10 things I learned as a custodian at Pope High School (besides how to wax a floor)

This is a sequel to my post “10 things I learned in College.” When I graduated in 1991, the job market was almost as grim as it is now — particularly in the media industry.  I ended up moving back home, diploma in hand, and working as a high school custodian at Alan C. Pope High School in Marietta, Georgia.  My job was to clean six classrooms, the 400-hall boys bathroom, the band room and scrub the cafeteria.  I also vacuumed the library.  It was not the job that an honors graduate would seek — particularly one who had won a ton of awards in his chosen field. But it was where I ended up.  I was there for my fifth year of high school and I was miserable.

Now I look at it as my master’s degree in life.  For all the great opportunities I received in college (I would not be here today without them), I also would not be here without what I learned from cleaning tile floors. It was the year that I grew up.

Here are 10 things I learned while being a custodian:

1. Your worst moments can turn into your best. This was reinforced when I had cancer and recently when I had my career turned on its ear. But when I was a janitor (what I thought was the low point in my life), I met a person at the school who had a lovely daughter.  That daughter is now the mother of my three children and my wife of 19 years.  I wouldn’t have met Amy if I had not been at Pope High School. She fell in love with me when I was a janitor. (I think she really married me because she hoped I would clean the house. Oh well.)

2. You are not your job. When people looked down on me because I was cleaning toilets, my pride hated it. But I learned that I am not my job. It’s something I remembered when I when I was at the top of my career as a cartoonist. And it is something I remembered when I was made part-time. I’ve seen too many people crumble when they lose their jobs.  My job isn’t what defines me. It’s what feeds my family.

3. Good people are good people, no matter their social status. Kind of seems like a no-brainer.  But I learned that ever person has a great story to tell.  I worked with great people at Pope. No matter what their paycheck.

4. Never stop learning. Just because I was out of school, I didn’t stop learning. I read library books during breaks.  I took classes during the day.  That’s why I call my year at Pope my fifth year of high school. I read over 50 books that year.

5. A pity party is only enjoyed by the person who is throwing it. I felt REALLY sorry for myself for about six months.  Then I realized even I was getting sick of myself.  By being miserable, I was creating a self-fulling prophecy — I was making my life miserable.

6. Don’t be the servant who buries his talent. During my pity party, I had stopped drawing.  One Sunday, I went to church and heard the parable of the talents. I realized I was the servant who was afraid and was burying his talents.  I started drawing  t-shirts, caricatures and cartoons again. My attitude improved and the next thing I know, one of the teachers hooked me up with her friend who worked at the local newspaper. The rest is, as they say, history.

7. I learned the value and satisfaction of a hard day’s work. Scrubbing tile floors and cleaning bathroom wasn’t exactly my dream job. But I learned that my effort and attitude made the day go by much easier.  My work ethic was supercharged back then. It is something I depend on today. And I have appreciated every job I’ve had since.

8. Stuffing a text book and a roll of toilet paper in a toilet and then pooping on it is not funny. Enough said.

9. Find people who believe in your talent and stick close to them. My friend Luke Prescott, who was a science teacher and the Cross Country Coach at Pope, believed in my ability. He gave me chances to draw the CC team’s t-shirts.  He still motivates me today. There were people who were sent into my life during that year to make sure I became what I am today.

10. Worry won’t take you where you want to go. While I was having my pity party, I was completely worried that I’d always be a custodian.  I couldn’t see the future because I was obsessing with the past. Once I stopped worrying and started taking positive action toward my goals, I started making rapid progress up the career ladder. Within three years, I was a nationally syndicated editorial cartoonist who worked at a national syndicate based in California.  It is a lesson that I’m remembering currently as I worry about my future.  I know that while times seem tough now, the harder I work, the sooner great things will happen. It provides hope.  And hope destroys all worry.

I like to go over to Pope and run on their track occasionally.  It grounds me and reminds me of the year that forged me into what I am today. College made me into iron. Working as a custodian made me into steel.