A Project I Care About

When I was a student at Mount Carmel, I had a teacher named Coach E. He was everyone's physics teacher, but he was my AP Physics teacher. AP Physics at Mount Carmel was the class we were warned about a year in advance. We were told how difficult it was, that you couldn't get away with things like you could in other honors or even AP classes. Our honors cohort of 40–50 kids would be cut down to a single small class, and anyone who didn't belong wouldn't make it. The stragglers were told to take Environmental Science.

I was always the "lack-of-trying" honors kid. But I rarely backed down from a fight, so I was one of fewer than 20 students who signed up for AP Physics my senior year.

It was tough. This wasn't a class you could survive on extra credit or participation. Many days started with a bell-ringer: a difficult physics problem to solve in just a few minutes. Tests carried heavy weight, and they weren't easy. I was never a D or F student, but in this class I was hanging on to a teetering B-, maybe lower.

The "Que Sera Sera Award"

At the end of the year, Coach E held an AP Physics awards ceremony. He handed out off-the-cuff awards with names he'd thought of the night before. Some students were recognized for creativity or humor, others for sheer excellence. I remember the "Halo Award," given to a student who applied AP Physics to his love of making video games.

Toward the end, he announced the "Que Sera Sera Award"—"whatever will be, will be." It was for the student who allowed AP Physics to affect his life the least outside the classroom. The student who cared the least about how the class could impact his future. He called my name.

I was shocked—and a little ashamed. This wasn't exactly an award to be proud of, especially coming from someone I'd been a pupil of for two years. Coach E was a legendary teacher and football coach who had even taught my dad decades earlier. And his summation of my time with him was that, more than anyone, I refused to let this class matter.

Of course, he was right. When it came to academics, I cared so little. I didn't care about what grade I might get in AP Physics. After a hard football practice, there was no chance I'd go home and do homework or study for a test. During the daily bell ringers, I'd often hand in my answers thinking, whatever will be, will be. I didn't even bother to cheat.

What I Do Care About

The truth is there are many things I simply don't care enough to try for. People who know me have heard me say, "that's stupid," "so pointless," "who cares," "whatever," or "oh well." When it comes to something I don't believe in but feel obligated to do, I just don't care—like Peter Gibbons in Office Space talking to the Bobs.

But there are things I care about deeply, and people who know that side of me might be surprised by this story.

I care about my sisters and my family—about dressing up as an elf on Christmas and giving them presents. When I was a player, I cared about Mount Carmel Football and brought energy and intensity to every practice. I care about my girlfriend and the future we're building together. I care—maybe too much—about Halo and online gaming.

And I care a lot about my work. People I've worked with know how attached I get to the software projects I build. It shows in the detail and cleanliness of the UI and code.

Introducing Bench Fi

One project I've cared about for a long time is something I call Bench Fi. I've had this idea for over six years. It combines my love of comparison metrics and benchmarking analytics with personal finance. Figuring out how I stack up—on the football field, in Halo, or against my own expectations—has always mattered to me. Success is relative.

Think of it like lifting weights without knowing what's heavy or light for your size. You can't measure progress without context. If someone tells me they make $100,000, my reaction depends on whether they live in New York, a Chicago suburb, or a small town in Indiana. Bench Fi gives you that baseline for your financial life. Where do you stand compared to people your age, in your city, at your income level? Are you behind or further ahead than you thought? What's realistic to aim for in the next few years?

Why Context Matters

That matters because, like in Coach E's class, the truth comes whether you prepare or not. You might think you're doing great saving for retirement, only to find out you're behind your peers.

Bench Fi is my way of giving people the kind of reality check Coach E gave me—minus the embarrassment of an unexpected award. My hope is people don't feel shame about the numbers they see or percentile they fall in. It's about context. Knowing where you stand gives you the power to decide what to do next. Maybe you're ahead and can take a breath. Maybe you're behind and need to push harder. Either way, you can't change what you don't measure. And finances are all about measuring up against others.

Stop Budgeting, Start Comparing

That "Que Sera Sera" mindset might work for a physics grade, but not for your financial future. Whatever will be doesn't have to be—if you know where you are and where you want to go. Stop budgeting, and get comparing.

The Bottom Line: Your financial future doesn't have to be left to chance. Understanding where you stand compared to your peers gives you the power to make informed decisions about your money and your future.

Ready to see how you stack up? Explore our financial calculators to get started on your benchmarking journey.