There’s a saying in Italy that goes almost like “If you miss the train, it’s gone”. Maybe the closest English variant is “Opportunity only knocks once”. Both mean that in life you basically only get one shot. Sometimes I find myself dwelling unnecessarily on certain choices I made in the past that influenced my geological career, and ten years after leaving the field, I still sometimes reflect on this. It’s pointless because you can’t change the past, and if things are the way they are today, there must be a reason for it, and there’s nothing you can do about it. At most, one can reflect on the choices made in order to provide guidance to our children and, why not, understand that perhaps there are no right or wrong choices, only different ones, choices that have led to different outcomes. We can play at imagining how things would have turned out, what results different choices would have led to. We can, but how useful is that? I’m not sure, but here I am, ten years after the “debacle,” reflecting on how, in the end, I can’t complain too much…

As a kid, I dreamed of becoming a scientist. But also a guitarist. And maybe many other things too. To the point that I’m not really sure what my true dream was, the dream I didn’t fulfill. I didn’t do much about my other dreams. For example, I never studied guitar and never really considered a career in music. The first obstacle was the idea that, at the time, to study guitar you had to go to conservatory and study classical guitar. It would have done me a lot of good, of course, but classical music was not at all in my interests, and schools for modern guitar, rock, blues, etc., did not exist. So that option was ruled out from the start. Let’s just say that my parents didn’t push me in that direction, but they did push me towards getting a university degree. So I ‘opted’ for science and ended up becoming a geologist. And soon after, I think I already missed one or two opportunities…

There weren’t many university graduates in my family. My parents weren’t, and only one of my father’s brothers had a degree, but it was in literature. In short, I had no idea how the academic world worked. I had no idea what to do after graduation to try to stay in touch and eventually find a way to become part of it. Those who knew, because they had families behind them with clear ideas about what to do, or those who figured it out because they were much ‘smarter’ than me, succeeded and with considerable success. I, on the other hand, stupidly started doing what seems natural to ordinary people after they graduate: I started looking for a job. But even there, what does a geologist do apart from the so-called ‘profession’ (the job of those affiliated with the Professional Association, in the construction industry), a job I would never have considered, since I enrolled in geology because it is a science, like its cousin, astronomy. How naive. If I had known beforehand that this was what a geologist’s job entailed, I certainly wouldn’t have enrolled in geology, just as I never considered civil engineering, which was totally outside my interests. I couldn’t come to terms with it: my passion for geology as a science had been instilled in me by excellent professors, by my thesis work, and by spectacular lectures that left me breathless. And now that I’ve finally graduated, the prospect is to supervise borehole drillings, carry out laboratory tests on soil, identify landslides, etc.? All these years of studying, with sacrifices made by me and my parents, while my friends who graduated were building a life and starting a family, and this is what awaits me? If I had known, I would have looked for a job after high school!

But on second thought, university shaped me much more than school did, and regardless of the subject I studied, my mind learned to reason and tackle problems while studying at university. At school, I was lucky enough to have a brilliant teacher who encouraged us to think for ourselves. That’s a lot, but apart from him, school is what it is, and when I finished high school, looking back on it now, I was completely helpless. After graduating from university, I was a little less so, in the sense that I had a thinking mind and was confident that I could tackle different types of problems and learn new things. But I was still helpless in other ways. I naively thought I had to find a job because my family had already made financial sacrifices and couldn’t support me any longer during the post-graduate precariousness that a wannabe prospective researcher necessarily has to face in my country. At the same time, I believed that doing any job would be a waste of the degree that my parents had allowed me to obtain through their sacrifices.I had to work as a geologist, otherwise nothing would make sense. But how? If university wasn’t an option, where could a structural geologist like me find employment? I had found the answer during a seminar on structural geology in my final year, given by two American structural geologists from Chevron. They presented their work on thrusts. It was spectacular. They worked for industry but did research. Maybe that was the key. So I started sending my resume to a huge list of oil companies around the world. Result: zero.

Yet a first small opportunity had come along shortly after graduation: my professor told me about the possibility of obtaining a scholarship for a PhD. He sent me to carry out preliminary surveys in a certain area, as a way to begin to get a grasp of the issues involved. Then he told me that other new geologists who had graduated before me had not received the expected scholarships, due to particular dynamics between geology departments in the country, and unfortunately he had to prioritize them. So these people had access to the PhD program, and I know one of them well, who is now a full professor.

On another occasion, I found myself asking for a letter of recommendation from my thesis co-supervisor, a geologist at the National Institute of Geophysics, where I had carried out some research for my thesis. I will never forget the feeling of failure when he told me that we young people do not understand how important it is, if interested, we can stay where we worked at our thesis: we would continue that work, in fact there is a need for it, yes, without pay, but sooner or later something would come out of it; a scholarship, a doctorate… Today, I think of a friend who did just that. He persevered for years, even without a doctorate, but in the end he was hired and is now a geologist at the prestigious Italian institute.

I, on the other hand, entered a downward spiral that could have led to depression, sending out resumes without a real strategy, with my age advancing and making my unemployment increasingly dangerous, a life that wasn’t taking off, no money, no women, no home… I graduated at 26 (yes, at tht time the university degree was like a bachelor plus a master’s – you had to complete it all, and discuss a research thesis that could take up to 2 years to finish) and until I was at least 30, I wandered around without seeing a way out. I did various jobs but always left them because I had to be a geologist. People started to think I was a failure, and maybe I did too. But I persisted. And in the end, a miracle happened. In reality, it’s the only thing that works in the job market: connections, networks of acquaintances created even just through the ability to maintain good relationships with people, not necessarily work-related. It’s the only thing that works, that ensures that when a potential employer needs someone, they think of you. Someone had thought of me for a geological job of some importance. I had to carry out geological surveys during the excavation of an important tunnel for the Italian motorway system. Although I considered myself quite rusty and perhaps not up to the task, it was a great success. And in the end, after that job, someone else thought of me for something more: a research grant at a university, two years to carry out structural geological surveys in a specific area of the Apennines, with the possibility of traveling abroad. It was a dream come true. I was beside myself with excitement. I was finally right, I persevered, and in the end, the turning point came, and I realized my dream. In fact, it was the door that opened for me to realize it: it never happens that after so many years, almost ten, the doors of the academic world reopen for you. In fact, the terms were clear: two years of scholarship were not a prelude to anything more, just a great opportunity to gain high-level experience and create a strategic network of contacts for the future. A wonderful opportunity had come along and I had seized it, excited about the realization of a dream I had pursued and which I was beginning to think was just a manifestation of my immaturity. Instead, I had been right, and I was beginning to be seen as someone who had managed to realise his dreams.

From then on, my life began to improve steadily. I had almost hit rock bottom, then I got my first real job as a geologist and even became a university researcher! The crazy thing was that my two-year research grant also included a period at a English university that collaborated with the department I had joined. In short, it was a golden period. And I reached my peak when, after England, I also spent a month in the United States, where I was able to show off my considerable skills as a field geologist and structuralist. These were things that I could only have dreamed of a few years earlier and that anyone would have considered unachievable given the time that had passed since my graduation (the infamous ten years). Well, this American university wanted me in their department. The idea was to return the following year as a doctoral student, which they considered an important addition to their department. I have never felt so professionally appreciated in my life. And it was shocking because of the times in which it had developed. It had taken me seven years to get my first job as a geologist after graduating. After another two years, I was a university researcher. The following year, I was invited to do a PhD in the US. It was an amazing rise, from zero to what I could consider the top in just three years! I was at the peak of my geological career.How much had I dreamed of doing that kind of geology, which at that moment was exactly my job? And doing that at university? An inspiring place for me, in an environment where science is studied for the sake of knowledge. And how many times had I dreamed of doing it in England, the home of geology, and in the USA, where so much of modern geology had been advanced? And there I was, in the United States, with the idea of moving there the following year to continue my career once my two-year scholarship was over.

Living in a dream is an incredible feeling. I will never forget it. And I will never forget the harsh reality check when I returned to Italy. What seemed wonderful to me was absurd to most of my colleagues: what do you do after a PhD in the US? Here in Italy, no one wants you if you come back with an American PhD. Others told me how they had also received this kind of offer but in the end didn’t feel like taking it. In short, what I saw as the pinnacle of my rise in life, others saw as a leap into the dark. Did they have more experience than me? Or were they jealous? My friends leaned towards the latter. Those who had had that opportunity and hadn’t had the courage to seize it could only speak negatively about it. Some even went so far as to say, “Are they any better than us? No way. . . .” A not-so-subliminal message about how much they thought of me. In short, after the rush of happiness, I was overcome with doubts. In the end, history dissuaded me once and for all. After a week of alternating between enthusiasm and disillusionment, between friends who urged me to take advantage of the opportunity and fulfill my dreams and colleagues who ultimately said, “Where are you going?”, September 11, 2001, happened. And at that point, moving to the US no longer seemed like such a great idea…

When, months later, the enormous impact of that tragedy slowly began to fade, I changed my mind and took the GRE test required to enroll in a doctoral program in the US. But I hadn’t had enough time to prepare and my score wasn’t high enough. They told me to try again the following year, but the following year they had funding problems and some of their other students had to change universities. The dream was over… the train had passed and I hadn’t caught it. I had missed my shot. I had been misled by bad advice and by the attack on the Twin Towers. It was no small thing, but if I had been really determined, I wouldn’t have let it stop me from preparing well for the GRE, and the story would have been different.

Different in ways I can’t describe. It’s not possible. What is very possible, but not certain, is that I might not have met my wife and our son might not have been born. And then that’s not where my geological career ended. I stayed at the university on a temporary basis, with small, sporadic contracts. In the meantime, I met the woman who would become my wife. I had returned to the United States for a short marine geology job for an Italian-American friend’s company. I left a few days after meeting her. She happened to be accompanying her father to New York for a weekend where he had a business meeting. Our story began under the moonlight, along the Hudson River, in front of the Manhattan skyline. With walks in Central Park and on the Brooklyn Bridge. Another dream come true, it was like being in a movie, it was surreal. Then my Italian-American friend got married and invited us to the wedding. And we got married at the New York City Hall before him. We had already been living together for a couple of years. Then we crowned the story that began there in the most fitting way.

Then came the new turning point in my career. I was recommended to the geologist who ran the office of a small Canadian hydrocarbon exploration company. I had finally found myself in one of my dreams, that of working as a geologist for an oil company. I could now start earning serious money from geology, start a family, and live in a bigger house. After a while, our son was born and seven months later we took him to New York to meet our American relatives and, in a sense, come full circle. Looking back today, I am reminded of the words of a university colleague, one of those who had also had the opportunity in the US and had chosen not to take it. When I said goodbye to him because I was going to work for the oil company, he said, “Make sure you save your money because with these companies you never know”. Seven years had passed since I entered university. At that moment, the new job seemed like a real turning point in my life. I would indeed be earning very well doing the job I loved. If I had gone to the US, I would probably have been a temporary worker in America, moving from department to department on post-doc contracts. Instead, I was in my own city, with a salary I had never seen before. Everything seemed possible.

But after another seven years, the company went bankrupt. Everything I had built had collapsed. I had worked so hard to realize my dreams, and I had succeeded. And now I found myself unemployed, just over fifty years old, with a young son. After a period on unemployment benefits and the resulting accumulation of debt, I ended up working in a factory and my wife in a call center. In the meantime, I started playing the guitar again, partly to keep myself sane. After a few years, thanks to my connections, which I had built up by playing the guitar, I found a completely different job, except for the fact that I still solve problems. While I was unemployed, I searched the internet for what to do if you lose your job at fifty. The first piece of advice made me smile: learn to use a computer. For someone who was always called upon to solve computer problems, it was ridiculous. I used to take computers apart and reassemble them from scratch. I even installed Linux. Using a computer was the least of my problems, but I imagine that the professional profile of someone my age normally involved a certain amount of awkwardness in using IT tools. In fact, with my new job, I also learned to program in the language used by the company software we supply. Computer science was one of the options I considered when choosing a university. Who knows, maybe I was more suited to it than geology… another thing we’ll never know…

In the end, playing the guitar, my fascination with English, and tinkering with computers—things I did as a boy and for which some people even criticized me—saved my life. I am no longer a geologist. Do I miss geology? Actually, I don’t organize trips to see interesting outcrops anymore. But I often think about it when I see people doing their jobs and it’s as if they weren’t working. It happened to me too. For me, Monday and Friday had the same meaning. I have an interesting and stimulating job, but I wouldn’t do it for free. It’s not what I studied and invested so much in. It’s a fallback and a blessing at the same time. And I found it through my own abilities, because of what I am, not directly because of my degree. Had I flown too close to the sun and then crashed? But I regained altitude, and now I fly lower. I can’t afford to take too many risks. I have a family, a child to raise, bills and payments to make. I can’t take another ‘plunge’ trying to do everything I can to get back into geology. I’m no longer young, and I don’t have a safety net.

Surely when I didn’t take advantage of it, I missed a train, I missed my shot. I missed several, and maybe that’s normal, it happens to everyone, but I also took other shots without hesitation, perhaps only because they came along at the right moment, when I was in a position to take them.

And maybe that’s all it is about…