One of my favorite memories of my dad is when I called him as a junior to ask for his advice about a job. I could either work on campus in a major-related postion or take a job in a "real" workplace also related to my major. The job off campus was kind of "menial" work and would involve a long commute, but I'd make lots of great contacts and have something "different" on my resume. He said, "I don't know what to tell you. You've made great decisions up until now. I trust you'll do it this time, too." How empowering and liberating -- I was definitely launched at that point.
<p>One of my LEAST favorite memories of my father is somewhat similar.</p>
<p>I was in my twenties. I had just started a job in a big city and was commuting from a suburb an hour away. I found it very difficult to do my banking because the bank branch near my home was closed by the time I got home from work, and there were no banks that had branches both near my home and near my job (this was long before there were nationwide banks such as Bank of America). My father had also been a commuter in the same general geographic area at one point in his career, so I thought it might be a good idea to ask him how he had dealt with his banking during that period. He said, "This is something you should be able to figure out for yourself. You're too old to be coming to me with questions like this."</p>
<p>I did not feel empowered. Quite the opposite. I felt that an important choice (getting advice from my father or choosing not to ask for it) had been taken away from me. I was deeply offended, and I never asked him for advice of any kind again. Ever. </p>
<p>I also never figured out a solution to the banking problem except to impose on my husband, who had a local job, to make all my deposits and withdrawals, a solution that neither of us considered satisfactory.</p>