I was raised to believe that going to college was the only right path.
But later, a friend of mine dropped out and started training as a machinist—and somehow, he ended up living much more freely than most of us.
He’s not what you'd call especially “smart,” but he has this intuitive sense for metal, welding, and machines.
Every day he works in the shop, sweating through long shifts, but somehow still has the energy at night to tell us stories—about the machine he fixed, or how he spotted a tiny issue just by the sound it made.
That feeling of solving something and seeing the result immediately. I’ve never felt that in a year of sitting at a desk.
Sometimes I wonder if being truly respectable isn’t about how much you earn, but whether you feel proud of what you do.