High School Jeff was mostly wrong: a 20-year reflection

In the year of our Lord, two-thousand and one, a young, moderately energetic, marginally idealistic, undeniably handsome young man (me, obviously) graduated from Norwalk High School. Now, 20-years later, it occurs to me that if I were to ask that debonair eighteen-year-old what the next twenty years of his life would yield, he would have been almost entirely wrong.

High school Jeff was looking forward to being a college football player. He never played a snap.

High school Jeff thought he was pretty smart and a good writer. His was assuaged of this notion on his first college paper, which received a C- and the comment, “have you ever done this before?”

High school Jeff knew he would get a degree in history and though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do with it, he was certain he would not use that history degree to be a teacher.  He was right about the history degree, but would be shocked to know that he got a teaching license and even a master’s degree in Education.

High school Jeff figured he would enjoy college. He didn’t. In fact, he graduated early to get out of there. Now, he realizes that some of what made college uncomfortable was in fact good for him.

High school Jeff assumed he would meet the woman of his dreams in college and get married shortly thereafter. He didn’t meet that woman until age 26 and didn’t marry her until he was 31.

High school Jeff was pretty sure he would move to the east coast and spend his life working at a Civil War site. He never would have guessed that after stops in Cedar Falls, IA, Waukesha, WI, Champaign, IL, Iola, KS, and Petersburg, VA, he would end up building a house about 1.5 miles from the house he grew up in.

High school Jeff considered it strange when the personality assessments he took in high school said he may enjoy a career in the arts because he had no artistic talent. Now he makes a living doing public speaking.

High school Jeff thought he knew a lot, but turns out knew very little. He had a plan – a very linear plan with obvious checkpoints and milestones – graduation, career, marriage, kids, white picket fence, etc. Almost none of that plan came to fruition. And twenty years later all I can say is – GOOD.

When I look back at the last 20 years, so many of the things that bring me joy and fulfillment were never part of a plan. In fact, if I were asked to give one piece of advice to 18-year-old me (I’m an old man so unsolicited advice is sort of my jam now) it would be this: make your plan, work hard in pursuit of your goal, but be open to unexpected opportunities, especially the ones disguised as unwelcome challenges. It’s taken twenty years for high school Jeff to learn that lesson. Here’s hoping old man Jeff can apply it.