Stopping By The Woods

The end of quite a long work week finally arrives. I work in technology, for a small company that creates software used in wireless devices. I am a Quality Assurance Engineer, which basically means I test the software to make sure it is working as designed. But it is really not so simple. There are a lot of “moving parts,” components that allow all manner of electronic things to “talk” to one another. There’s a vast amount of devices to test with. And it’s a fiercely competitive marketplace, so there is always a push to get a release out, to beat out a challenge from another company, to win another client, and so forth.

It’s definitely a young person’s game. Since this is a small company, under fifty employees, I may even be the oldest employee there. Maybe it’s part of what’s keeping me young. Or maybe my youthful approach to life is what’s keeping me in the game. I’m not sure. But one thing I know–It’s not my dad’s engineering environment. He was a chemical engineer who worked for Seagram’s all his adult life. Back in the day, his day, not my day, you worked for one company, and it was for keeps. There was a kind of family loyalty between employer and employee.

Today’s “day,” working at a technology company, is quite different. The place you work can be like a family, but one at which divorce can take place among parents and offspring at any time. Sentimentality, something that to me is quite human and natural, is sadly not part of the world of business. You can have camaraderie, and indeed, if you can play on the team, it’s extremely helpful. But in some work environments, it’s not a requirement. The basic requirement is to work hard, help out, do your best, but be prepared. Be prepared for anything.

So, where am I in all that? I work in engineering because I am somewhat genetically wired to do it. My dad was an engineer by trade, but came from an era where an engineer was thoroughly schooled in liberal arts. My mom had more of a visual artist’s eye. Somewhere in that mix I was brought into the world. So I do my job, and I do it with a certain amount of bravado, but it was not what I trained to do in college. There, I learned what was inside myself, I learned how to bring it out. It happened to be painting, but I knew all along creating art was not going to be the specific way I made a living. I thought I might go about teaching art, or art history maybe, but I also had a sense that work was going to be, well, work. And I knew that specific work was not necessarily going to define me, but that I would define my work. I am old enough now to know that I am not about the pay I earn. I am about many, many things, where I came from, what I do, who I am, who I choose to be with, and what I bring to every moment of being.