personal

Making Dad Proud

I can still hear my father telling me and my younger sister, "I want a lawyer and a doctor. You can decide who will pursue which." Always terrified of blood and never one to shy away from a debate, I naturally chose lawyer. As I grew older, I began to flirt with the pursuit of other careers-- psychologist, journalist, politician-- but when it came time to graduate from college, and the knot of uncertainty began to tighten in my chest, I was swayed by this deeply engrained paternal push towards the well-trodden path to "success".

I loved studying for the LSATs and I knew I would probably enjoy law school, but I couldn't imagine being a lawyer. The closer application deadlines came, the more I found myself researching alternative career options. I had energy, and passion, and diverse interests-- I just wasn't sure how it would all come together. So after taking the LSATs, I called my father and told him I would not be applying for law school. With a breathy mixture of confusion, frustration and disappointment he said "Oh Brigie, there is plenty of time for pursuing other things. Now is the time to focus on building your career." While part of me still agreed with him, I just decided I was going to dive into the unknown and figure it out.

Four years, two internships, two jobs, and 5-weeks of volunteering in Tanzania later, I am still trying to figure out what I want to be when I "grow up". There are times when everything seems to line up perfectly and my experience and passions are in perfect harmony with the work and opportunities before me, and then there are times when it feels like a terrible jazz song that has no followable melody or beat.

I have always quietly thought of myself as an entrepreneur, but it wasn't until I read Reid Hoffman and Ben Casnocha's book,

The Startup Of You

that I understood that being an entrepreneur is more than just having an idea and starting a business, it's about approaching your work the way an entrepreneur would build a startup: invest in yourself, adapt to changing conditions, and take risks. I think about my career as being in permanent beta.

In spite of this validation for the unconventional approach, I still struggled to convince my father that what I was spending my time in valuable and respectable ways.

When I quit my job at a well-known technology PR company in San Francisco to spend 5-weeks volunteering in Tanzania and climbing Kilimanjaro, I wasn't sure if my father would ever recover. However, after four weeks worth of Skype calls and emails recounting my adventures in a small village near the base of Kilimanjaro, as I was preparing to climb Kilimanjaro, I received this email:

This post was

inspired by a blog

written by Scott Wu,

Upstart

's Corporate Development Lead

Truthiness Has Gone Too Far: Lessons From the Jury Box

When I told people I was called to jury duty, most offered up advice on how to be excused—tell the judge you have a business trip, give biased answers to the attorneys questions during voi dire, have your doctor write you a note. A direct correlation developed between the frequency my peers were advising me to get dismissed and the strength in my assurance that I should serve.

The morning of my jury duty, I joined several hundred of my peers in a room in the basement of the courthouse. We watched a video and were reminded of the importance of jury duty in our judicial system. I hopped on the WiFi and spent the next three hours working on my iPad waiting to be called to a courtroom or dismissed.

Shortly after lunch, the remaining 60 of us were called up to a courtroom. Then the complex game of selection began. Hardships were granted to those who had finals, pre-arranged business trips, and were not fluent in english. Those not granted hardships were then asked questions by the attorneys, at this time it became abundantly clear that the majority of full-time professionals had heard the advice about giving biased answers, and were quickly excused.

Four hours later, we had a final juror comprised of eleven women, one man and two female alternates. Two thirds of these jurors did not have college degrees and most worked clerical or service jobs. This is the county wherein Silicon Valley lies, but all of that education and diverse backgrounds were not represented in that jury box.

For the next three and a half days we sat through expert testimony regarding blood alcohol testing equipment, tolerance, rates of alcohol absorption, blood versus breath tests, field sobriety tests, and anything else you can imagine that pertains to drinking and driving. It was a tremendous amount of information, which seemed to be part of the defense's strategy-- overwhelm the juror's with information and hope that they convolute their inability to comprehend the specifics with reasonable doubt as it pertains to the specifics of this case.

When we finally began deliberations, it became clear that the task of understanding and logically applying the law to the facts of the case without contamination from sympathy and emotions was far too great for many of the jurors. When that small room became clouded with statements and questions like "He will be branded a criminal", "Thats not how I act when I'm drunk", "People should never drink and drive" I wanted to scream, "Objection! Outside the scope."

At the close of the first full day of deliberations I was consumed with sadness and frustration. Frustration that we had spent so much time discussing things that did not matter and talking in circles, and sad that the majority of this selection of my peers was either incapable or unaccustomed to critical thinking and logical reasoning.

Is this the endgame of an education system that places too much focus on self-esteem and participation instead of accountability and aptitude?

When debate ensued regarding the specifics of a juror's reasoning, the other juror's would often grow uncomfortable with the polite (and may I add necessary) debate and says things like, "I guess we are each entitled to our own opinions." While that may be true when it comes to subjective things like one's taste in movies or food. When it comes to jury duty, you are not entitled to opinions that are not grounded in facts and the law.

As much as I love Stephen Colbert, truthiness has gone too far. Our judicial system, economy, and society require people to be able to think with their head more often than they "know with their heart"-- or at least be able to tell the difference.

Conscious? Unconscious? Subconscious?

I rarely dream (or sleep for that matter) but, on such rare occasions, my dreams are such eerily realistic premonitions that it takes minutes for me to recognize reality. These dreams are more like vignettes which give me the chance to watch the most realistic scenario for whatever transition, question or looming deadline has been causing me the most anxiety.

These dreams do not require interpretation, there is no symbolism or free associating. It is as though my mind, free from the obligation to to process all of the stimulus of waking life, simply puzzles together of all of the bits and pieces of anxiety and "what-ifs" that circulate in my head when I am awake into the most plausible scenario; It's a manifestation of my neurosis.

Not to get too It's a Wonderful Life, but they feel like gifts from a guardian angel subconscious.

I had a boss once who would recount her dreams and make me look up interpretations on the internet. Do you remember your dreams? Are they fantastical or realistic?

Check out RadioLab's fantastic podcast on the science of sleep and dreams.

Benevolent Barista

On Sunday afternoon, I stopped by the Starbucks on the corner of Lexington and 55th. I got in line behind two men, who didn't appear to know each other. While standing in line, listening to a podcast, I overheard the skinny man in front of me ask "what can I get for $5?", I assumed he was a worker who was quickly grabbing a snack before heading back to work. Then the other man who was in line said to the skinny man " Get whatever you want, I've got you". It was then that I took off my headphones and heard the barista say "I have an extra pair of sneakers, let me get them for you". I looked down and noticed that the skinny man was not wearing shoes. The man was quiet, he seemed to be almost as surprised by the generous offers as I was. The barista came out from behind the counter, put his hand on the man's back and looked down at his bare feet and said "oh, my feet are much larger than yours, let me go around the corner and get you a pair of shoes. What size shoe do you wear?" The man said "seven and a half" and with that the barista headed for the door. By this time, I had received my coffee, but I was lingering trying to absorb and understand what was happening. I watched the skinny man select a few sandwiches, scones and a banana and the other man pay for it. I wanted to wait for the barista to come back with the shoes, but I began to feel uncomfortable standing and watching so I left. It was as if, I walked in to a microcosm of what New York, or the world, would be like if everyone looked out for each other. It was a remarkable experience that reminded me of the potential for kindness and community even in a place like New York City. The following day, I went back. I didn't see the barista who had run out to purchase the sneakers, but I explained the situation to his colleague and left this note for him.

I found out the barista's name is Ted.