Steve Jobs is Silicon Valley

I grew up here. Went to school at Monta Loma Elementary in Mountain View while living at 532 Thompson Avenue, which was next to the empty lot where I damn near blew my hand off with a firecracker when I was idiot years old.

My friend Chris’s dad was one of those dads everyone wanted to hang out with. He lived alone. He raced motorcycles. He introduced us to Thomas Dolby and how music should sound. And he loved Apple.

When I was in the fifth grade, I opted out of normal school and went to a magnet school (which were all the rage before charter schools), and while there, tested highly in my potential as a business leader, which gave me access to a new computer lab full of Apple IIe’s. I played lots of Oregon Trail and was dominate at Lemonade Stand. I loved those Apples.

In the seventh grade, I played on a AYSO soccer team called the Mean Green Machine that my dad and Chris’s dad coached. We shared the field with the Pumas (but we pronounced them the Peeee-uuuuu-mas) and I played with my friend Tommy, who years later, because of Facebook, came back into my life.

I still remember the day that it looked like Apple was going to go out of business because Chris’ dad was so sad.

Steve Jobs wasn’t an icon. Steve Jobs wasnt a god. Steve Jobs was a first time founder who had hit the bottom of the rollercoaster.

Steve Jobs was Silicon Valley.

People can extol his undeniable focus, and his unique ability to embrace technological beauty, but for me, those were just things that Steve Jobs did.

It wasn’t what he was.

He was me. He was all my friends. He embodied everything that people who are not from here think here is. He was Silicon Valley.

When I was in high school, I was invited to a three day conference that was for students that were considered to be the most likely to become business leaders (seriously, you think I would have gotten the hint earlier in life).

The conference took place in Monterey, and we had a small team that developed a product, the marketing strategy, the pitch, the whole shebang.

While there, I kicked a hole in a wall as I was doing a push off to turn the corner faster. Thinking quickly, I covered the hole with a piece of paper, gum and a chair. Later, they brought us together.

“Who put the hole in the wall?” They asked

I raised my hand. “I did,” I said.

As I was whisked off to a room that was an office with a window that overlooked the ocean, I was sure my parents would be waiting, disappointed as ever.

But they weren’t. Instead the head of the program thanked me for my honesty and sent me on my way.

That is Steve Jobs. That is Silicon Valley. We respect honesty and accept mistakes. We demand responsibility and focus on success.

My team created the Peanut Gallery, which was a set of peanut butter and jelly mixes that were in character shaped bottled. We had a jingle. We even had one more thing. And most importantly, we had a win.

Steve Jobs wasn’t an inspiration. Steve Jobs wasn’t the second coming.

Steve Jobs was Silicon Valley.

My mom worked at startups for years. In a constant state of getting hired and then getting laid off, failure was something that was part of the fabric of the community in which we lived. In fact, most people who grew up here have faced and survived failure. It is what we do.

Steve Jobs was Silicon Valley.

Bill Gates was always an outsider here. He was the enemy. A symbol of The Man. He did things that we of the Valley would never do. Or, at least, would never admit to doing.

In Silicon Valley, we look at straight lines and envision curves. We love broken because we can birth fixes. We believe that the only impossible thing is impossibility. But even impossibility is a short term reality.

That was Steve Jobs.

Steve Jobs is Silicon Valley and Silicon Valley can never die.

Originally published at archive.learntoduck.net on October 6, 2011.