Ask Lemmy
A Fediverse community for open-ended, thought provoking questions
Rules: (interactive)
1) Be nice and; have fun
Doxxing, trolling, sealioning, racism, and toxicity are not welcomed in AskLemmy. Remember what your mother said: if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. In addition, the site-wide Lemmy.world terms of service also apply here. Please familiarize yourself with them
2) All posts must end with a '?'
This is sort of like Jeopardy. Please phrase all post titles in the form of a proper question ending with ?
3) No spam
Please do not flood the community with nonsense. Actual suspected spammers will be banned on site. No astroturfing.
4) NSFW is okay, within reason
Just remember to tag posts with either a content warning or a [NSFW] tag. Overtly sexual posts are not allowed, please direct them to either [email protected] or [email protected].
NSFW comments should be restricted to posts tagged [NSFW].
5) This is not a support community.
It is not a place for 'how do I?', type questions.
If you have any questions regarding the site itself or would like to report a community, please direct them to Lemmy.world Support or email [email protected]. For other questions check our partnered communities list, or use the search function.
Reminder: The terms of service apply here too.
Partnered Communities:
Logo design credit goes to: tubbadu
view the rest of the comments
My best thing happened unexpectedly on March 15, 1973. (Probably makes me the oldest person in the room.) My high school guidance counselor died in his sleep. Bummer for him, but lucky for me. Back in the ’60s, my school system had me pegged as a gifted student, which was a one-size fits all label. That tag followed me to high school, where as a green sophomore, I was assigned the "gifted" guidance counselor, Mr. Daly. Daly was also a history teacher, and greatly loved and admired. He was a retired USMC Vietnam vet, and suffered from Marfan syndrome, giving him a strange and imposing appearance. He was a force of nature, that guy. I was 15 when we first met, and I had no idea about what I would do with my life. Because of my label, Daly had it all figured out. In his mind I was on my way to become a doctor, lawyer, CEO, etc. Yeah — no thanks. I had no goals, only passions — Photography and Design. I wanted to enroll in my school's tech classes and follow my interests. Daly squashed that idea. Wasn't going to happen. I was heartbroken. As a kid of 15 I had no leverage, and didn't know how I could get what I wanted. My parents were no help; "He probably knows best" was the best they could do. A few weeks later, when I came to school on the 16th of March, word was that Mr. Daly had died the previous night. While the school was in mourning, I was a pretty happy kid. My new counselor had no objections to me taking the photo and design track. :: After high school, university and some preliminary jobs, I started my own marketing communications business (then called freelancing, today gig work) and continued for 30+ years by myself. Of course the work had its ups and downs, but I was happy and always employed. :: Now I'm 66 and retired, and I always wonder what my life would be like if Mr. Daly had lived and imposed his vision on my life. Guess I got lucky. :: Rest in peace, Mr. D.![](https://lemmy.world/pictrs/image/19044282-6e7b-474b-b47d-eb65e6143bab.png)
This is a really well told and interesting answer. Thank you for sharing!
Amazing story. Indeed thank you for sharing! 💜🧡
You’re older than I am, but not by a lot.
My guidance counsellor moment was probably around 1975-76. I was deep into comp sci; a friend would tell me years later that the teacher knew less than at least a couple of us. I would ask him a question, he would say he’d look into it. Unbeknownst to me, he wandered over to the other advanced student (Phil) and put my question to him. Phil would reply, teacher would make his way back to me and share the knowledge. The same thing would happen if Phil had a question; teacher would come to me for the answer.
My friend watched this whole thing with amusement.
Now for the GC moment. Career counselling.
I went to the GC’s office full of electric enthusiasm, hoping to learn of the great CS things that awaited me after uni. I told him about my love and fascination with computers. He had the reaction, the kind a parent has when they need to tell their child their favourite pet has died. He told me that it might be fun and make for an interesting hobby, but that there were no computer-related careers. And that I should consider another vocation. I was crushed.
I even spent some years in university studying things that were unrelated to CS. My career didn’t get any traction until about 10 years after HS, unsurprisingly in the field I was most passionate about.
Anyway, I’ve been a computer professional for about 35 years now.