Like Jennifer, Michael demonstrated his talent early on. When he was eight years old, he and a friend named Sean started a business called M & S Enterprises and posted signs around the neighborhood offering to help people learn more about their computers. When he was 12, Michael tied up the phone line so much with his Internet use that for his birthday his parents gave him his own line. By the time he was in middle school, he was helping his teachers set up the school computers.
Both families are excited about, if not completely surprised by, the adventures that lie ahead for Michael and Jennifer. "Working is one thing," Mary-Jo says. "But to be able to go to work and feel good about what you're doing and be happy about your life and who you are and what you can become -- that's fantastic, right?"
At the same time, it's not easy for either family to have a child living so far away. "We really miss Jennifer," Mary-Jo says. "She's so much fun. She just commands attention when she comes into the room. She helps you enjoy life."
When Marcia Furdyk misses Michael, she thinks about the times last fall when the two of them went driving together. Michael had his permit but not his license, so he needed an adult to accompany him. "We'd go out late," Marcia remembers. "We'd buy gas, and because he needed driving experience, he'd go to a gas station half an hour away. He'd just drive and drive and drive. Sometimes we would go to a coffee shop and buy a coffee. I considered that my private time with him; we talked about a lot of things. But then he got his license, and he was gone."
Curtis Sittenfeld (curtis-sittenfeld@uiowa.edu), a former Fast Company staff writer, is a graduate student in the Iowa Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa. Contact Michael Furdyk (mfurdyk@buybuddy.com) and Jennifer Corriero (jenergy@home.com) by email.
When Microsoft invited 18-year-old Michael Furdyk and 20-year-old Jennifer Corriero to spend six months on its Redmond campus, the company took a step toward figuring out what the next generation of workers will be like and what products they'll want.
It was not the only such step that Microsoft has taken, however. This past January, Microsoft created what was known as the "Net Gen Lab" -- a ramshackle house in Seattle's Green Lake neighborhood where 10 college students spent two weeks being observed as they used technology. It was, as Microsoft general manager Liz King puts it, "like a focus group that went on for two weeks, 24 hours a day." King, 41, culled students from her alma mater, Oberlin College, because she knew that they had the month of January off to pursue independent academic projects.
The dining room of the house served as the technology hub, complete with six computers. So that the students would have some structure and sense of purpose, Microsoft assigned them the task of creating an online magazine for other college students. Then Microsoft stepped back to observe -- or at least that was its intent. In reality, the so-called observers found themselves answering questions about technology, giving rides to the students (none of whom had cars), and, in the case of an especially big-hearted observer, baking them cookies. The 15 observers, who came from all areas of the company, worked in pairs for eight-hour shifts -- some of which lasted until 2 AM. This dedication did not go unnoticed. As one student remarked to the Microsoft contingent, "I used to belong to a cult, and you're more intense than it was."
That intensity paid off with three findings. The first is that Net Genners will challenge any prescription that they're given. After receiving their assignment from Microsoft, the students mulled it over for a few days -- and then rejected it. "We had expected a certain level of independent thinking, but they still surprised us," King says.
The second finding is that Net Genners have high expectations of the technology's performance -- and little tolerance for it when it disappoints them. Says King: "This group is not going to give us a second chance. Their parents gave us second chances; they won't."
The final finding is that tomorrow's workers differ dramatically not just from previous generations but also from each other. "One student used his computer only when he was doing his work," King says. "When he wanted recreation, he played music, went out in the city, or read a book. Contrast that with another student who would hit the switch on the coffee pot in the morning and sit down to check his email while the coffee was brewing. He'd be up until two in the morning by himself, listening to music, sitting at the computer and just cruising around, looking at stuff. Technology was woven into his fabric -- as a social creature, a working creature, a son, and a friend.
"It was good for us to recognize that the world is not simply shifting from one place to another. It's a more subtle panorama."