Self-Made, Not Quite

I used to think of myself as a self-made man. I had pulled myself up by my own accord. From starting a paper route in seventh grade to being one of the first in my extended family to get a college degree. I had traveled abroad when no one else had ventured very far. Lived as an ex-Pat in Denmark. Ended up with my own business, real estate investments and then entered the last chapter of my life as a published author.

That was me or so I thought. Raised by a single mother, no male role model in my life, no guidance, no direction, no lucky breaks, just some poor schlep trying to make it on his own. I saw that analysis, not as some congratulatory tour of self, but rather an honest appraisal of my upbringing. Problem was, I had left out the people, places and things that molded me into the person I am today.

Yes, I had done all of those things and I still hunger for success. But it wasn’t just my work ethic, ambition or chance encounters that got me to where I am today. Nor was it some serendipitous turn of events that helped me along the way. Who knew what really happened to me growing up? Turns out that Malcolm Gladwell did and it was truly eye-opening.

In his best seller, ‘Outliers,’ Malcolm Gladwell makes a very convincing argument that “In understanding successful people, we have come to focus far too much on their intelligence and ambition and personality traits. Instead, Malcolm argues in ‘Outliers’, we should look at the world that surrounds the successful – their culture, their family, their generation, and the idiosyncratic experiences of their upbringing.”

It's a fascinating concept and he uses some very convincing examples of successful people like Bill Gates and groups like the Beatles to prove his point. So, it got me to thinking. Were there events, encounters or timelines that helped me along the way? If so, it probably began with a small two-bedroom bungalow my mother built by herself in St. Paul, Minnesota.

The house itself was of less importance than the fact that it gave me stability and a base from which to explore my world. It was a nest I could always retreat back to where I felt safe. More remarkable is that it was built by a woman with a sixth-grade education and a job as a short-order cook. Her brother worked on the house during the day and my mother at night.

Starting a paper route in 7^th grade because my mother needed financial help seemed like a no-brainer to me. It was my first introduction to compound savings, resisting the temptation to waste money on frivolous things and the real possibility of building a nest egg for college.

Of my three Aunts, Coletta was the most successful of the four sisters. Her three sons were always held up within family circles as icons of success. Milton, the insurance executive, Jerry, the Hamm’s Beer supervisor and Ronald (Buzz), the doctor.

In my mother’s rural German Catholic culture, nuns, priests and doctors were considered ‘blessed people’ and above the rest of us. Without a word spoken, the message was very clear. Buzz, the doctor, was the pinacol of success. He went to Cretin High School and St. Thomas College. He was one of the cool kids. I knew I wanted to follow in his footsteps.

Only 265 young boys out of 650 were chosen to enter Cretin High School. Someone dropping out and cousin Milton’s influence with the Christian Brothers got me in as a freshman. Un-denounced to me, I was placed in the non-college track of studies. I was expected to, hopefully, graduate and get a job or enter the service. College was definitely not in my future by their standard of the times.

Yet it was, more than anything else, the environment of an all-boys military school that reinforced my own self-image and desire for more. I certainly knew I wasn’t one of the chosen elites, the best of the best in our class. I wasn’t even in the same classroom with them. But I did become an ROTC officer, joined a couple of after school activities and started to believe in myself.

My savings ran out after two years at St. Thomas College so I transferred to the University of Minnesota and promptly flunked out after two quarters. Uncle Sam gave me a job for two years and St. Thomas welcomed me back, curtesy of the GI Bill. Living in Denmark introduced me to an entirely different world outside of Saint Paul, Minnesota. It also heightened my interest in a myriad of subjects from urban housing to the universality of music. Once back on home soil, I began my real life.

An ad in the Minnesota Daily, student newspaper of the University of Minnesota, caught my eye. It was for a writer at the Minnesota Department of Public Health. Having no other options and apartment and car payment due soon, I took the job. Then a desire for more writing opportunities carried me to public television and my future career in video production and distribution.

When Sharon decided to marry me, I became locked into a lifestyle that has done us both very well. Starting my own business, Sharden Productions, while still working in public Television, gave me the capitol to invest in real estate. Sharon’s mastery of the maternal skills as well her own work ethic reinforced our success as a family entity.

Malcolm’s book ‘Outliers’ helped me see a much bigger picture called my life. Reflecting back on a lifetime of hard work and sacrifice, I now understand it was also a lucky confluence of many different factors that added to that equation. My dysfunctional yet lean upbringing fueled a desire for more. Education played a pivotal role in quenching a lifetime thirst for knowledge. Controlling my own financial future brought a comfortable lifestyle.

Most importantly, Sharon, as my life partner, conscience, advisor, critic and guiding light gave me the normal family life I never had growing up.  In the end, that’s about as good as it gets.