VA

In my initial planning of this piece, I really wanted to understand what message I wanted to give and why I felt I needed to write. Did I want to write this so that the people coming behind me can have more clarity about their endeavours? Did I want to write in some ways to convince myself of this decision? Did I want to write in the hope that in the midst of these words I would find the essence and assurance one so longs to have when making a transition? In all honesty, I think it’s a mixture of all of the above. I’ve learnt to forgive myself for not always having pure intentions — part of my grappling with myself over the past few years has meant that I’ve come to terms with the fact that our intentions as humans will always be weaved with a myriad of intentions. The good, the broken, the ambitious and the reluctant. An element of goodness sure but also an element of our insecurities and vices. I’m comfortable with that. The beauty of humanity is that great virtue can always simultaneously be found in the midst of great brokenness. Even crooked sticks can draw straight lines.

I’m often still so surprised when people approach me and let me know that in some ways have been encouraged or inspired by my example. At first, I would underplay it as a means to avoid an awkward reaction I had not yet been able to fully embrace. But more recently I’ve come to accept this interesting responsibility. I guess it’s the social contract of our times — when you express who you are and the things you stand for — the people who resonate with your message in one way or another then form part of your audience. They come to your various social media outlets and consume your content as a reflection of this contract. When you change — they then have a decision to stick with you while in the transition of new perspectives and ideas or if the transition being produced isn’t what they initially signed up for they are then allowed to unfollow, stop liking, unsubscribe, etc. I haven’t had this relationship much because my social media hasn’t been optimised for such an audience but there is a distinct tone and framing I use which seems to have resonated with some people. For that reason, I feel an obligation of some sort to provide the rationale for my career change. In particular, this is for the self-described “little man”; the brothers and sisters on the come-up who, like me, have had to navigate working-class backgrounds, battles with poverty, competing demands and as a result have made wealth generation a goal. I wholly understand this experience — the nuance, the subtleties of such a journey and the overall desire to provide a better tomorrow for yourself and your loved ones; and in some ways, as someone a few years ahead I hope this piece can provide some context. For others who are intrigued by my move, I hope this is of some value.

A month back I decided to leave my career in finance to pursue another opportunity. It’s been a thought for a while as I consider how our world is changing. The world we have now is a very different one to the one which we had in 2015 when I doubled down on pursuing a career in finance. The United Kingdom had not voted to leave the European Union. Donald Trump had not yet been inaugurated as the 45th President of the United States of America and more recently the COVID-19 pandemic had not fundamentally changed how we imagine both life and work. On the surface it may not register immediately as to how such large macroeconomic events should play a part in the career choices of an individual; however, history provides a unique canvas to interpret how such events largely underscore the changing dynamics of that particular time; whether that be as a result of technological innovation or rising world powers which causes a significant shift in international relations. In many instances, there’s a necessity in us to read between the lines and infer what the current events of our times are saying about the world we are creating. Therefore on a risk-adjusted basis, I have decided to pivot out of my career in traditional finance and join a newly-formed fintech startup. This is not the quintessential “I hated my job so I left” post. I think there’s a respect for nuance that I have to provide for the primary target audience I would like this post to reach. It’s not as simple in some contexts to say I hated my job so I left — there’s a lot more at play when you’re foundation building.

When I was 15 and at the crossroads of adolescence I met a young man called Joseph. As a teenager with a rather strained relationship with my father — he was everything my heart didn’t know how to articulate I needed. I wanted to become like him. He was cool, kind and thoughtful. He was always well received by people and there seemed to be an ease in which he would manage his affairs. He was the first person to tell me about investment banking. I still remember a conversation we had — we had just finished a youth group session and he asked me to research banking — an industry I had been mildly acquainted with from debris of discussions that had come from the Global Financial Crash in 2008 but one that I had no real exposure to. I did research and saw that the industry was a significant generator of wealth and one of a few industries in the U.K. that were internationally competitive. I messaged Joe on Facebook with the information I had found and relayed back to him with great excitement the opportunity to participate in such an industry. I was still in secondary school and managing a time in which I was looking to move past the bad student reputation I had built myself. I parked the idea of finance and being in investment banking and went through the rounds with my education. I managed to progress through school, sixth form (eventually) and then into undergrad. By the time I had started at University — it had been just over a year since Joseph had unexpectedly passed away. He was as fit as a fiddle and about to get married. He had deposited a seed in me and departed. Looking back in hindsight, my relationship with him and the love and care he showed me has informed me so much of who I am that it’s frankly impossible to imagine myself without not having met him. Any mention of my life has to make mention of the profound role he played. I endeavoured that the seed he planted would not die in the ground — there would be a harvest.

By the time I started university I had become relatively well-versed with the nuances of getting a career within finance: I had sent out cold emails, sent LinkedIn connections and collected business cards at networking events. I had asked questions. I had (tried to) read the Financial Times quite frequently (still prefer The Economist). I was well placed in my first year of university and managed to get onto a few insight programmes, followed by an internship that provided the opportunity for me to come back full-time once I had completed my degree. I look back now and I realise that in many ways that is one of the most formal and refined paths to social mobility available. You don’t necessarily acknowledge in real-time that you’re becoming “socially mobile” rather you just spend hours pouring over Investopedia and Bloomberg trying to get your head around what can sometimes seem like a foreign language (if this is where you currently are then stick with it — trust me it will make sense over time). With persistence, help from university friends and good old Google I managed to make my way through the recruiting circuit and get firmly into the talent pipeline. When I received the full-time offer on the last day of my internship it was an emotional moment. I had an impression that the trajectory of my life had fundamentally shifted and it was right. A culmination of efforts My time at J.P. Morgan will always be an important part of my life. A period in which I’ll look back on with great fondness and immense gratitude.

Working at J.P. Morgan for the last 3 years has been a great experience for me. I always found it difficult when people would inquire about the intensity of the industry and the role. In comparison to some of the earlier years of my life and secondary school — granted there were challenges but it wasn’t life and death. I always say that if you can navigate through an inner-city London secondary school then you’re well placed with the right temperament to do well in finance. The opportunity to do challenging work and engage with some of the most important financial organisations in the world will always be a gift. Growing up in an under-resourced and underserved community helps provide you with a certain perspective that allows you to always see the relative good in a situation. I always saw my time in finance as a paid learning experience. An apprenticeship within a viable and competitive industry and as a first-generation wealth-builder was a profound opportunity to build a financial foundation. I was able to build an international network that I’m grateful for. I was provided with a plethora of learning opportunities that have allowed me to develop both personally and professionally. All while being immersed in an atmosphere that wrestled daily with the balance of risk and reward.

“There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.”

In Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Brutus and Cassius are strategising about the final stage of the civil war they are fighting with Octavian and Marcus Antonius’ forces. Cassius urges Brutus and his associates to assemble their forces at a secure location at Sardis, to take full advantage of catching their breath. In essence, they had been provided with a significant opportunity in the war and had to act immediately as the ratio of forces has now become favourable to them. In other words, they had found leverage and if they were to be successful they would need to act imminently.

The late Nipsey Hussle said: “I weighed the risk and the reward and saw the scale tippin’” When we look at the events unfolding in our world it’s clear to see that the scale is tipping in favour of creators, contributors and curators. Technology is empowering people to pursue opportunities they couldn’t have dreamed of across domains they could have never imagined. This will be the direction of flow for the new economy in the fourth industrial revolution. We sit at the beginning of this period and have been invited to participate. If you can pivot accordingly the opportunities will be endless. Growing up where I’m from, opportunities are scarce but one thing I can tell you about the people I came up with — they are extremely resourceful. They are alchemists consistently creating something out of nothing. The questions of risk and reward I saw while working in finance were not too dissimilar in nature from the same questions we were forced to ask in our teens. We weighed the risk and reward and made assessments based on where we saw the scale tip.

For those coming behind me navigating their own path in this world I hope I can provide a few recommendations for the journey ahead:

(1) Have a mentor(s) — it will be important for you to have someone or a group of people who can provide encouragement and inspiration for you along your journey. There will be moments where you’ll feel disheartened, uninspired and tired. It’s important that you have a system of accountability to keep you on track.

(2) Be impatient in the short term but patient in the long term. Be fixated with all the things you can do to reach your goals; read, learn (and unlearn if necessary) and implement diligently — but don’t concern yourself too much with the payout of it all, be confident that if you remain consistent with your efforts — you’ll eventually see results.

(3) Never be afraid to take calculated risks. Learn the rules of engagement for the world and assess what opportunities you could explore. When those opportunities arise, be confident in your preparation and leap. The world is changing drastically and we’re all being invited to participate in the change.

I’m from those flats, I was always going to roll the dice.