Promises Promises Promises - The Game Gen Z Mothers Should Have Taught Them

Those hiring make promises to the new graduate. Motivated to the extreme he gives the job his all. Predictably, those promises don't come through. He becomes de-motivated. On LinkedIn, From the Safety of Retirement, Murray Gottheil chronicles that brutal rite of passage. That is, the young worker has been introduced to a standard game in the world of work. 

When I do tarot readings I bear witness to this kind of disappointment in expectations from Gen Z. Unlike us boomers their mother might have never taught them about that game of promises promises promises. Our mothers, who had made it through The Great Depression, didn't screen us from how cruel working for a living could be. Put it this way: At home we heard a lot about how the bird in the hand was better than two in the bush.

Not that we boomers, the luckiest gen in America, took well to that reality. I responded to Gottheil's post with my own Ah-Ha moment.

At the beginning of the summer of 1962, I, an honor roll student at Henry Snyder High School in Jersey City, New Jersey, put on a suit and heels. I boarded the Path underground to Manhattan. I knocked on doors of glam industries like broadcast seeking summer employment. You bet, I assured them how fast I learn and how hard I work. Two promised me I would hear from them.

Euphoric, I told mom the good news. There was pain in her eyes.

She contacted someone she knew at New Jersey Bell and got an interview for me for a non-glam position as a long-distance operator at a branch near our house. I balked. Then she clued me in on life, at least as she had known it. For the rest of high school and throughout college I could bounce into the traffic room of NJ Bell and get all the work I wanted. I graduated college without debt. No, no calls from Manhattan. 

Along the way in my careers I have had dreams. But I knew not to base decisions based on them. That has given me some control. 

About a year ago a psychic shop where I did tarot readings on a contract basis was collapsing. To try to get me to continue to show up and wait for customers to stroll in the owner, you bet, made promises. My boomer peers and I dropped out. But not the young readers. They would sit there for hours, surfing their phones. If they had asked me ... But they didn't ask. 

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