Learning Cybersecurity, One “Dad Day” at a Time
Aspiring cybersecurity professionals quickly get familiar with the barrage of advertisements for educational programs promising comprehensive foundational learning, career development, and a quick path into the profession. Go from Zero to Hero! Zero to Employed in Three Months! Become a cybersecurity professional in 24 weeks! (Disclaimer: I am enrolled in this program and it’s great). I’ll save the debate about the authenticity and ethics of these advertising claims for another day. One thing is certain, however: whatever path you choose, it takes a tremendous amount of time, focus, energy, and effort to qualify for an entry-level job in this field.
As of this writing, my records show that I have spent north of 400 hours on my quest to become a cybersecurity professional since April 2020. This includes time spent in boot camp classes, doing homework, completing tutorials, studying for certification exams, reading industry publications, listening to podcasts, and networking with industry professionals. I love what I’m doing, which is the main reason that it’s such a high priority for me. However, my top priority is being a good parent to my son Malcolm.
In the quest to enter the fascinating world of cybersecurity, it is easy to feel overwhelmed. Fortunately, there is a growing awareness of mental health impacts in the cybersecurity industry, with terms like “SOC Burnout” going mainstream. However, we students of cybersecurity (or indeed any highly-technical pursuit with a steep learning curve) must also protect our physical and mental wellbeing so that we can be there for the ones we love.
I have workaholic tendencies, and my ambition has bumped up against my mental health in the past. I grew up playing the highland bagpipes on a highly competitive level, and still do so in a semi-professional capacity. During college I commuted six hours (or more, depending on border lineup) weekly from Seattle, Washington to Vancouver, British Columbia for band practice, competitions, and performances. I had incredible experiences and formed many of my closest friendships that way, but also neglected my health, shortchanged my studies, and diminished friendships closer to home.
When discussing how to balance family life with artistic pursuits, a bagpiper friend of mine memorably said to me, “Malcolm only gets one chance to be a child.” This friend has also lived the pressure-cooker life of a successful Hollywood actor, so he knows what he’s talking about, and his words struck me.
I had always said I believed in showing up as a husband and father, as well as taking care of myself physically, mentally, and spiritually. Now that I am engaged in a long-term career transition effort, that commitment is put to the test. It isn’t easy. For the bulk of the coronavirus pandemic my son has been without paid child care, which where I live is incredibly expensive and scarce even under normal circumstances. Now in daycare, Malcolm has been home with me for four days of the past week due to hazardous air quality from the wildfires in Oregon.
I love my son, and the time we spend together. His enthusiasm for life is amazing, and I am awe-struck to witness his rapidly-expanding awareness of the world around us. However, he is a toddler, and he requires my full attention to keep him safe and nurtured. I am not studying, doing homework, networking, or reading during the time that he is awake and in my care.
Enter the “Dad Day,” a concept shared with me by my good friend, fellow parent, and technology professional Brett Galimidi. The duration of a Dad Day depends on how long both these conditions are met: your toddler is sleeping, and you have energy to learn. Household work, quality time with other family members, self-care, (and, you know, your day job), can all impact the length of the Dad Day. For me, a Dad Day typically lasts from two to four hours. Depending on your unique situation, it could last longer, shorter, or be nonexistent. I know that tons of parents who are striving to learn and better themselves can relate.
The lessons of the Dad Day are acceptance, humility, and pride. Fatherhood is a wonderful experience, and the fact that we are balancing it with the tremendous challenge of learning cybersecurity (or any other challenging discipline) is a testament to our fortitude. We accept that our studies, fascinating though we find them, take a backseat to the health, safety, and enrichment of our families. We try to live in humility, understanding that our physical and mental energies are limited. We can’t be “on” all the time, even if we want to. But we take pride in the fact that our children will grow up knowing that their dad took on a major challenge when they were little — one that tested their minds, bodies, and spirits. Through it all, we stayed motivated, kept our eyes on the prize, and remained true to the deep love we have for others.
