If we coddle, protect and give, are we doing a disservice?
Posted By RichC on June 19, 2018
I generally do not read longer Facebook posts, but while scanning a few friends comments on Father’s Day remembering their dads, Kathy Pangborn (good friend and neighbor of my inlaws) reposted a story that had me remembering the different father-types that I knew.
Neither my mother or father-in-laws’ or mother or fathers’ parents (my grandparents) went to college or were more than blue collar working-class, which was common for most in the United States in early 1900s. The next generation started to change. My mother-in-law became a teacher and obviously my father-in-law (DadH) being a dentist valued a college education and saw the benefits of a professional life for his kids. In part this was likely due to losing his father at 1 year old and seeing his mother struggled to take care of him through the depression without any career skills. As a way to provide, college was seen as the best way to start for all in their family. And although my father (DadC) did eventually go to night school when he was older, he worked primarily in management positions most of his career. Still, he was never really the "must go to college type" and expected that if a college education was something I wanted, then it was something I needed to initiate, pay for and be independent about — although my parents did a lot to help me along. What my dad did instill in me was hard work and in particular that it was NOT something to avoid or "think I was above." (frankly it never occurred to me NOT to start at the bottom or that some jobs were beneath me … a trait all too common in American society today)
There were two parts of the story below that stood out to me. The first was the "printing company" reference and "hands" … 
that for years (prior to latex gloves) in my case were challenging to keep clean and free of ink; my hands in the early years were never really totally clean and when they were, the solvents dried and crack the skin unmercifully. (I wore gloves and Eucerin creme to bed many nights, especially in the wintertime. What a miracle cure!)
The second is Italian immigrant Vito, a machinist with broken English, who worked from dawn until dusk every day for his family. He ended up buying my Consolidated Printing and Publishing building in his later years and because I owner financed the building to him, I ended up realizing exactly what a Millionaire Next Door was. His wife Jean brought him lunch each day, took care of the home and helped him manage their significant number of rental properties. Even though in my eyes, he really didn’t need to keep hand machining parts, hour after hour, he did. They were the quintessential immigrant husband and wife who saw America as a place that rewarded whatever skill you had, you individualism and hard work no matter your background. I admired them in many ways, BUT they were the perfect example of parents wanting life better (different?) for their sons. The boys never did without, nor did they help in the machine shop OR picked up their parents work ethic (they were in their 20s, not in steady jobs or in college). As the story below goes, Vito did a disservice to his boys by not wanting them to get their hands dirty or perhaps have to live the life of an immigrant to America.
A young man went to seek an important position at a large printing company. He passed the initial interview and was going to meet the director for the final interview. The director saw his resume, it was excellent. And asked,’
