I took my 20-year-old son on a business trip. Here's what I learned from him – and how it improved my work (and my rap skills)

Growing up, my son had his share of school “Career Day” and “Bring Your Kid to Work” moments. He's 20 now, so I assumed they were over.?

Safe bet, right?

Turns out I was wrong.

The truth is, it’s never too late to share the best parts of our work—and ourselves—with our children. Even if they're in that post-adolescent, know-it-all phase of life and pursuing their own path forward.

I had this unexpected revelation just a few weeks ago when my son, who's been working at a paid summer job in his field of study, called my wife out of the blue.

I'm accustomed to a standard "proof of life" cadence, but he had news: his contract was ending a little early, so he was coming home for a few extra weeks before returning to the University of Florida.

He framed a simple intention of spending some "quality time with the family." I heard it as "rekindling my relationship with the pantry, the living room couch, and a few streaming channels."

Of course, we were thrilled to have him back. But during the same stretch, I was due in Miami for a public sector IT conference, where I would put on my?Solodev?hat and rub elbows with members of FLGISA—the Florida Government Information Services Association.

Nothing holds a candle to family time, but I was looking forward to a sea of geeky folk (like me) swimming through subjects like serverless, AI, and other cool cloud stuff.

Oh... did mention it was in Miami? Hollywood Beach, to be exact? The horror!

I knew tech wasn’t exactly his cup of tea (he's an art kid), but on a whim, I asked my son if he’d like to tag along as a "hired gun." I presented it as a multi-purpose support position, one that involved basic people skills, a positive attitude, and a plethora of grunt work.

He heard “Miami” and was mostly in. The fact that it was a paid gig sealed the deal. I’m not sure what was more satisfying: having my kid shadow me on a business trip or keeping him upright and active for a few days.

Either way, it seemed like a win.

Despite the initial pop, it didn't take long for the roses to wilt. In transit, he started to hem and haw about kanoodling with strangers and slinging t-shirts. He worried about his lack of knowledge, even though I assured him that deeper questions could be handed off to qualified team members.

He also informed me that he needed some "flexibility" to complete assignments for his summer courses.?Thanks for the heads-up, kid...

I started wondering if I had miscalculated – and even considered letting him wallow by the hotel pool to avoid any drama.?But I encouraged him to show up, that our team was now depending on his help to make the event successful.

It was a meager pep talk. I didn't expect much.

What I experienced, however, was a thing of beauty.?

From the moment we arrived, he threw himself into the job, helping with everything from setup to logistics. He even solved a few, shall we say, "mechanical" problems in our booth.

During the networking sessions, he was funny and charismatic, greeting passersby with what felt like a seasoned hand. He also gelled with our team and made himself an indispensable part of the operation.

Here's the best part: he willingly donned an uncomfortable, not-fit-for-Florida-summer mascot suit (whom we affectionately call "Rocker Spacebear") for photo ops with conference attendees.

Is it cheesy? Absolutely. But everyone remembers the Spacebear, and we get endless compliments on our marketing.

Needless to say, he earned theme park-level hazard pay for this:?

Throughout the event, I noticed how keenly he was studying my tactics. He asked questions about our services and expressed genuine interest in learning more. Those queries allowed me to improve my own messaging, simplify things, and be a little more direct in my delivery.

In this way, the student became the teacher.?

And yeah… it was Miami. So we did Miami things—like eating raw oysters at the Diplomat Hotel's Prime Steakhouse and playing cornhole on a snazzy balcony. We drank in the views of breezy beaches and the cosmopolitan lights of South Beach.

We eventually ended up at an afterparty where local hip-hop artists shook the house (yes, that’s us in the photo with the legendary Uncle Luke).?I don't remember the '90s being that long ago, but I guess that's why I was challenged in the lyrical department. Meanwhile, my kid was familiar with a LOT of the songs. Once again, he carried me.

Throughout the event, in the golden moments between the chaos, we talked about his future and reminisced about the past. Who knew a business trip could be such a gift??

There were so many highs, but the top of the mountain was the shifting of perspectives. Being at this event allowed my son to see me in the zone, practicing my craft with confidence and (hopefully) mastery. In turn, I invited him into conversations, sharing how our humanity can bond us—even in business. In each of these opportunities, he was articulate and measured. And he never failed to impress me.

We both saw things from alternate angles. Everything became a teachable moment and an opportunity to model the possibilities. Again, what a gift.

If I could go back a few years, I'd concentrate more on cultivating a positive work ethic. He's already imbued with an abundance of ambition, but he frequently saw me "toughing it out" in my roles—and I wasn't always at my best. I see that now, and we've been able to chat about the benefits of being proactive rather than reactive.

Of course, that's the rub. We can't go back. And even if I could, it might not change the vector. We both needed to be prepared for this moment, ready to receive all that was offered. Time's funny that way, I suppose. Are we ever really in control?

With that, I'll "rap" about a few things I gleaned from this experience:

For those of you in the early stages of your parenting journey, the best thing you can do is show up. Our careers often distract us from the (very) short runway we have with our kids. Committing to be present—and reinforcing that commitment—is the best illustration of integrity and reliability.

Wherever possible, let them see you working. Show them how you navigate the minefields. Use it as an opportunity to practice grace and gratitude so they can build the right muscle for facing the mayhem. Resolving conflict is one of the most important skills we can acquire, and no class can fully prepare you for it. We need people with experience to guide the way and to model the right combination of firmness and compassion.

If you’re like me—wondering if the “Take Your Kid to Work” moments are over—nothing could be further from the truth.?They still need you.?As young adults, they're better prepared to absorb the lessons and interpret the nuance. Inviting them closer to your work also instills a greater sense of respect and empathy, critical tools for thriving in any career (and in life).

So take them to work. Bring them on a business trip. Share willingly and often, and never stop. I promise you this: you'll learn more about yourself than you ever expected.

To conclude, my son isn't pivoting to pursue a career in software (sad face). But that was never my intention. These days, it's unlikely that our kids will end up in the same field as us. They have their own dreams and ambitions, and we have the privilege of supporting them on whatever course they choose. The road will be riddled with mistakes, but hopefully, they're on a path toward happiness.

That said, they?do?follow in our footsteps more than we realize, so make every step count.

Oh, and keep your pantry stocked. That part never gets old.

Apparently, neither does Uncle Luke.