Open Letter: Adam Shephard

Dear Adam Shepard,

I want to thank you for your book Scratch Beginnings: Me, $25, and the Search for the American Dream. As a current member of the unemployed who has held very similar beliefs about the American Dream, this book arrived at an opportune time and has planted valuable seeds of thought.

This letter will hopefully encourage you to write further, expand your thoughts and research, and get the warm fuzzy feeling appreciated by authors that you have reached someone. In the interest of full disclosure, I should reveal now that my main intent is self-centered. You may never read my words, but I write them anyhow for the purpose of crystallizing my thoughts about your book while they’re fresh. I write this letter for my own purpose, but sincerely hope that you benefit as well.

The first thing that strikes me about your book is the audacity of your idea. Since this is an open letter, I will fill in your future readers on the idea: After graduating college, you take $25 and essential survival gear (sleeping bag, duffle bag.) and arrive in a strange town as a homeless person. Without using your network or degree, you will rise up from homeless to your own furnished residence with a car, steady work and cash in the bank, in less than a year. Why? To prove that hard work and goal-setting still pays off at the lowest levels of society.

I am a college graduate with a home, a network, and extensive experience, but I have lived the lifestyle that you experienced of heavy manual labor in a dead-end job surrounded by un-ambitious hooligans. I could never go back to the life I once lived, and I cannot imagine starting at the rung of homelessness. I had to start out low due to my lack of planning and education. If I had the choice, I doubt I would have been brave enough to attempt your experience. Kudos for going big, bringing a big set of brass balls, and executing your strategy well.

I am struck by your honest writing style. I never sensed that you were bragging or glossing over truth, even when you were pointing out your obvious strengths and bravery. Almost as brave as setting out to be homeless, your treatment of getting whooped by BG was courageous writing. Even though your tenacity overshadowed your weakness, it still took a great deal of courage to paint the bloody picture that you became within a second of the first blow.

I read both of Barbara Ehrenreich’s books that you referenced, with relish. She also has an appealing writing style and I think she revealed some important aspects of our society that we would never be aware of. Her books produced a lot of thought, and opened up my awareness to hidden aspects of our society.

Like you, I did not buy into Ehrenreich’s idea that the American Dream is a sham. Rather, I suspected that if you set out to prove it is a sham you will fulfill your own prophecy; likewise, if you set out to earnestly make your dream happen you will also find success. I didn’t enough ammunition to argue with Ehrenreich’s thesis until I read your book.

You proved to me with your experiment that paradigms play a major role in our success. Currently, I am unemployed. I was laid off from a job I enjoyed at an employer whom I respect. I worked hard and exceeded expectations, but was laid off anyhow due to the economy. When the executives realized that our revenue for the next several quarters would be lower than usual, they decided to reduce headcount to cover the loss. I had just been hired 6 months ago, and so I was one of the first selected to leave.

When you give so much to a company and get laid off, it is frustrating. On further reflection, I realize that there was absolutely nothing I could do to avoid the layoff, except to have remained in the previous job where I was stagnant and unfulfilled.

I sometimes find myself tempted to stoke feelings of bitterness and self-pity. I sometimes realize that I have developed an attitude of hopelessness, thinking that the next job will also be a waste of my time and effort. Of course, I am wrong and reading your book helped me maintain a reasonable perspective.

Shit happens. Like your broken toe and ulcer, we all run into bumps in the road that we cannot always avoid. We also run into the lucky breaks. You found a good shelter to live in, received the timely advice that landed you at Fast Company, and had a mentor in Derrick to provide guidance and motivation. I look at my own life and realize that I have made my own luck, received unexpected (and sometimes, undeserved) luck, and have had my share of bad luck as well.

I could focus on the bad luck and point to Ehrenreich’s conclusions to bury myself in hopelessness and self-pity. It is far more preferable to me that I focus on the good luck and self-made luck, point to the evidence of your example, and find a new path toward my goal.

The fact that you had a vision was probably the most important factor in your success. Many of the guys like BG who are uninspired by goals such as yours find themselves spinning their wheels. Could you have achieved your goal without the hope of it getting published? Could you have achieved your goal without knowing that you had a degree to call upon if necessary?

I would answer that you could still have achieved your goal if you could simply come up with another reason for doing so. The reward is what is important. For you, the reward was the book, and probably some mixture of self-satisfaction and respect among your family/friends. For Derrick, it is probably to raise kids in a better environment than he had. For BG, it could have been to land a sugar-momma, to prove his detractors wrong, or perhaps there was a dream job that would appeal to him (pilot, entrepreneur, private investigator, etcetera.) The key is having the vision that you can stick with, one that starts by scaring the hell out of you, and becomes so real you can taste it before you have achieved it.

On page 162, you discuss Fast Company’s relationship with its employees that really struck a chord for me. In pointing out the reason why Jed is not as successful a leader as Sherman was, you really highlight an important leadership lesson for anyone who is responsible for others. The employees were not concerned with money as much as they were with belonging to something. Napoleon said, “Leaders are dealers in hope.” Sherman helped his employees hope that no matter what was wrong with their job, at least they knew they were appreciated, protected, and fairly secure.

So many companies view their employees like Jed: unappreciative, suspicious, and callous. However, many successful companies can point directly at their human capital and say: “These are the reasons why we are successful.” It makes a tremendous difference as an employee to know your work is appreciated, not just compensated. I am far more likely to stretch my limits and risk discomfort if I know it will be appreciated.

Your conclusions really resonated with my own knowledge and experience. When arriving at pages 214-216, I transformed from passive reader to enthusiastic highlighter, and I believe I will often return to this section of your book. Mainly, I think you proved beyond any shadow of a doubt that those who are happiest at any level of life are those who seize responsibility for themselves. The contrast of Derrick and Shaun is something I have seen in my own life (I have a little Shaun and a lot of Derrick in myself waging war constantly) and in the lives of those around me. You point of assuming 60 years of hindsight and asking whether you are proud or bitter is a great method for assessing your current priorities.

Finally, I really appreciate the 7 points that you shared from your Ohio friend Neil Cotiaux. Among them, the opportunities provided by the peace corps and the military, as well the need for parenting skills mentoring are fantastic ideas for enabling more people like you and Derrick to find a path to their dreams.

Thank you for a great book, Adam. May you always find yourself able to dream bigger, achieve more, and make great friends along the way. I eagerly anticipate future works!