Dogg Pound was my first cassette purchase that was labeled with an “explicit lyrics” sticker. Of course, I was 12 and just hid the tape from my parents. They didn’t know who Snoop Dog was, it was so far off their radar. When I heard that line, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” and the little kid said, “A mutha fuckin hustler.” It was over! I knew the sky was the limit and career possibilities were going to be more fluid than straightforward.
Children are asked what they want to be when they grow up as if it is a whimsical choice. They don’t possess the context of labor and societal value structures. So, they align whimsy with winning the biggest pie… at least that’s how my brain operated at 5 years old. Industrial revolution and political agenda aside, I could be anything I wanted!
I was a Baby Einstein kid, Montessori pupil, military brat, soccer fiend, ballet bud, gymnastics goon, with baby beauty pageants and performances before the age of 5; it sets one up for a hustle mentality. Mentally wiring high concept objectives like dance or math at a young age produces some interesting feedback. Follow the system, and it will provide an inflated sense of capability if you are good, and a major inferiority complex if you take a minute to pick things up. Ah, such is life. You win some, you lose some.
When my kindergarten teacher asked what we all wanted to be, I said President of the United States. I was 5, I wanted to be the boss of my dad (Air Force Officer) and by proxy gain my personal independence. Kind of convoluted reasoning, after all,
I didn’t understand power dynamics and politics at the time, but eventually lost interest in that career goal and moved on to more interesting things.
A few years after that I would find myself in my first paying job, a print and event model for a children’s clothing store. The pay was good, the work was fun, but the energy was off. Crews were different at each location, most folks were nice, and some were downright nasty. Brush it off, do your work, get paid, do it again another day. No wonder I was smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee at 8. That lasted a couple years until our family moved to NY and I focused on school and sports more.
Cheerleading, basketball, soccer, volleyball, tap, ballet, jazz were a different kind of hustle. It is like survival. Do you have the personality and gear or make do with what you’ve got. Condition, repair, perform, repeat. Harder. Faster. Stronger. The feedback from this type of hustle pushes your physical and mental capacity, it shows you what you are made of, literally.
I had the taste of making my own money and it was frustrating to do chores for an allowance. I wanted to get paid. When I was 12, I started experimenting with weed and commerce. This was the age of the nickel and dime sack, .5 and 1g respectively. I would get an 1/8 and kick a couple grams to my friends, smoke the rest. That would get me about $15-20 for the next bag. Then I started getting quarters and selling 1/8’s to my friends, then ounces, by the time I was 18, started getting into moving some real weight across the state of NY. That was a hustle!
As a result, I had many part-time jobs, ice cream scooper, landscaper, pizza delivery, line cook, prep cook, Old Time Photo photographer, ski lift operator, gas station attendant, deli counter clerk, band merch seller, club security, ticket sales, bass player, spokes model, production assembly, industrial printing laborer, bar back, server, and freelance artist. To me, this was easy street. Outside of occasionally being robbed or having gear taken by cops, the vibe was generally chill. It was always a hustle, and still is if you want to keep your lights on and your stomach full.
I have spent the last decade in the marketing and design research field, and it brought me full circle back to cannabis. Funny to see the story arc from unregulated sales to marketing in the regulated segment. Because I was able to experiment with so many communities and vocations, I found my perspectives are broader, problem solving is keener, bias is few and balanced with empathy when it comes to design insights.
Have you looked back at your professional journey in context to your personality? Who taught you the meaning of value? How did that impact the direction of your path? This exercise always conjures up an old memory of a mentor, or a challenging time that I had surpassed, and my heart is filled with gratitude.