How Can A Laboring Man Find Time For Self-Culture?

On the eve of Labor Day, I find myself haunted by the lyrics of Billy Joel. Not "Uptown Girl," but these:

"Every child had a pretty good shot

To get at least as far as their old man got." - Allentown

There are plenty of times when I find myself sauntering from classroom to classroom, looking down into kids' faces, doing my job and I feel a twinge. Am I doing the thing that I am supposed to do? Is this teaching thing really "my calling?" What is a job? What is a career? And most importantly: Would my father be proud of me?

The answer is pretty easy. I know that my father would probably get all teary-eyed describing what I do to his buddies back home. He was bit of a marshmallow inside, and tended to weep when he heard "Stars and Stripes Forever." He is also the guy who, after I had been working at a book warehouse for a little over a year and been promoted to manager and elected to the employee-owned corporation's board of directors, said, "That either says a lot about you, or a lot about the people you work with." I never got the chance to ask him exactly what he meant by that, but that was my dad.

I don't expect to live in a world of Bruce Springsteen-loading-crates-down-by-the-dock, but then again, neither does Bruce. Even though he will never have to "work down at the car wash where all it ever does is rain," neither will his children. I know that, while I no longer carry hundreds of books around a warehouse, or install modular office furniture, I still put in a full day's work and then find something else to do. When my father was young he had a paper route and worked himself into a job in the press room, eventually finding himself in the office with a job selling printing jobs. The curve for success seems to be to climb up and away from the physical labor: The American Dream.

And so I imagine my son graduating from some prestigious university with some prestigious degree. Maybe an architect or an engineer, designing homes or video games for a new generation. But before that, I expect he'll wash a few dishes, or unload a few boxes, or mow a few lawns. I want my son to get at least as far as his old man got, after he works up a sweat.