As a student in western New York’s rural Wyoming County, Briar Townes honed an artistic streak that he hopes to make a living from one day. In high school, he clicked with a college-level drawing and painting class.

But despite the college credits he earned, college isn’t part of his plan.

Since graduating from high school in June, he has been overseeing an art camp at the county’s Arts Council. If that doesn’t turn into a permanent job, there is work at Creative Food Ingredients, known as the “cookie factory” for the way it makes the town smell like baking cookies, or at local factories like American Classic Outfitters, which designs and sews athletic uniforms.

“My stress is picking an option, not finding an option,” he said.

Even though rural students graduate from high school at higher rates than their peers in cities and suburbs, fewer of them go on to college.

Many rural school districts, including the one in Perry that Townes attends, have begun offering college-level courses and working to remove academic and financial obstacles to higher education, with some success. But college doesn’t hold the same appeal for students in rural areas where they often would need to travel farther for school, parents have less college experience themselves, and some of the loudest political voices are skeptical of the need for higher education.

College enrollment for rural students has remained largely flat in recent years, despite the district-level efforts and stepped-up recruitment by many universities. About 55% of rural U.S. high school students who graduated in 2023 enrolled in college, according to National Clearinghouse Research Center data.That’s compared to 64% of suburban graduates and 59% of urban graduates.

College can make a huge difference in earning potential. An American man with a bachelor’s degree earns an estimated $900,000 more over his lifetime than a peer with a high school diploma, research by the Social Security Administration has found. For women, the difference is about $630,000.

A school takes cues from families’ hopes and goals

A lack of a college degree is no obstacle to opportunity in places such as Wyoming County, where people like to say there are more cows than people. The dairy farms, potato fields and maple sugar houses are a source of identity and jobs for the county just east of Buffalo.

“College has never really been, I don’t know, a necessity or problem in my family,” said Townes, the middle of three children whose father has a tattoo shop in Perry.

At Perry High School, Superintendent Daryl McLaughlin said the district takes cues from students like Townes, their families and the community, supplementing college offerings with programs geared toward career and technical fields such as the building trades. He said he is as happy to provide reference checks for employers and the military as he is to write recommendations for college applications.

“We’re letting our students know these institutions, whether it is a college or whether employers, they’re competing for you,” he said. “Our job is now setting them up for success so that they can take the greatest advantage of that competition, ultimately, to improve their quality of life.”

Still, college enrollment in the district has exceeded the national average in recent years, going from 60% of the class of 2022’s 55 graduates to 67% of 2024’s and 56% of 2025’s graduates. The district points to a decision to direct federal pandemic relief money toward covering tuition for students in its Accelerated College Enrollment program — a partnership with Genesee Community College. When the federal money ran out, the district paid to keep it going.

“This is a program that’s been in our community for quite some time, and it’s a program our community supports,” McLaughlin said.

About 15% of rural U.S. high school students were enrolled in college classes in January 2025 through such dual enrollment arrangements, a slightly lower rate than urban and suburban students, an Education Department survey found.

Rural access to dual enrollment is a growing area of focus as advocates seek to close gaps in access to higher education. The College in High School Alliance this year announced funding for seven states to develop policy to expand programs for rural students.

Higher education’s image problem is acute in rural America

Around the country, many students feel jaded by the high costs of college tuition. And Americans are increasingly skeptical about the value of college, polls have shown, with Republicans, the dominant party in rural America, losing confidence in higher education at higher rates than Democrats.

“Whenever you have this narrative that ‘college is bad, college is bad, these professors are going to indoctrinate you,’ it’s hard,” said Andrew Koricich, executive director of the Alliance for Research on Regional Colleges at Appalachian State University in North Carolina. “You have to figure out, how do you crack through that information ecosphere and say, actually, people with a bachelor’s degree, on average, earn 65% more than people with a high school diploma only?”

In much of rural America, about 21% of people over the age of 25 have a bachelor’s degree, compared to about 36% of adults in other areas, according to a government analysis of U.S. Census findings.

Some rural educators don’t hold back on promoting college

In rural Putnam County, Florida, about 14% of adults have a bachelor’s degree. That doesn’t stop principal Joe Theobold from setting and meeting an annual goal of 100% college admission for students at Q.I. Roberts Jr.-Sr. High School.

Paper mills and power plants provide opportunities for a middle class life in the county, where the cost of living is low. But Theobold tells students the goal of higher education “is to go off and learn more about not only the world, but also about yourself.”

“You don’t want to be 17 years old, determining what you’re going to do for the rest of your life,” he said.

Families choose the magnet school because of its focus on higher education, even though most of the district’s parents never went to a college. Many students visit college campuses through Camp Osprey, a University of North Florida program that helps students experience college dorms and dining halls.

In upstate New York, high school junior Devon Wells grew up on his family farm in Perry but doesn’t see his future there. He’s considering a career in welding, or as an electrical line worker in South Carolina, where he heard the pay might be double what he would make at home. None of his plans require college, he said.

“I grew up on a farm, so that’s all hands-on work. That’s really all I know and would want to do,” Devon said.

Neither his nor Townes’ parents have pushed one way or the other, they said.

“I remember them talking to me like, `Hey, would you want to go to college?’ I remember telling them, ‘not really,’” Townes said. He would have listened if a college recruiter reached out, he said, but wouldn’t be willing to move very far.

This story was originally featured on Fortune.com

A seismic generational shift is underway, and its epicenter is Generation Z. Born from 1997 onward, Gen Z is coming of age in a world where traditional milestones like landing a lifelong job, buying a house in your 20s, or chasing wealth for its own sake have become difficult, or borderline impossible, in the modern economy. Gen Z has responded pragmatically, insisting, well, maybe they don’t really want those things anyway.

A massive new study from EY’s Generational Dynamics core team, spanning more than 10,000 young adults across 10 countries and five continents, finds Gen Z is often misunderstood—and their measured approach should define them as the “pragmatic generation.” The authors, Marcie Merriman and Zak Dychtwald, wrote Gen Z approaches “life’s traditional milestones” with a sort of “reasoned skepticism.”

According to Joe Depa, EY Global chief innovation officer, the research reveals how 18- to 34-year-olds are taking a surprisingly pragmatic approach to adulthood, finances, and their future. “Far from being financially reckless,” Depa tells Fortune Intelligence, “this generation is focused on long-term stability — and redefining success along the way.”

Money, for them, is necessary but not the be-all and end-all: 87% say financial independence is important, yet only 42% rate wealth as a primary marker of success, trailing far behind metrics like mental and physical health and family relationships. Put simply, for Gen Z, financial stability is a tool—not a goal. They use money to open doors to flexibility, purpose, and well-being.

Depa says the research “tells a different story” about Gen Z. “The idea that young adults are postponing adulhtood is outdated.” They’re approaching life milestones not with rebellion but with “reasoned skepticism and a global perspective.” As employees and customers, Gen Z will challenge organizations that have been wired around a different way of doing things. For business leaders, understanding this shift will be vital to attracting and retaining talent.

The job hoppers

Where baby boomers and Gen Xers often stuck with one employer for decades, Gen Z is dismantling that concept.

EY’s research found 59% of young adults globally expect to work for two to five organizations throughout their lives, and nearly 20% say they will work for six or more. This flexible approach to employment—embracing job changes and flexible gig work—reflects not only a desire for varied experiences, but a strategic response to rapid change, uncertainty, and a lifetime of economic instability.

“Younger generations are not merely reacting to financial constraints,” the EY Generational Dynamics team writes, but making rational and thoughtful decisions about what aligns with both their own lived experiences and the pitfalls suffered by previous generations. EY says it’s a perspective that contrasts sharply with the “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” mentality often espoused by older generations, with Gen Z finding that to be dismissive of their specific context.

Redefining success: inside out, not outside in

Success, in Gen Z’s eyes, is an inside-out project: emotional well-being, strong relationships, and impact outrank titles and salaries. It’s no longer about ticking the boxes of homeownership, lifelong employment, or even traditional family milestones. Landmarks such as marriage and children are being postponed—not out of rejection, but for pragmatic reasons: economic insecurity, housing unaffordability, and a desire to be emotionally and financially prepared.

The rise of job-hopping has replaced the well-worn “script” of adulthood: Only 59% see working for a single organization as a viable path, whereas nearly 20% of respondents said they plan to work for six or more employers in the course of their careers. Linear career ladders and employer loyalty are giving way to “project-based” growth, taking new jobs, and side hustles, all in search of variety, autonomy, and purpose. “Job hopping is not viewed as a negative, but an essential step to open doors and advance opportunities,” the EY team writes.

The average Gen Z respondent reports feeling like an adult earlier than previous generations, and as a result, more than half (51%) said they prioritize physical and mental health as their chief markers of success, with family ties also outranking wealth in many countries. The push for authenticity is also striking; 84% cite “being true to oneself” as extremely important.

Employers, beware (and evolve)

For Gen Z, a job is not a life sentence, nor is money alone enough to keep them engaged. Employers used to loyalty and linear career ladders may be blindsided by Gen Z’s willingness to prioritize purpose, wellness, and flexibility—even if it comes at the expense of job security or long-term benefits. Conventional incentives are losing their grip.

For employers, this new pragmatism is both a wake-up call and an opportunity. Flexibility is mandatory, with hybrid and remote work, fluid hours, and support for “micro-retirements” between jobs becoming non-negotiable.

Gen Z expects employers to have clear values around well-being, sustainability, and social justice—and to act on them. Over 70% want their employer to be transparent about values and pay, and are unafraid to challenge leadership if authenticity is found wanting. This generation will quickly leave if growth stalls: 57% would quit for better professional development. They crave mentorship, personalized learning, and a sense of upward mobility.

Gen Z is less loyal to brands or employers unless that loyalty is returned; nearly half say they have “zero loyalty” to brands, and only about 60% feel any loyalty to their employer. Empathetic leadership and honest, two-way communication are expected, not a bonus.

Gen Z wants to be included in company decisions and expects a seat at the table. This finding aligns with separate research from Glassdoor, whose Worklife Trends report in June 2025 found emotional intelligence is now a standard expectation held by workers, many of them Gen Z. “The bar on what constitutes a good manager has been raised,” Glassdoor chief economist Daniel Zhao previously told Fortune Intelligence.

Employers slow to adapt to these realities won’t just struggle to recruit Gen Z—they’ll risk losing relevance altogether. The pragmatic playbook demands companies redesign everything from hiring and communication to values and pay structures.

The flip side? Gen Z’s pragmatism can also be an asset: They are technologically adept, mission-driven, and resourceful. But their skepticism can also translate into disengagement or even open dissatisfaction if workplaces fail to address their real priorities. Businesses would be pragmatic in their own right to tune into what Gen Z values most—authentic leadership, transparent communication, and support for well-being—if they want to retain this generation.

For this story, Fortune used generative AI to help with an initial draft. An editor verified the accuracy of the information before publishing. 

This story was originally featured on Fortune.com

• I was accepted into a Ph.D. in economics program, which was a dream come true.
• But I was also offered a job at a startup that excited me, so I took the offer.
• The startup folded, and I'm unsure if I regretted the decision.

When I received an email saying I had been accepted into the university of my choice for a Ph.D. program, I cried.

Furthering my education had always been an important goal for me, but it was one I didn't achieve easily. I battled Graves' disease through my early college years, which meant I was in and out of the classroom. I constantly played catch-up, and never thought I'd graduate. Understandably, the thought of enrolling in a Ph.D. economics program was a dream come true.

I'm a forward thinker, so I started imagining my interactions with my professors and what kind of thesis I'd work on. Although the annual tuition fees would put a great dent in my pocket, I was determined to work for it. I would have to strike a balance between school, family, and side hustles.

But then I got an offer I couldn't refuse.

My friend was working on an intriguing startup idea

While I was still planning for my program that was meant to begin in early fall, I met a friend who talked to me about a startup company he started and was taking off faster than he could keep up. It was exhilarating, and he thought I'd benefit from the experience.

The company wanted to disrupt financial access in underserved economies, and it was doing everything from product development and data modeling to pitching investors.

This friend had always been a dreamer and succeeded in most things he put his mind to. As he assured me, the startup wouldn't be an exception, especially because he had channeled all his savings toward it.

However, he wanted to bring me on board because I had an analytical background in economics. To be honest, the pay he suggested wasn't great, but the opportunity was stellar with potential for growth in skills and finances. My role would involve leveraging my skills in data analysis and understanding market dynamics.

He suggested I take some time to think about it.

I decided to take the job offer

I went back home and spent the majority of my time online looking through the company pages and comparing them to others that were thriving in the same field. It looked promising, and I wanted to be part of something great.

However, the team required someone who would work in the office full time, and logically, I wouldn't be able to be present for classes and work at the same time.

After a lot of back and forth, I thought working for the company was a one-time opportunity, and I was leaning toward it.

I looked up deferral programs and decided to consult with my school to seek their opinion on deferring my course for a year or two and then rejoining. The department didn't have deferrals, and the dean advised against it.

But the faculty told me that I could reapply a year later. I thought, if I was accepted once, I could be accepted again, so I started working for the startup.

The job didn't pan out as I expected

Everything was great in the first half of my work year. We embraced a team spirit, brought a few clients on board, and were on a steady path to growth. However, somewhere in the middle, we lost the plot.

We struggled to fit some of the company's products into a market that wasn't ready, and, most importantly, we faced a severe lack of funding.

After a long time of trying everything we could, the startup folded.

Looking back on my decision

I had mixed feelings about turning down school. In some ways, I feel like a failure. I was depressed and sunk deep into hopelessness. I haven't reapplied to my Ph.D. program yet, and I'm not sure I will anytime soon.

In hindsight, walking away from an opportunity to further my studies so I could join a startup was a risk, but it was also a rewarding experience in itself. I gained immense experience and made connections I wouldn't have made in academia.

I learned what it means to build something from the ground up, even if it doesn't work out.

• My 2-year-old grandson, King, died in an accident as I was achieving major career milestones.
• The loss forced me to confront how I had been using external achievements.
• Through my grief, I learned what true success in life really means.

The call came while I was in the middle of producing a groundbreaking documentary sanctioned by the Napoleon Hill Foundation. I had also just been featured in Forbes. Everything in my career was accelerating exactly as I had planned.

Then came the news that shattered everything.

King, my 2-year-old grandson, had drowned in a tragic accident. The little boy who would stop whatever he was doing to run into my arms, whose face lit up every time he saw me, was gone.

I felt like an anvil had fallen on my chest. Every step I took felt heavy, and the more it sank in, the more I wanted to leap out of my body from the pain. My chest was heavy and I couldn't breathe. It was instant trauma and a shock to my nervous system that left me gasping for air.

But that grief taught me something valuable.

My grandson meant the world to me

My first thought was denial. He's so young. I was just with him. How could this have happened?

Just one month earlier, I had sent King and my daughter back to California. When their flight was delayed, King held onto my neck like he didn't want to let go before boarding. I never expected that would be the last time I would hold him.

King wasn't just any child to me. Our relationship was magical. When I would play meditation music by the group Beautiful Chorus, he would hear just the first tone and stop whatever he was doing to come sit on my lap and sing with me. He was even on key. When he stayed at my house, we would sing together, play the African drum, and he would dance while I cooked. We would laugh until our bellies hurt.

The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, producing a documentary about mothers who had overcome adversity to find success, and I was suddenly facing one of my greatest adversities.

I forced myself to sit with the pain of loss

I didn't use work as anesthesia. Instead, I allowed myself to feel everything without grabbing any vices as coping mechanisms. It was painful. My nervous system wouldn't allow me to rest, and when I did sleep, I woke up thinking about King.

The grief forced me to confront a fundamental truth: I had been building my identity on things completely outside my control. I realized that only the ego would allow me to believe that tomorrow is promised to me or anyone I love.

I couldn't run from the pain. I had to use the tools I had been building through plant medicine, meditation, breathwork, and stillness to sit with it and find peace with knowing there was nothing I could have done to prevent this.

My grief helped me better understand success

Before King's death, my definition of success was entirely external. Success looked like closing deals, taking meetings, and speaking at events. It was anything that fed my ego. I was chasing vanity metrics, using achievements to mask deeper insecurities I hadn't yet faced.

But when I lost King, none of that mattered — the Forbes feature, the Napoleon Hill Foundation project, and the speaking engagements. All of it felt meaningless in the face of this devastating loss.

I started understanding that true success wasn't about external validation. It was about healing trauma, facing my shadows, and addressing my addictions.

I know for a fact that if I hadn't been doing deep inner work before this happened, I would have been completely broken. The preventive inner work I had done gave me the tools I needed to process this unimaginable loss.

I now realize that inner work before something happens is the only way to have the tools needed to process the curveballs life throws at you with full impact.

King's death revealed the most resilient part of me. The part that won't quit, even in the face of unbearable loss. He taught me that true success isn't measured in Forbes features or foundation partnerships. It's measured in our capacity to love deeply, heal authentically, and find meaning even in our darkest moments.

Every time I hear that first tone from Beautiful Chorus, I remember my grandson's voice singing with mine, perfectly on key, and I'm reminded that the most important successes in life can't be quantified on any business metric.

• After taking a career break, I had to jump back into the job market.
• I used ChatGPT to find open roles, write my résumé and cover letter, and prepare for interviews.
• I landed my dream job in AI, making it a full-circle moment.

After a well-deserved career break, I decided it was time to look for a new job. The only problem was that I had last done this 10 years ago, and job hunting was a completely different game then.

In 2025, everything has changed, from how roles are advertised to how candidates are evaluated. LinkedIn isn't just an optional platform anymore. It's seemingly essential. Companies are using automated systems to screen résumés, and social media presence matters more than ever. The landscape has drastically changed, becoming more digital and competitive than ever before.

Facing this entirely new scenario was daunting. The old rules didn't apply, and the anxiety of navigating this new environment quickly set in. I realized I needed help, something or someone, to guide me through these uncharted waters.

I decided to adapt using the very technology shaping the new job market: AI.

Embracing AI to redefine my career path

After years of working as a lawyer, embracing AI felt like venturing into foreign territory, but it also felt exciting. I'd read countless stories about people using AI for everything from meal planning to writing novels, but I wondered how effective it could be for finding a job.

My first step was to have an in-depth conversation with ChatGPT to help identify exactly what I wanted next in my career. After a much-needed career break, I knew I wanted something that bridged my interests in technology and law, but the specifics were blurry.

Through a lengthy dialogue with the AI, during which we discussed my strengths, interests, and professional goals, I was able to clarify exactly what I was looking for. ChatGPT helped me pinpoint roles that sat neatly at the intersection of legal practice and emerging technologies, creating a tailored shortlist of companies and positions that genuinely excited me.

Leveraging AI for résumés, cover letters, and interviews

Armed with this newfound clarity, it was time to get practical. I turned again to ChatGPT, this time for help with polishing my résumé, crafting standout cover letters, and preparing for interviews.

Starting with my résumé, I fed ChatGPT my old document alongside descriptions of the roles I was targeting. Within minutes, it transformed my résumé into a crisp, impactful summary of my professional achievements. It suggested action-oriented language and quantified outcomes, things I hadn't thought to highlight on my own. My previously bland document suddenly felt dynamic and compelling, accurately reflecting my experience and capabilities.

Next, I tackled the dreaded cover letters. Each application felt like writing a small autobiography, a tedious task I usually procrastinated endlessly on. With ChatGPT, the experience transformed. I provided basic details about the role and why I was interested, and the AI-generated, polished, tailored cover letters genuinely sounded like me, only better. Minor tweaks aside, the AI-driven drafts were ready to send out immediately, saving me countless hours of stress and editing.

Then came mock interviews. ChatGPT proved invaluable here, simulating realistic interview scenarios and offering insightful feedback on my responses. It didn't just spit out generic interview questions. It tailored them specifically to each role, asking about industry trends, hypothetical scenarios, and even personal motivations. The AI coached me through my answers, helping me refine my responses to ensure they were concise, authentic, and impactful.

Landing the ideal job: Full circle with AI

The impact of these preparations was swift and substantial. Within just two months of starting this tech-driven job hunt, I secured a role at a cutting-edge tech company developing AI specifically designed for lawyers. It felt surreal yet perfectly aligned. After all, my journey began and ended with artificial intelligence.

This role wasn't just a paycheck. It was a full-circle moment, merging my long-standing passion for law with my newly sparked enthusiasm for technology.

Would I use AI to job hunt again? Absolutely. In fact, I can't imagine tackling such a stressful process without it. AI didn't just streamline tedious tasks. It empowered me to present myself authentically and strategically in a fiercely competitive market. It took the overwhelm out of job hunting, making the process not only manageable but surprisingly enjoyable.

In a world increasingly defined by technology, leveraging AI in your career search isn't just clever. It's becoming essential.

Whether you're pivoting careers, re-entering the workforce, or just exploring new opportunities, AI could be the ally you never knew you needed. For me, embracing AI was the smartest professional decision I made in years, proving that sometimes the best way to adapt to change is to lean into it fully.