High school kids worry about missing the big bucks in the high-tech world. But parents want them to get degrees first.
By SARAH SCHWEITZER
© St. Petersburg Times, published June 18, 2000
TAMPA -- The small room is remarkably spick-and-span, not so much as a pair of blue jeans out of place. Its walls are white and bare save the black-and-white poster of Albert Einstein above a bed tucked tight enough to pass military muster. Furniture is spare, just the bed and a desk overwhelmed by a hulking color monitor.
It is here that 17-year-old Nathan Lazur toils.
His eyes glued to the glowing screen of his IBM Aptiva, bought when he was 15 with his own money, Nathan dreams big. The 17-year-old senses he is on the cusp of great success, perhaps outlandish success.
For now, he is content with security.
Each week, $500 rolls into his bank account, payment for maintaining the Web page of Madeira Games, a British company that imports and exports video games.
And come January, he will sign on for more security. He will enroll at the University of Central Florida, but not without reservation.
Will he be left behind as other computer wizards conquer the market with dot-com start-ups? Will things learned in college translate in the marketplace?
Just five years ago, college would have been a no-brainer for a smart, talented student like Nathan. The degree was the key to all good things, the piece of paper that opened doors to jobs, respect, success.
But the equation has changed. The thought that Bill Gates left college with no degree dangles in young minds across the country.
And there are educators who agree that bucking college, at least temporarily, is the smartest move many of them could make.
"I don't encourage my kids to go to college. If they come out of my class and they can get a job for $50,000 or more, the job will often pay tuition," said Sabra Otterness, a computer teacher at Bloomingdale High School. "It's a different world."
Few students, it seems, are taking Otterness' advice to heart -- including her own. No one from her classes last school year plans to skip or delay college.
College enrollment is expected to increase from 13.4 million in 1995 to 16 million in 2015, according to a recent study by Educational Testing Service, the nonprofit Princeton, N.J., test-making company that produces the SAT college-entrance exam.
But it is a thought at least occurring to those wrapped up in the industry at the heart of the new economy.
Jim Godin, 17, considered his teacher's exhortation seriously. College seemed, for a time, like an unnecessary interruption in the path of a burgeoning career.
A self-taught computer whiz with literacy in more than a dozen computer languages, Godin was making money creating Web pages during his senior year at Bloomingdale High School. He was tempted to keep at it and see where it led.
But the wishes of his parents, a construction worker and a customer service manager, weighed heavily in the balance.
"My parents are really intent on me going to college, so I'll do it for them," said Godin, who will attend the University of Central Florida.
Even for those aspiring dot-com entrepreneurs with college plans, their view of college is different from that of their peers. Many increasingly see college not as a place to gain skills needed to survive in the workplace, but merely as a place where a special seal of approval is conferred.
"Generally, when you leave high school and go to college, it's to gain skills. These kids already have the skills; they already have their own businesses," said Linda Coakley, who markets technical education for the school district. "They are doing things backward."
From age 11, when Nathan Lazur bought his first computer, an Apple II, he has been enthralled by the machines. He began by playing games, but soon wanted to create something. He bought a couple of books and learned programming basics.
When the Internet came along, Web pages offered dazzling tutorials that propelled his understanding.
Surfing the Web, he learned of Madeira Games. After a few online chats with the managing director of the company, John Stainsby, Nathan's talent was tapped in the fall of 1999 to oversee the company's Web page.
"He knows things that people twice his age don't know," Stainsby said from the company's headquarters in Norfolk, England, about two hours north of London.
Keeping up with the time zone difference was grueling for Nathan. So much so that graduation from Wharton High School this spring was more than a rite of passage. It meant a respite from bone-weary fatigue.
"I had to sacrifice," said Nathan with typical cerebral seriousness. "Sometimes I would have a deadline and so I would just have to say no to school."
Stainsby encouraged Nathan to move to England, saying he would help him land a job.
Nathan had no passport.
Just as well, his mother says.
"College has always been in the plans, no matter how much money he could make," said Sue Gross, a nurse. "With all these IPOs going under, he knows he needs to have basic skills."
Nathan largely agrees, but says college is overrated.
"It's a backup plan for me," he said. "It's something I'll only need to fall back on."
This summer he will travel to North Carolina to work in his father's restaurant and stay until November. He will work on a brand new computer notebook, keeping up Madeira Games' Web site and creating games, his life goal.
"The game market is bigger than the movie market," he said. "Within four years I will be making lots of money."