Can you remember how you felt after a major life event?
This past Saturday, my son graduated from Franklin & Marshall College in Lancaster, PA. As I watched him walk across the stage, my own memories of graduating with my bachelor’s degree came rushing back.
I wish I could say I felt fulfilled, proud, and energized to take on the world. But at 21, my emotions were more complicated: uncertainty about the future, regret for not doing more, and a quiet relief to be free from academics. Like my son, I graduated into an unpredictable economy. Finding my first “real” job wasn’t easy. Back then, it meant typing up a resume, walking into offices, and making cold calls.
It might be even harder now. I recently spoke with a young woman who, after graduating a couple of years ago, applied for over 40 jobs without receiving a single response. She eventually took a course just to learn how to write a resume that would get picked up by AI. That level of detachment—being reduced to keywords—feels colder than the rejection I faced decades ago.
But my son is a planner. He has always been ready to work. This summer, he leaves for Paraguay to serve in the Peace Corps, working in business development. For the past six months, he’s been learning the language, studying cultural norms, and preparing himself in every way he can.
He’s excited for the challenge—and eager to leave behind TikTok and some of the habits of college life that cling to us like barnacles. During his interview with the Corps, they asked if he’d be okay sharing a room. His response: “No problem. I’m one of five—I’ve never had my own room.” I smiled when he told me that. Perhaps my only contribution to his brave leap forward was raising him in a house where compromise and shared space were a given.
As a financial planner, part of me wants to open a Roth IRA for his first paycheck. But the most valuable thing I can give him now isn’t financial—it’s compassion.
Crossing into the working world is hard. It takes grit, grace, and a belief that effort will lead to opportunity.
And it helps to know someone’s in your corner, cheering you on—with love, and perhaps a little lived experience.