At 40, I thought I had life pretty well figured out. I was a successful graphic designer and Creative Director at a PR firm. I had a wife, two kids, a nice house, and two cars in the garage. I was doing work I loved, and life was good.
Then my company laid off a third of its staff, including me.
I'd always wanted to freelance, so I saw it as an opportunity. A few months later, the Great Recession hit, and the work dried up. A few years after that, my 20-year marriage was ending, and I found myself spiraling into some dark places I couldn't escape on my own.
Eventually, I had to accept that I couldn't fix everything by myself. I reached out for help, and people reached back. With the support of friends and a minimum of faith in a God I wasn't even sure I believed in, I began seeing the second half of my life through a new pair of glasses.
Side II — An Unexpected Turn
The economy was still struggling, and I couldn’t find work in design. One day, a friend told me that if I had a CDL I could be working tomorrow. What’s a CDL? I asked. He explained that a CDL was a Commercial Driver's License. Truck drivers were in high demand and I could be on the road in a matter of weeks.
So I decided to become a truck driver. Rather than take a quick-and-easy licensing course, I enrolled in an intensive eight-week program at Johnson County Community College, which many drivers affectionately called the “Harvard of truck driving schools.” Learning to drive an 18-wheeler was much harder than I expected, and I nearly failed. But I stuck with it and earned my CDL.
I landed a job with a trucking company, where I spent my first six weeks living in the back of a tractor-trailer with my trainer, Stan, sleeping on tiny bunk beds while learning the ropes. Eventually, I was on my own and it took about six months to feel comfortable behind the wheel. Navigating New York City traffic, squeezing between Jersey barriers on I-95 in a downpour, and backing into impossibly tight loading docks gave me a whole new appreciation for the trucking profession.
I had given myself two years to decide whether trucking was for me. There were things I liked about it. I no longer had to chase clients, worry about invoices, or constantly hunt for my next job. There was freedom in simply doing the work in front of me. The lonely stretches on the road also gave me time to think, get to know myself, and lean on my friends and a God I still couldn’t quite define.
For the first time in a long while, I was enjoying the ride. But I was also realizing how much I missed design. And, as it turned out, I wasn't exactly the world's most gifted truck driver. I brushed against a few telephone poles, ran over a bush or two, and hit a concrete barrier that damaged an axle. Then, just short of a year into the job, I scraped the back of my trailer against a car I hadn't seen in my mirrors. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but I got a ticket. Company policy stated two documented incidents in a new driver's first year resulted in dismissal.
The company didn't really want to fire me. I was inexpensive to employ, put in plenty of miles, and would have been a pretty good investment if I could just stop hitting things with my truck. Unfortunately, company policy was company policy, and my trucking career came to an end.
I’ve heard the saying that sometimes God does for us what we cannot do for ourselves. Or maybe the universe was trying to keep everyone else on the road safe by letting me out of my self-imposed two-year contract. Whichever way you want to look at it, I wouldn't trade that experience for anything. I've often said that my year as an over-the-road trucker ranks alongside earning my master's degree in design as one of the most valuable experiences of my life. It wasn't what I had planned to do. It wasn't even something I had particularly wanted to do. But it taught me things about myself, other people, and life that I couldn't have learned any other way.
Finding a New Direction
I was burned out on advertising and marketing, and I knew trucking wasn't my calling. I started picking up freelance design work to pay the bills, but It was time to figure out what was next. So I decided I wanted to get my LCSW degree and become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker. It made sense to me because during the darkest period of my life, other people had helped me find my way again. I knew what it felt like to be lost, to struggle, and to need someone who was willing to show up. I wanted to be that person for someone else.
At 48, I was going to launch a whole new career. I was prepared to quit working, take out a loan, and spend two years as a full-time college student. I was taking introductory classes at UNC and preparing for the GRE when the Art Institute of Raleigh-Durham called with an offer to teach part-time.
Years earlier, I'd taught night classes at Meredith College and enjoyed it. However, balancing a full-time job, teaching, a wife, and two kids had been a lot to manage. Now things were different and teaching part time while freelancing seemed like a good fit, so I decided to take the job.
It turns out that I love teaching design!
Design had always been my first love, but teaching it brought together something I hadn't realized I was missing. I was using skills I'd spent a lifetime developing while connecting with people in a meaningful way. Now I really felt like things were coming together.
I wanted to teach full-time, but the school had no openings. Then the parent company was sold, and the new owners closed nearly all their North Carolina campuses.
Another detour. But this time I didn't feel lost. I just needed to be willing to stop and ask for directions.
A colleague suggested I consider teaching in high school. My first reaction was, Really? High school? I wanted to teach design, not babysit teenagers.
But I listened.
I discovered that high schools offered Career and Technical Education courses in digital design, 3-D modeling, and animation—subjects I was already qualified to teach.
I didn't need to abandon my career and start over. I simply needed to get my teaching certification.
I enrolled in the necessary courses at NC State while freelancing and, apparently not quite finished with driving, working as a school bus driver. A year later, I had my teaching certification and a full-time position teaching digital design and animation at a local high school.
It felt like the intersection where all the roads of my life were finally coming together.
The Trip I Couldn't Have Planned
Looking back, I can see how every detour was essential to get me to where I am today. Design taught me to solve problems, explore different possibilities, and understand that the first answer isn't always the best one. Those skills have shaped how I approach nearly everything in life.
Truck driving taught me humility and patience. Teaching gave me purpose. My adversities taught me to accept help and the importance of showing up for others.
My desire to become a social worker came from wanting to help people who were struggling, just as others had helped me. I thought I needed an entirely new career to make a difference.
I was wrong.
I now teach in one of the more economically challenged districts in our county. Many of my students come from families working incredibly hard for very little. Not every student has someone encouraging them to imagine all that might be possible.
I get to be one of those people. I teach skills that can open doors, share lessons from my professional and personal experiences, and help young people see that there are many ways to build a meaningful life. Sometimes, a student simply needs another adult who believes in them and is willing to help them discover their potential.
Most importantly, I discovered that making a difference didn't require me to abandon my past and become someone entirely new. I could bring everything I'd learned—my skills, my experiences, and even my hardships—to a new direction in life.
My life today is fuller than I could have imagined. I'm happier than I've ever been. My former wife is an incredible mother, a great friend, and she will always be part of my family. My daughters have grown into amazing young women, and I couldn't be prouder of them. I'm surrounded by friends and family, and I have the opportunity to help other men navigate difficult seasons of life, just as others helped me.
I’ve also learned that the less I try to define God, the more spiritually connected I feel to whatever God is. And the more that spiritual connection grows, the less I need to define it. I don't need to understand everything to recognize that something meaningful has been happening along the way. I've always heard that God is love. And I know that when I lead my life with love, my life is simply better.
I wouldn't have chosen to lose my job, watch my marriage end, struggle through years of uncertainty, or find myself living in the back of a tractor-trailer when I thought my career was already established. But I wouldn't change a thing.
I could not have designed the broken path that led me to exactly where I wanted to be. But I thank God I found my way.