Uprooted

Guess what- it's 2AM again and I can't sleep (this is getting kinda fun).

As I mentioned in my last entry, I don't think your life really starts until you move away from home. I don't think you really become "you" until you're out on your own and "doing" things your way (in full Sinatra voice). So obviously, I think branching out plays a pretty big part in this.

Moving away was easy for me. In fact, it's something that I was excited for, and still get excited for every time I take it a step further. It is a natural part of who I am.

I was lucky to travel the entirety of the western half of the northern hemisphere before even graduating high school. Both my mom and my dad lived in the same houses and drove the same cars growing up, so we were always able to spend a decent percentage of our money on traveling- something my parents thought was important (*cough, cough: they were right). But the sad part is that they also blessed me with a wide world-view that is going to break their hearts when I leave.

It's a weird situation, and aside from my stepsister who has been back and forth from Kansas City and Des Moines after graduation, it is something completely unique to me amongst my family members. After all, I come from a historically Missourian family for as much as I know. It's just tough to appreciate everything about home after you've been away, and when you're hoping to be 1000 miles away next year.

And although I do want to get away, there is absolutely nothing here in the Midwest that I'm running away from. I like to think it's a good place to grow up, based on the positive moral lessons, meaningfully slow tempo, and the appreciation for other humans. I also like to think I was raised in a good family, inside of this good macro-environment. My families, aside from the dysfunction and the few cases of bad apples, generally consisted of good people.

Aside from this recognition, I've always wanted out. Coming to Mizzou was comfortable for me, likely because of the things my parents and teachers (both of which I think have been above average) passed on to me. I was excited and I was ready.

Now, I think it's important to highlight the way I was raised here. For my ego's sake, I really hope my parents aren't reading this entry: I sure as hell thought they were too strict, but they were right about many things. Truth be told, I think about them a lot more than I ever would admit to their face as our relationships were shaped by divorce, stubbornness, differing beliefs, and an unwavering confidence in what we both believed. Nonetheless, we did just fine.

However, from meeting people up here in Columbia who have migrated from primarily the Chicago, Kansas City, and St. Louis areas, it's easy to notice the difference in our upbringings. Some key components of mine? Here:

We didn't drink- not even a little bit.

We had early curfews and didn't really mingle without reason. My parents quizzed us on the "who, what, when, why, and how" of high school socializing.

We weren't allowed to "half-ass" anything and we always had to be doing something. This was the epitome of what "branching out" began as for me.

We weren't allowed to quit anything. My dad actually threatened that he was going to enroll me in ballet classes after I followed through with his requirement of a year of high school band, and found myself twiddling my thumbs after I decided to discontinue the next year (L-O-L).

We grew up amongst wrestling and jiu-jitsu, and my dad passed on the idea that fighting was natural and okay. BUT, you better not have started it and you had better have a good reason to finish it.

Aside from all that, my brother and I were both Eagle Scouts, we were a church-going family, and we were responsible. We may have been a little hard on some people, but all-in-all we were good. Although my parents still pick at us for some seemingly little things, I always remember to remind them that they raised three kids who will all be college graduates (after I graduate in May) and have a combined zero marks on our records- a feat that I find more and more unique amongst the people we grew up with every day. So, again, I felt I was mature enough to make it here at college.

Now, I remember there were all sorts of different books that aimed to help kids cope with the transition to college. Hell, some schools even offer seminars to teach kids how to do their laundry and dishes and things of that sort that we had been doing since middle school- what a joke. If you, as a parent, haven't passed that on to your kid (especially knowing that they are going to college) then you've really missed the point somewhere. I actually met someone over ski trip- a sophomore in college, mind you- that was just being taught by his/her roommates how to boil water... unbelievable.

 I honestly think that given the same meal plan I had my freshman year, living in the same dorm, and given a reasonable amount of money to live on (since I wouldn't have been able to work), I could have done the whole college think back in middle school. Aside from the level of challenge from the courses, it's really not as hard as it's made out to be. It requires responsibility and discipline, and that's the part that's hard to find.

Now I don't mean to say that I've done everything perfectly here at Mizzou. However, I do think I at least would get somewhere in between a B and an A- if someone were to grade me. As I get older, I find the value in things I was taught as a kid. Is this not every parent's frustrating goal? It's something that will last my lifetime and will certainly outlast theirs. My point is, my parents did a good job of preparing me to dive into this whole "branching out" thing that I feel I'm qualified to write about.

And who knows where I'll end up in May. I could stick around Columbia for a little while as I get my feet set. I could likely shoot over to Kansas City or St. Louis for a bit. I could hit that dream job in New York City or downtown Chicago or Dallas. Wherever I go, I know one thing: it's a temporary stop.

As I mentioned earlier, I was able to see more of the world on vacations by the time I was a senior in high school than most people get to see in their lifetimes. We hit all the places reasonable to a Midwesterner, but also spent time fishing the Alaskan Salmon Run, learning to surf in Waikiki, and simply seeing Miami, Los Angeles, New York City and every place in between. It was huge. Now, I'm traveling with the Cornell Leadership Program in the business school to Denver and Atlanta and Wall Street. And I'm hitting Nashville and Chicago and every other business hub with other scholarships and involvements.

But things are a little different. As a schedule full of meetings is added and the motive changes from "have fun" to "this could impact your entire career" (I still think that's super fun), traveling is becoming a little less elegant. Things are coming full circle and although simply going somewhere may not mean the same, I still try to remember how special it is to be heading somewhere at 30,000 feet in the air.

And among these simple reminders are my friends who either verbally remind me or remind me over social media, that this isn't something unique to me. Shout-out to Cara Hartwig and Chris Huetsch for making it to the investment banking industries of New York City. Shout-out to Kyle Holtzman and Tyler Becker, two of my dearest college friends, on landing in Minneapolis and Dallas respectively. Shout-out to Ash for jumping straight into her MBA. Shout-out to all my Altria folks and CLPers taking jobs across the country. You're doing it- you're branching out.

I had a fifth grade science teacher, although not my favorite, who had us do an experiment that could not be more relevant to this article. Mr. Daughtery had come up with the idea from somewhere that it would be good for us to study the effects of uprooting pea plants. It was pretty simple: you had four plants, and you were to note the outcomes and changes that were associated with the changing of different independent variables.

One of these variables was to actually remove the plant from its original soil entirely, and transplant it into another type of soil; as you can imagine the plants then began to vary dramatically. Of course, the experiment turned into a competition of who could grow the biggest plant by sneaking the most water into the soil on lunch and recess breaks, but there was an empirical lesson learned nonetheless. Your roots may change environment, but you will adapt and will still grow; for some plants, that is what allows them to grow the most. Of course, this change in environment means that you may grow differently and unexpectedly, but that is the point of life- no matter where you end up and what may surround you, make sure to always grow.