A Garbage Man’s Story

One afternoon when I was five or six, I was playing with my favorite toy Matchbox cars on our front lawn when a large sanitation truck turned the corner and began to make its way up our street. I watched it with mild interest as it lumbered slowly toward our driveway (my cars where much more interesting).

It stopped right in front of me and a plump cheery man stepped out of the driver’s compartment, said hello and asked if I wanted to help him load and “squash” the garbage. Hell yes! I jumped right up and we had a blast throwing the garbage into the huge steel bin. Then he led me around the side and (with his help) I pushed over the red lever which activated the compactor. It was the biggest feeling of power I had ever had.

As soon as he left I ran into the house, shouting for my mom. “Mom, I know what I want to be when I grow up,” I declared. She smiled at me proudly with the words doctor, senator and president flashing through her mind.

“What?” she asked, smiling.

“I want to be a garbage man!!”

You could hear her screaming two blocks away.

When my father got home that night, I explained what happened. As is usual with my father, he sat me down and asked, “Why?” I told him it looked fun. “What looks fun?” he asked. “Throwing the garbage in and pulling the lever,” I replied.

He took me into the kitchen and said if I wanted to be a garbage man, he was behind me all the way. But, he said I should try it out first by gathering the trash from the entire house and putting it in the trash can outside.

As I made my way through the house, it occurred to me that I did not want to be a garbage man. Pulling the lever was fun, but the rest totally sucked.

History often repeats itself, as it did with me two years ago. As I prepared to come to Cornell, I met with a long time family friend who happened to be an investment banker. He told me how exciting the field was, how intellectually stimulating it all was and how much money I could make doing it. Another red lever was staring me in the face.

I began my job search almost the first day I arrived. I sent hundreds of letters and resumes to alumni throughout the investment banking field. I learned about the industry, read the Wall Street Journal religiously, became an officer of the Finance Club and drove to the city more times than I can remember. It was a tough time, especially since my heart wasn’t totally in it. But I kept going on, just as I walked through my house collecting garbage all those years ago. There was still the idea that I would meet and work with some of the smartest people in the world, putting together deals worth billions of dollars and making a decent living as well.

I went on more than 15 interviews. By interview 8, I realized investment banks weren’t for me. By interview 12, commercial banks were out. Interview 13 and on was in finance on the corporate side. Finally as May approached, things were looking mighty bad.

Then I spoke with a friend of mine who suggested I look at one of the large advertising firms. Perhaps with my background I could get in to the finance department. For the first time since I started the process, I really got excited. The thought of being around so much creativity was almost too much for me.

I targeted the largest agency in New York City, Grey Advertising, went on two interviews and got an offer. The whole thing took one week. The best part of my internship was that I rotated through finance, strategic services, media and account management. Everyone I spoke with said the job was perfect for me. No one ever said that when I interviewed with the investment banks.

By the time I left Grey, I was collecting no more garbage. I got more out of the marketing and advertising than I did out the finance. The moral? Don’t collect garbage only to pull the lever. If you like playing with Matchbox cars, play with Matchbox cars. The levers will come.

Originally published in the Johnson School Career Planner at Cornell University where H.B. got his MBA in 1995.