I first understood the significance of work at 6 years old. I was at Toys “R” Us with my mom and desperately wanted a Star Wars figurine. With every ounce of convincing, I begged my mom, but she said no.
My mother tried to explain that she hadn’t gotten any overtime at work and didn’t have extra money for toys. She told me I could get a job and buy all the figurines I wanted when I got older.
Those words instilled in me the idea that work would be an important part of my life and my path to all the “grown” things.
My mother reinforced the importance of work as she raised my siblings and me. She is from Mombasa, Kenya, and my stepdad, who raised me from age 2, is from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. My birth father was from Chicago (he passed away), and I was born in Wisconsin. I’m a first-generation African-American.
Being raised by immigrant parents meant an expectation — at least in our home — of studying hard, outworking our peers and attending college to get a good job.
My parents would often talk about how our family in Kenya would do anything to have the opportunity to come to America, get an American job and earn an income in dollars.
I got my first job at 15, with a church cleaning crew. I can still remember the surreal feeling of getting my first paycheck. And yes, I did buy new Star Wars figurines.
As I grew up, I got more “adult” jobs. At 16, I worked at Burger King. When I turned 18, I got a job at Pepsi. I started in the warehouse and then got my commercial driver’s license to drive semitrucks. At 19, I got a job working for Sara Lee Bakery. With each higher-paying job, I worked more and felt prouder.
I started my first business close to my 20th birthday. It was a trucking business that grew quickly. Becoming an entrepreneur cemented how much I tied my identity to my work — it made me feel superior to have started a business.
My family also told everyone they knew about the success of my business, furthering my ego and views of success. Whenever I’d meet someone new as an adult, the first question they’d ask is: “What do you do?” And then we’d begin talking about our professional lives, even if we weren’t in a professional setting. Work, it seemed to me, was always the foundation, the most important piece.
I became a father who worked to support my family. As my business grew, I was the happiest person you’d ever met. When revenue was low, I felt like a loser and worthless to my wife and kids. On average, I worked long hours (12 hours a day), thought about work when I wasn’t working, and had little life outside of work.
My kids got older; they went to high school and got their own jobs. I took pride in their work and made a point to often ask about their jobs. But I began to notice something: Their attitude toward their work was vastly different from mine at their age.
They saw themselves as more than what they “do,” or how much money they made — their work was a much smaller component of their life than it had been for me when I was their age.
They saw themselves as more than what they “do,” or how much money they made — their work was a much smaller component of their life than it had been for me when I was their age.
As I had more conversations with my children in the workforce — ranging in ages from 21 to 29 — how they viewed work began to challenge how I viewed work and chipped away at its connection to my identity.
Charese L. Josie, a licensed clinical therapist and leadership development trainer who’s worked with different generations in the workforce, tells TODAY.com that she’s seen firsthand how Gen Z’s attitude toward work differs from that of previous generations.
“They don’t believe they need to be at a job for years,” she says. “They view jobs as opportunities, as a moment in time toward a larger goal.”
I’ve seen no shortage of commentators, pundits and articles from my and older generations that offer opinions of Gen Z’s work ethic. I can’t tell you how often I’ve heard someone say that Gen Z is a lazy generation that doesn’t care about their jobs.
Research has outlined what Gen Z brings to the corporate world — a demand for diversity and inclusion as well as greater flexibility, and yes, likely also a lower engagement, or commitment, to their jobs and their employers, according to research from Gallup.
What I’ve seen missing from the Gen Z conversation is that they are the first generation to not tie their identity to their work.
I have five Gen Z children in the workforce, and a millennial who owns a business. My children have told me they see their jobs as a way to earn the money they need to enjoy life. They work to live — they don’t live to work.
My children have told me they don’t buy into the belief that you work hard for 50 years to enjoy maybe the last 10 years of your life. They aren’t going to build someone else’s dream. They will use all the company benefits, such as sick days and time off, and not see it as being a bad employee.
Gen Z believes that the world is bigger than just their work. I hear them talk about the environment, the people before them, and those coming after them. It’s really important to live a big dimensional life, and work is one part of it.
Vincent Donroe-Wells, business professor
“Gen Z believes that the world is bigger than just their work,” Vincent Donroe-Wells, a business professor at Savannah College of Art and Design, tells TODAY.com. “I hear them talk about the environment, the people before them, and those coming after them. It’s really important to live a big dimensional life, and work is one part of it. Work is almost the means to help them have experiences, do better and seek out adventure. It’s much different than the groups that have come before them.”
That’s not what my immigrant parents taught me about work. But my children understand work in ways my generation didn’t — and maybe that’s something we could learn from.
Through therapy, I realized just how much I had tied my identity to work, and began to understand that I am a complete person without work or my business. Over time — and with my kids’ help — I came to see work for what it is, at least for me: a way to be financially independent and spend my time doing things that I love.
My business brings travel opportunities, but each trip is for more than work — I take time off to explore and have fun, something I never would have considered doing when I was younger.