weekend away from turning in my notice when my wife sat me down to talk through this significant life decision.
She brought reality to the decision. Nonprofits are bogged down with bureaucracy and sometimes have low effectiveness at translating donated dollars into truly effective altruism. While at work, the number of people within the domain I managed had nearly tripled to around 80 people. So my wife said if I wanted to pay it forward and help people, I had a large audience between my org and all of our counterparts and collaborators that I could help, especially in the technology industry where tech bro culture runs rampant and many people become overlooked.
That convo changed my course. I stayed at work and focused exclusively on helping my people. The funny side effect is that the more energy I put into empowering my people, the better they did. The better they did, the better I looked as a leader. The better I looked, the more influence I gained across areas outside my domain. The more influence I gained, the more I could focus on empowering a larger group of people. And the cycle continued.
I want to use that same energy and apply it to non-work endeavors, dusting off the PCB and rebuilding it in Confluence. I'm also figuring out how to increase my outreach with Discord, Patreon, and Substack. Helping kids make it out has stayed on the radar, but the radar just expanded to helping anyone achieve their goals, regardless of their age or background.
During this new era, I started talking with an artist friend who works in the entertainment industry. He has a budding YouTube channel and is trying to figure out how to expand it. He discussed his hectic life involving career, family, and personal projects. It seemed like burnout was real, and being overwhelmed was an understatement. He sounded like all of us, and I recalled the first few posts of this blog. I started giving him some insights I've discovered throughout the years and pointed him towards the blog, hoping it would hit close to him and help him. I also told him I was working with people at work to grow their careers. At one point, he asked me when I had decided I wanted to be a mentor.
That triggered some thoughts; something didn't sit quite right.
So I started to think about it. Why didn't it sit right?
Then it hit me. Some people I mentored at work started at the same level and at the same time as I did. And they are today at the same level as me. Some of the people I have mentored outside of work have been my seniors and accomplished more in life, but I happened to be more of a master at a specific aspect of their lives. Others were my juniors in the traditional sense, but while helping them grow as individuals, they gave me as much back as I gave them. They helped me refine my message. Through careful thought, I had to articulate my thoughts in a way that others could receive. It forced me to be introspective enough to pull out what worked and didn't work for me. Then forced me to be observant and empathetic enough to realize what worked for me won't work for everyone and to listen and understand other's perspectives to ensure what I was putting out was not tone deaf, was not from a position of privilege or lack of understanding, and would be heard.
I haven't been a mentor to anyone.
Instead, I have been a partner and collaborator with all these great people, young and old. They have given me as much as I have given them. Paying it forward, helping others out, and my philanthropic desires come full circle. Again, nothing happens in a vacuum, and we are all interconnected.
Because of this, the neighborhood I grew up in was not ideal. Gang violence and murders around my elementary school in my early years there. Teen relationship drama and more murders on my street in my late elementary school years. Watching fights constantly during and after school in middle school, where the loser ended up in the hospital. Entering high school and realized a lot of my best friends from elementary school were gone due to early-teen pregnancies, juvie, or being dead. Then, I experienced race wars and walkouts and guns and knives on the high school campus. Going to college and finding out other schools were so afraid to go to your hood for sporting events that they would prefer to forfeit games. Talking to my new colleague peers about how I wasn't sure I would make it through high school in a literal sense and being told they completely understood because high school was so embarrassing and anxiety-inducing that they figuratively didn't think they would survive. Then, going home during every college break to find out yet another old classmate was no longer with us, sometimes due to "stepping on the wrong shoes" at a house party or sometimes being part of a deal gone wrong. While texting my new friends from the porch at night, hearing gunshots pop off. To top it all off, going back a decade after high school graduation and seeing the cartels take over the old stomping grounds with open carry and public-space domestic abuse.
My saving grace was that my parents made decent money and provided stable households despite shifting ones, allowing me to be level-headed enough to pick my friends carefully and to stay off the radar while still succeeding.
I made it out. But nothing happens in a vacuum, and there were a lot of people throughout that helped. Many I wouldn't even remember anymore, some I remember vividly. I aim to pay it forward as often as I can.
This background has been a guiding force in my philanthropic desires. Immediately after graduating from college and having a steady income, I started donating to the local family shelter monthly for a decade. Immediately before the pandemic, I started volunteering at Junior Achievement. Helping other kids make it out has always been a big passion of mine.
However, that changed a few years ago when I was tired of my corporate job's endless meetings and political infighting. I was inches from quitting and using what I had learned and gained leadership skills to try to land a high-level position at a nonprofit. I was a weekend away from turning in my notice when my wife sat me down to talk through this significant life decision.
She brought reality to the decision. Nonprofits are bogged down with bureaucracy and sometimes have low effectiveness at translating donated dollars into truly effective altruism. While at work, the number of people within the domain I managed had nearly tripled to around 80 people. So my wife said if I wanted to pay it forward and help people, I had a large audience between my org and all of our counterparts and collaborators that I could help, especially in the technology industry where tech bro culture runs rampant and many people become overlooked.
That convo changed my course. I stayed at work and focused exclusively on helping my people. The funny side effect is that the more energy I put into empowering my people, the better they did. The better they did, the better I looked as a leader. The better I looked, the more influence I gained across areas outside my domain. The more influence I gained, the more I could focus on empowering a larger group of people. And the cycle continued.
I want to use that same energy and apply it to non-work endeavors, dusting off the PCB and rebuilding it in Confluence. I'm also figuring out how to increase my outreach with Discord, Patreon, and Substack. Helping kids make it out has stayed on the radar, but the radar just expanded to helping anyone achieve their goals, regardless of their age or background.
During this new era, I started talking with an artist friend who works in the entertainment industry. He has a budding YouTube channel and is trying to figure out how to expand it. He discussed his hectic life involving career, family, and personal projects. It seemed like burnout was real, and being overwhelmed was an understatement. He sounded like all of us, and I recalled the first few posts of this blog. I started giving him some insights I've discovered throughout the years and pointed him towards the blog, hoping it would hit close to him and help him. I also told him I was working with people at work to grow their careers. At one point, he asked me when I had decided I wanted to be a mentor.
That triggered some thoughts; something didn't sit quite right.
So I started to think about it. Why didn't it sit right?
Then it hit me. Some people I mentored at work started at the same level and at the same time as I did. And they are today at the same level as me. Some of the people I have mentored outside of work have been my seniors and accomplished more in life, but I happened to be more of a master at a specific aspect of their lives. Others were my juniors in the traditional sense, but while helping them grow as individuals, they gave me as much back as I gave them. They helped me refine my message. Through careful thought, I had to articulate my thoughts in a way that others could receive. It forced me to be introspective enough to pull out what worked and didn't work for me. Then forced me to be observant and empathetic enough to realize what worked for me won't work for everyone and to listen and understand other's perspectives to ensure what I was putting out was not tone deaf, was not from a position of privilege or lack of understanding, and would be heard.
I haven't been a mentor to anyone.
Instead, I have been a partner and collaborator with all these great people, young and old. They have given me as much as I have given them. Paying it forward, helping others out, and my philanthropic desires come full circle. Again, nothing happens in a vacuum, and we are all interconnected.
6.16.2024
#40 | The Return
It's been a while since I last published a blog post, but I'm excited to announce that I'm back and ready to start writing again.
When I started this blog, I aimed to experiment with what it would take to maintain a regular publishing schedule. I set a goal of publishing a new blog entry every week for a year. I wanted to build a routine that would allow me to generate high-quality content regularly. Whether or not the content remained high-quality is up for debate, but I was able to establish a system that kept me on track for the most part, with only a minor break during that first year.
After a year of publishing weekly blog posts, I ran out of topics to discuss. Or, more accurately, I had put all my focus on generating the content and zero focus on promoting the blog, so the organic traffic needed more. Without any interaction from an audience, I was speaking into the void with no feedback cycle. Then the pandemic hit, and with it came a lot of craziness.
Life hit hard, shattering my routine and my motivation.
My personal life has changed since I last wrote a blog post. My role at my day job has continued to expand, and I've had more and more opportunities to take on leadership positions. My last entry was January 2020 at which point I was a Senior Manager managing around 20 or so Engineers. Four years later, my employer has stayed the same, but I've received two promotions to Executive Director and manage anywhere from 60-80 people depending on the re-org of the week. The growth rate has forced a high level of increase in professional maturity, leadership techniques and skills, and even personal maturity.
In my personal life, things have also been in flux, with a mix of successes and failures. My wife's oldest has both gone to university and graduated. My oldest has moved with her mother a state away. Our youngest is now eight years old but has been diagnosed with being on the autism spectrum along with having ADHD (highly functional, but it explains all of his quirks). We obtained passports for our kids (which are about to expire as underaged passports only last five years!) and have made three international trips as a family, two being to my wife's home country in Latin America.
To round things out, I have become more proactive in this blog and the PCB. I have rebuilt the old Trello tracking system into a Confluence system. I have worked with a few others to establish their unique system based on the PCB concepts and then watched them achieve amazing results.
As a result, I have a new set of topics to discuss. So here we go.
I'm excited to see where this blog can go in the future. I want to continue to share my knowledge with others, but I'd also like to find ways to incorporate more community and critical thinking into the blog.
Stay tuned for future updates and new blog posts. I look forward to reconnecting with my audience and continuing this experimental journey.
When I started this blog, I aimed to experiment with what it would take to maintain a regular publishing schedule. I set a goal of publishing a new blog entry every week for a year. I wanted to build a routine that would allow me to generate high-quality content regularly. Whether or not the content remained high-quality is up for debate, but I was able to establish a system that kept me on track for the most part, with only a minor break during that first year.
After a year of publishing weekly blog posts, I ran out of topics to discuss. Or, more accurately, I had put all my focus on generating the content and zero focus on promoting the blog, so the organic traffic needed more. Without any interaction from an audience, I was speaking into the void with no feedback cycle. Then the pandemic hit, and with it came a lot of craziness.
Life hit hard, shattering my routine and my motivation.
My personal life has changed since I last wrote a blog post. My role at my day job has continued to expand, and I've had more and more opportunities to take on leadership positions. My last entry was January 2020 at which point I was a Senior Manager managing around 20 or so Engineers. Four years later, my employer has stayed the same, but I've received two promotions to Executive Director and manage anywhere from 60-80 people depending on the re-org of the week. The growth rate has forced a high level of increase in professional maturity, leadership techniques and skills, and even personal maturity.
In my personal life, things have also been in flux, with a mix of successes and failures. My wife's oldest has both gone to university and graduated. My oldest has moved with her mother a state away. Our youngest is now eight years old but has been diagnosed with being on the autism spectrum along with having ADHD (highly functional, but it explains all of his quirks). We obtained passports for our kids (which are about to expire as underaged passports only last five years!) and have made three international trips as a family, two being to my wife's home country in Latin America.
To round things out, I have become more proactive in this blog and the PCB. I have rebuilt the old Trello tracking system into a Confluence system. I have worked with a few others to establish their unique system based on the PCB concepts and then watched them achieve amazing results.
As a result, I have a new set of topics to discuss. So here we go.
I'm excited to see where this blog can go in the future. I want to continue to share my knowledge with others, but I'd also like to find ways to incorporate more community and critical thinking into the blog.
Stay tuned for future updates and new blog posts. I look forward to reconnecting with my audience and continuing this experimental journey.
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