unintended consequences
Posted by Tony Lee | Posted in bonaventure, consequences, dad, friends, jealousy, perverse incentives, respect, the intrepid | Posted on 4:11 AM
I feverishly rushed home, rolling through every stop sign while speeding and honking at drivers.
When arriving, I didn’t bother parking properly, leaving the car haphazardly outside the garage.
I saw my dad in his office, located just left of the house door, smoking his cigarette, playing Freecell, looking pissed off at life.
“Dad!” I yelled, hoping to get a smile. “I shot one-under-par in my high school match!”
He hasn’t smiled much since first trimester. It didn’t help when the second trimester had the same 3.50 GPA with three Bs, especially since my dad never had one.
“How many bogeys?” he asked, almost robotically.
“Two bogeys. Three birdies,” I replied, less enthusiastically. “I drove a par five in two for the first time, though!”
As if it was from a movie, he takes his cigarette and puts it out, creating a dramatic pause.
“You could have shot three-under par,” crushing what would’ve been the best day of my freshman year.
I have never been good enough for him. Even today, it’s hard to ignore that same shamefulness he has of a son turning 27 without a college degree or a career.
In 2011, The Intrepid seemed to be that thing my dad would be proud of, maybe even warranting the words “I’m proud of you.”
Perverse incentives is a term economist use to describe an incentive that has an unintended and undesirable result contrary to the original interest.
My incentive to self promote every bit of collegiate success was to get my name out there, hoping to land a job that dad would be proud to tell his friends about.
But dad still viewed my skill sets as amateurish, not even worth his time, not even caring what my master’s thesis is.
Not even asking about his son's greatest creation.
Unintentionally, during that feverish self promoting, my Bonaventure peers started to brand me as an arrogant, self-promoting, pompous asshole who thinks he is better than everyone.
It eventually led to classmates asking, “Are people going to not like me for being with The Intrepid?” because some literally hated me.
Ironic, isn’t it, when people hate on my success when all I ever wanted was dad to read an article like theirs did?
In the end, I traded potential friends for respect from peers. My work has spoken for itself. And I am proud for working so damn hard to get here.
But was it worth it?
Because I still lose sleep for hurting people along the way. I simply didn't how to not make others feel inferior while doggedly working blindly toward success.
My greatest insecurity is not being good enough for dad, a former CEO of Microsoft Korea and a founder of a multi million-dollar company. The second was no one liking me for me.
So here I lie in bed, at 3:30 a.m. once again, knowing the two greatest insecurities have come to fruition, wondering how St. Bonaventure could've been different if everyone realized the unintended consequences prior to 2011...
When arriving, I didn’t bother parking properly, leaving the car haphazardly outside the garage.
I saw my dad in his office, located just left of the house door, smoking his cigarette, playing Freecell, looking pissed off at life.
“Dad!” I yelled, hoping to get a smile. “I shot one-under-par in my high school match!”
He hasn’t smiled much since first trimester. It didn’t help when the second trimester had the same 3.50 GPA with three Bs, especially since my dad never had one.
“How many bogeys?” he asked, almost robotically.
“Two bogeys. Three birdies,” I replied, less enthusiastically. “I drove a par five in two for the first time, though!”
As if it was from a movie, he takes his cigarette and puts it out, creating a dramatic pause.
“You could have shot three-under par,” crushing what would’ve been the best day of my freshman year.
I have never been good enough for him. Even today, it’s hard to ignore that same shamefulness he has of a son turning 27 without a college degree or a career.
In 2011, The Intrepid seemed to be that thing my dad would be proud of, maybe even warranting the words “I’m proud of you.”
Perverse incentives is a term economist use to describe an incentive that has an unintended and undesirable result contrary to the original interest.
My incentive to self promote every bit of collegiate success was to get my name out there, hoping to land a job that dad would be proud to tell his friends about.
But dad still viewed my skill sets as amateurish, not even worth his time, not even caring what my master’s thesis is.
Not even asking about his son's greatest creation.
Unintentionally, during that feverish self promoting, my Bonaventure peers started to brand me as an arrogant, self-promoting, pompous asshole who thinks he is better than everyone.
It eventually led to classmates asking, “Are people going to not like me for being with The Intrepid?” because some literally hated me.
Ironic, isn’t it, when people hate on my success when all I ever wanted was dad to read an article like theirs did?
In the end, I traded potential friends for respect from peers. My work has spoken for itself. And I am proud for working so damn hard to get here.
But was it worth it?
Because I still lose sleep for hurting people along the way. I simply didn't how to not make others feel inferior while doggedly working blindly toward success.
My greatest insecurity is not being good enough for dad, a former CEO of Microsoft Korea and a founder of a multi million-dollar company. The second was no one liking me for me.
So here I lie in bed, at 3:30 a.m. once again, knowing the two greatest insecurities have come to fruition, wondering how St. Bonaventure could've been different if everyone realized the unintended consequences prior to 2011...
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