I Had the Degree. I Wanted the Dough.

It took me 40 years to choose the life I wanted over the one I was taught to want.

Yesterday I tried out for a job at a local bagel bakery. These try-outs, called “discovery days,” give both sides a chance to see if it’s a fit. Spoiler: I got hired. But that’s not why I’m writing this.

Earlier this week, I watched a video of Mike Rowe speaking at the Energy & Innovation Summit in Pittsburgh. Here’s what he said that stopped me in my tracks:

“We’ve been telling kids for 15 years to learn to code.
Well, AI is coming for the coders.
It’s not coming for the welders, the plumbers, the steamfitters, the pipefitters, the HVAC, or the electricians.”

He went on to talk about the massive—and growing—need for tradespeople. Not in the thousands, but in the hundreds of thousands.
The stats are astounding. You can hear them for yourself here:

And it’s not just the trades he listed. The demand for skilled hands includes the people who produce and prepare our food. That’s where my “discovery day” comes in.

The Work We’ve Undervalued

What Mike Rowe didn’t mention is how important it is to offer children and young adults options. We shouldn’t be talking about the trades just because we’re desperate to fill positions—we should never have looked down on those jobs to begin with. They’ve always had value, not just economically, but because some people thrive doing them.

In less than a day at the bagel shop, I saw more professionalism, dedication, and joy than I have in any workplace in decades. The cook training me was one of the best I’ve ever worked with. Around us, the team was cranking out bagels, flavored cream cheeses, salads, brownies, and hot meals.

At one point it hit me: people outside this kitchen probably look down on these men—and maybe on me too—for working here. That made me both sad and angry.

Every job has its downsides, and kitchen jobs are no exception. But the assumption that college—or the jobs a degree can get you—are superior in every way? That’s simply false.

I Was Supposed to “Do More”

Most people don’t know this about me, but I was once a pastry chef—well, technically an assistant pastry chef, but still. I didn’t start out in the food world. I went to college and graduated with honors, then took a white-collar job in Macy’s Management Training Program. I hated it.

Like many of my students today, I went to college because I thought I had to. I grew up in a family of lawyers and academics. My father was a litigator and law school professor. College wasn’t a choice—it was a given. The only question was which “top” school I’d attend.

So I applied Early Decision to Colby, mostly because the campus looked like my prep school. It never occurred to me to think about fit or feel. I even considered transferring, but stuck it out for the chance to study abroad—something transfer students lose.

But the truth is, the problem wasn’t just the school. It was the assumption that college and the white collar job I was taught to want after graduation was not merely a better path, it was the only path worth taking. I enjoyed my major and liked a few professors, but the experience was like a continuation of high school rather than preparation for an independent life. I probably would have learned more about myself, and what I wanted out of life if I’d spent four years abroad instead of one, without the pressure to earn “college credit” for the experience.

What my father didn’t consider—and what I never thought to tell him—was that I didn’t want the life a degree was supposed to deliver. I didn’t know not going to college was even an option. The message, then was just as clear as it is now: go to college or you won’t be “successful.”

Cooking Wasn’t Just a Hobby

Had we talked about what I actually liked doing, I might have gone to culinary school instead of college. At the age of ten, after my mom left, and because my dad worked late, I started making meals for my sister and me, and eventually—because my food was better than the hotdog stand near his office, for my father too. We’re not talking about grilled cheese sandwiches, or spaghetti either. After learning how to cook scrambled eggs, I went straight to cheese soufflé, because why not? There was no one around to tell me it was too hard, so I also wasn’t surprised it turned out perfectly the first time. But I was proud—prouder and more satisfied than I’d ever felt getting an ‘A’ grade, that’s for sure.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t until years later, when I was desperate to leave the mind-numbing boredom and bureaucratic nightmare that was my job at Macy’s, that I finally chose a path less taken. I saw a “Help Wanted” sign in a gourmet food shop and bakery near my parents’ house. Impulsively, I walked in and asked to apply. I got a trial shift the next day.

I spent a year there, then headed to culinary school on the West Coast while working retail to pay my bills. But despite enjoying the work tremendously, I soon felt the familiar (familial) pressure to "make something of myself.” Regretfully, I succumbed to it, went to grad school for education, and consoled myself with the thought that I could cook on the side, or for my family, and at least teaching had better hours and benefits—right?

Wrong. I had no time to cook on the side, but more importantly, I loathed school-based teaching. The same bureaucracy and artificial structures I’d hated in retail were everywhere. After two years, I fled to private tutoring and office administrative work—quiet, independent, but hollow work.

In the mid-90s, I walked away from that emptiness again, and went back to cooking school and restaurant work as an assistant pastry chef at The ‘21’ Club in New York, which I loved, but the hours left no space for anything else. I was thirty and wanted a family. Staying meant giving that up.

That’s when I started to feel I’d missed my window. If I’d gone to culinary school in the first place, instead of college, I could’ve built a decade of experience by thirty. Maybe then I’d have had the skills—and leverage—to shape a career that also left space for a life.

I left the restaurant world in 1996, and I haven’t been back since.
Until yesterday.

A Word to the Parents

So this is what I want parents to take away from my story: not every job worth doing requires a college degree, and not every child needs one to build a good life. College isn’t a golden ticket—it’s just one path, and sometimes not the right one. We’ve spent decades pushing young people away from work that’s meaningful, practical, and often better paid than the desk jobs we train them to covet. Worse, we’ve made them feel like failures for wanting anything else.

I’m not romanticizing the trades—there’s hard, physical labor involved, and at 59, I’m feeling every bit of it. I’ll need to rebuild strength and stamina just to hold my own in that bagel kitchen. But for the first time in a long time, I’m excited to show up for work—not to impress anyone, not to climb anything, but to do something I enjoy without the voice in my head asking, “Is this really what you’re going to do with your life?”
No more chasing approval. No more mistaking status for satisfaction.
Just honest work, on my own terms.

So before you push your child toward the “best” school or the “smartest” career, pause. Ask what actually interests them—not what impresses others. Encourage them to explore paths beyond the college-default mindset. Help them research trades, apprenticeships, culinary schools, certification programs—anything that expands their view of what’s possible. Talk less about getting a “good job”—especially if what you really mean is one that sounds respectable or pays well right away. Help your child define what good means for them. What looks like a step down to you might actually suit them perfectly—or even help them get farther ahead, faster, by building a career that’s sustainable, fulfilling, and truly their own.

P.S. A Personal and Professional Note

Although I’m shifting into the early-morning rhythm of bakery life, I’ll still be tutoring in the afternoons and on weekends. That part of my work continues to bring me joy—I still love helping students learn how to learn, and learn to love it.

I'm also excited to introduce a new offering through the Cogito Learning Center:

To College or Not to College? (Individual or Small Group Workshop)
This interactive workshop invites high school students to explore a wide range of post–high school pathways beyond the traditional four-year college route. Through guided discussion, real-world case studies, and self-assessment tools, they’ll consider options like trade schools, apprenticeships, entrepreneurship, gap years, and more—giving them space to begin charting a future that fits their goals, strengths, and values.

Parents can learn more at cogitolearningcenter.com.