Am I the Sum of My Parts?

In which I grapple with the age-old question: Who am I?

Are we the sum of our parts, or are we the sum of the people around us? Or, perhaps, do the people we choose to align with make us greater than the sum of our parts?

When I was laid off in January 2025, I felt lost and aimless for a time. Sure, I put on a good face and wrote about all the things I learned from my previous position (including how personal growth is a team effort, which is probably the most profound realization I’ve had in a long time).

But despite having my brave face on, so as not to look weak to any potential employers, I was feeling frustrated. I suddenly didn’t feel like I knew who I was or what I wanted to do with my life anymore. That’s not a great look when you’re job hunting.

But there, I said it. It’s out there.

(I mean, realistically I could just delete this whole thing, or never publish this post, but what good would that be? What use would I be to others if I refused to be vulnerable and transparent, even when it’s hard?)

Then slowly, over the next few months, I met people and had experiences that have shaped my future growth. Then, just moments before I sat down to write this, it dawned on me: it’s always the people I surround myself with who help give me direction when I feel lost.

It’s almost as if, you know, personal growth is a team effort.

A Brief History of Me – and Them

I’ve always enjoyed things like reading, writing, technology, tabletop games, and the idea of being my own boss. But because I used to be shy, unambitious, and painfully introverted, I often failed to do anything other than dabbling with my interests. It took a lot of other people to help put me on the path I’m walking today.

When I was a teenager, I learned HTML and CSS. I thought I wanted to be a professional web designer, and I even created my own company page, which is available through the magic of the Wayback Machine if you care to take a look (spoiler alert: it’s pretty bad): Etherich.com via the Internet Archive. I never had any paying clients, but I did host the website for a heavy metal band called Dawn of Dreams who gave me a signed copy of a CD as thanks. SO that was pretty cool, I guess. I still have that CD.

I never became a web designer by profession, but I still lean on my HTML and CSS knowledge to work with web accessibility today, so it’s not all lost.

Around the same time, I met the girl I’d one day marry (and later divorce). She was instrumental in getting me more hooked on tabletop games like Dungeons and Dragons than ever before. Previously, I had only some sporadic experience playing these types of games with friends, but she and I joined a large gaming group in our local area and I got to spend a lot of time playing and having fun. As my eyesight worsened and video games became unplayable, I leaned in hard on tabletop games (which I could more easily make accessible for myself). So even though that relationship didn’t work out, it set me on a path of gaming and game design that I still love today.

Later, I met my forever wife. She’s instrumental in more parts of my story than I can count, but perhaps the biggest influence she had on me was getting me to finally stop designing pieces of games and actually start publishing them.

Around 2011, I had been spending hours upon hours designing a game that nobody else was playing. I simply lacked the drive to do anything more than tinker with it. I openly dreamed of publishing it someday, but never took steps toward that goal. Until one day, my wife asked me when I was going to finally get serious and produce the thing already. She gave me the push I needed, followed by all the support in the world, to take those scary first steps toward putting it out there. Eventually I crowdfunded the money I needed to finish it, and published Psi-punk in 2013.

Little did we know at the time that this huge little step would put me on the path toward publishing dozens of products, getting confident talking with people in front of a camera, and set me up for future career moves.

Later, when I was working at Wells Fargo, I had a supervisor who helped me on my path toward leadership. Mark, who I’ve written about before, saw something in me that others had overlooked. Or maybe it just knew to look for the best in everyone, which other people simply weren’t attuned to noticing. Either way, he set me up with opportunities to practice the skills I was learning in my undergraduate program. I gained my facilitator certification, ran workshops for dozens of my peers, practiced coaching and feedback, and more. He also encouraged me to join Toastmasters, a non-profit organization dedicated to helping members become confident public speakers. Which I did. (Join, that is. But also become a confident public speaker.)

I spent the next several years combining several of my skills in writing, game design, accessibility, and leadership, to publish more and more tabletop games. But there’s not a lot of money in that industry, and I had to continue to work a day job while I was at it.

Then I saw a job posting for a DEI Content Writer. It sounded like the perfect fit for me. Diversity, inclusion, writing, design—everything I was about as a person, without being tied to a headset all day. Even though 300+ people had already applied (according to LinkedIN), my wife told me to go for it anyway. What’s the worst that could happen? I spend some time on an application?

Well, I got the job. Because someone saw something in my mix of skills and experience that stood out to them.

That somebody was Zoe Allerding, the world’s greatest leader you’ve probably never met. (Yet. Stay tuned.) Under her leadership and guidance, I became a much better writer. Then, as our company transformed around us, I also grew into being a learning designer.

We were working for a learning company, after all, and eventually DEI became just one aspect of what we did. I also wrote about leadership development, sustainability, and a zillion other topics. I designed learning programs for dozens of companies about more topics than I can remember.

I got that itch. For you learning designers in my audience, you know what I mean. That itch to just keep improving your craft with every new build. Eventually, I became head over heels in love with learning design.

Zoe also encouraged me to join the company’s accessibility team, which was a group of volunteers – mostly software engineers – who wanted to help improve our platform’s lackluster digital accessibility. To make that long story short, I eventually ended up leading that team and gained a lot of valuable accessibility testing experience while I was at it.

But then we were laid off. That brings me back to January 2025, where I was floundering.

I knew I loved learning design, leadership, and accessibility. But I didn’t have a resume that strongly showcased any of those things.

- I had call center jobs where I facilitated workshops, provided peer coaching, and mentored new hires. But I didn’t have a supervisory title.

- I had a learning design job where I created dozens of programs on myriad topics, but I didn’t have experience with Articulate software or with any common LMS.

- I led a cross-functional team of software engineers, learning designers, and Customer Success agents through significant accessibility initiatives. But I didn’t have a title, and I didn’t use any industry-standard automated testing tools.

In short: I have a lot of great experiences that don’t sum up to amount to anything that any employer is looking for.

So I started networking more on LinkedIn. I connected with other learning designers, because I have a love of learning design and everyone in the industry is so amazing. That’s when I connected with Nicole and Sarah, who each deserve their own credit.

Dr. Nicole L’Etoile was about to start a new cohort for her incredible course, “Making Digital Content Accessible for All.” Even though I really had only just met her briefly before the class began, she let me squeeze in at the last minute.

Through her class, I gained valuable experience with Web Content Accessibility Guidelines (WCAG), accessibility testing tools, running proper audits, and testing with common course software like Canvas LMS and Articulate. Then Gained some additional experience as a tester for another one of the students’ projects.

I learned a lot from the class, including something I had only suspected before: I actually have picked up quite a lot of knowledge about WCAG and accessibility over the last 15 years that I’ve been championing it. I just needed someone else to give me that push to really dig into it on a professional level.

Sarah Mercier has also been influential in my recent trajectory. When I heard about her company, Build Capable, through an L&D podcast, I realized there was more to the learning design industry than LMSs and Articulate Storyline. Her patent-pending software, XCL, was designed from the ground up to be accessible. It was also designed to live outside any LMS or content authoring tool, meaning she is setting the standard for learning programs that aren’t built upon inaccessible products. I can’t tell you how much of a breath of fresh air that is.

Sarah is a champion of inclusive learning, and she’s laying the groundwork for a huge shift in the e-learning industry. A shift that I’m totally on board with. There’s more on that coming soon.

Which brings us to today

Today, I’m working on my master’s degree in management and leadership. Meanwhile, I’m freelancing as an accessibility auditor for the likes of L’Etoile Education and Tilak Learning Group. I’m also writing and, in my limited spare time, still working on Accessible Games. Oh, and I have several public speaking engagements coming up. Oh, and I’m also working on some collaborations with Sarah. Oh, and I’m trying to be a father and husband while I’m at it.

It’s a lot of moving parts. They’re the parts that are, at least at present, the sum of who I am.

They’re parts that, finally, are starting to feel like the whole me. Because I’m starting to get the big picture.

If you noticed, there were some themes that kept coming up as I wrote about this: Accessibility, Learning, and Leadership. That’s what the “ALL” in Growth for ALL stands for.

As it turns out, my path forward is the path I’ve been on this whole time. I just didn’t know it. It took the support of others, along with a bit of introspection, to help me come to that realization.

What about you?

I hope you have people in your life like Mark, Zoe, Nicole, Sarah, and the dozens of other people I haven’t had a chance to name. I also hope you take advantage of the gifts of wisdom, insight, and opportunity that people like them might give you.

I’d encourage you, right this very moment, to pause and reflect for a minute. Pick one person that has contributed to your path in a meaningful way. Thank them, publicly or silently. Just feel that gratitude that comes from the exercise.

It’s humbling, isn’t it? To know that we’re made up of people and experiences outside ourselves. To know that there are others who have had a hand in our successes.

To know that personal growth is a team effort.

To know that the only way we can become greater than the sum of our parts is to connect with others.

Then, remember this one thing: it’s up to you to reciprocate. Because you can be that person for someone else, too.