From Explosives Site Manager to AssignArch: 6 Decisions That Built My Cross-Field Career

"AssignArch" (a play on "Assign it to Arch" — give the weird stuff to Arch) is how I sum up 18 years of career — not mastering one discipline, but hanging around enough interesting circles that I became "the person you call when you have a weird problem." This is a stocktake of where I am today, and the 6 key decisions that got me here.

I woke up this morning and went straight into deadline mode.

A thought flashed through my head: when did I actually "start" writing or creating?

Vaguely, I remember it was 2004. I'd spent a year at a Malaysian university, then emigrated to the US.

Yes — I "used to" have a US green card. I don't anymore. I gave it up.

In my early 20s, I didn't adjust well to life in the US. I was in a bad mood every day, didn't want to leave the house, just stayed home.

My only joy was reading novels online — on an early Taiwanese web fiction platform called "小說頻道" (Novel Channel).

There were no online comics, no anime streams, no series, no YouTube back then. After reading enough, I started writing my own.

I wrote chinese martials, time-travel, romance — channeling the bad mood of someone who never went outside.

And eventually, I made my first big decision: leave the US and go back to Malaysia.

Decision 1: When the environment is "toxic," how did I decide to leave the US?

In the US, I was living under the same roof as a relative who'd come over from China.

Honestly, I don't get along with people who insist everyone do things their way.

So I just stayed home every day, reading novels, chatting with strangers online, writing fantasy stories.

This went on for three months. Then my mom said: if you really hate it, just come back.

That was the trigger. I used my mom's credit card to buy a plane ticket on the spot. I flew back to Malaysia the next day.

From decision to action — zero hesitation.

When I landed in Malaysia, riding home in the taxi and watching the familiar scenery roll past, I felt "reborn."

Yesterday I was in the US, today I'm in Malaysia. It felt unreal.

That was the first time I made a choice for my own life — and a sharp fork at that.

I felt the environment was "toxic," and I did everything I could to escape. That's it.

I went back to my original Malaysian university and got more serious about my studies.

I'd given up the opportunity in the US. I couldn't drift in Malaysia either. I had to put in some effort to justify the move, right?

Living seriously and studying hard was the necessary commitment to the version of myself who'd run back home.

Two takeaways from this story:

1. Leave toxic environments — and leave fast!

2. If you choose to flee somewhere, find somewhere worth working hard for!

Decision 2: Why I left my high-school friend group and joined the student council

When I got back to Malaysia, I reconnected with my university friends. They were surprised to see me back.

My university friends fell into two groups:

Friends from high school who happened to attend the same university
People I met in college — same department or club

I remember the day I waited nearly an hour for one of my high-school friends to show up for a meal.

He was playing a game — DOTA, Defense of The Ancient — and when I'd called him, he'd just started a match!

This wasn't the first time. Other people's time isn't worth anything to him? Late, no apology, just a smug grin.

I was thinking: should I really keep hanging around these people? Such a waste of time.

Already in a foul mood, I forced myself to go to Pizza Hut with them anyway.

We ordered pizza, ate a bit, and one of them got a call from another high-school friend who wanted to join us.

OK, one more friend at the table — should be fine, right? Wrong. Start of a nightmare.

This guy showed up and immediately started pitching us on Amway.

Yes, that Amway — the multi-level marketing, direct sales.

There's a reason people hate MLM. This guy had picked up a few sales lines and started "Amway-ing" us.

I vaguely remember the lines that grated:

What do you think you're getting out of gaming all day?
How can you face your parents playing games every day?
Don't you feel you're wasting your life?

I was already in a bad mood. Now some self-righteous guy was lecturing us.

"I'm done eating." I said it and walked out.

On the way back, I ran into another group — new friends I'd made in university.

They asked if I'd eaten, asked if I wanted to grab something. I went with them to McDonald's.

They could tell I was upset — my face wasn't hiding it — so on the way back we hit a mamak stall for late-night supper too.

That night I made my second decision: stay away from high-school friends.

Looking back, my personality just didn't match that high-school crew — and I'd actually hung out with a different group during high school anyway.

After that, I never participated in their circle again.

That university friend I bumped into on the way back? He later ran for student council election and eventually became the president.

I ran for council too, and got elected as a parliament comittee member. That kicked off two years of student council work.

Every week, reviewing other clubs' event budgets and funding requests, debating and consulting in meetings:

How much should this event get? Can we cut spending or raise more donations?
Is the council's administrative budget reasonable? Why does it cost this much?
Long meetings, everyone debate-team-trained, everyone argues fluently

Two takeaways from this story:

1. Leave toxic groups — and leave fast.

2. Once you've left, you can finally look for something better.

The funny part: that student council president later went into MLM himself, and I became one of his sub-agent. XD

So MLM isn't the problem. It's the people. Learn to be a decent human first, then go do business.

How did the MLM thing go? My friend made a lot of money. I lost money. XD

PS: I'm never doing MLM again!

Decision 3: At an explosives company, how did being a manager teach me PM Lesson #1?

Right after I graduated from university in Malaysia, a close friend asked if I wanted to come help at his company.

This was an easy decision. My reasoning was pretty simple:

Direct management role — sweet! Vanity!
Company gives you a car, all gas covered. I get to learn to drive! Nice!
Close to home, set my own hours, hit the targets and we're good. Perfect!

Day 1, I picked up the car and crashed into another one.

Day 2, on the way to work, I almost drove off a cliff.

Day X, I was hauling a load of explosives up the mountain to blow up a hillside. Looking back — terrifying.

I drove a car with bad brakes that needed multiple hit to stop — felt like a Fast & Furious side mission.

Muddy roads that turned into landslides in heavy rain. Mountain roads that fogged up to zero visibility in light rain.

Standing too close to a blast and almost getting hit by flying debris. Getting struck by lightning while burying explosives — running for my life as it detonated.

This was basically the daily life of an explosives manager. One incident a day. 365 incidents a year.

Lightning hitting buried explosives is a once-in-20-years event. I got it. Lucky me.

Just when I was starting to settle in and things seemed smooth — of course, that's when an accident hit.

One day, we had a blasting job. While my crew was burying the charges, I went off to lunch.

When I got back, I walked into a wall of furious mine workers and an angry manager from our upper management group.

The reason: my boss's brother had shown up to "supervise" the planting of the explosive, he decided that everything looked fine, and just blast it.

No evacuation. No warning siren. No notice. Just blew the charges. Scared the hell out of everyone.

Naturally, I was the one taking the heat — I was the site manager. Heh.

And I couldn't touch my boss's brother. All I could do was keep him away from the mine I was responsible for.

This experience was my PM origin story — and the first question on my project management syllabus.

In a situation like that, what would you do?

Apologize immediately!
Confirm the situation first!
Make clear it wasn't your fault!

The answer: apologize immediately! Because there's a wall of angry miners in front of you!

Who's actually right doesn't matter. What matters is: did you solve the problem?

The problem is: they're furious!

But back then, I was a rookie. Of course I didn't apologize first — I tried to make clear it wasn't my fault.

The senior manager from the other side said: I don't care. Are you the area lead or not? If yes, then it's on you!

I was speechless. I apologized on the spot, and another company's boss helped defuse the situation.

There's only one point here: decisions should be simple.

Everything needs a reason. The simpler the reason, the better. Like facing a crowd of angry people — you can only apologize.

Later, when I was leading my own team, I'd often say: when you face angry people, handle the emotion first, then handle the facts. Who's right or wrong is for the post-mortem, not the scene.

Decision 4: My restaurant collapsed in six months — how did I decide to cut losses?

When the explosives chapter ended, I happened to meet some new friends.

One of them introduced me to a restaurant for sale. My entrepreneurial dream got greedily ignited.

And then? There is no "and then." It collapsed in six months. The whole journey can only be described as chaos.

I won't recount the absurd journey of running this restaurant. My life isn't short on absurdity anyway.

I learned a lot. But for an entrepreneur, learning is just the residual value at the end.

When you've lost everything, of course all you've got left is what you learned. What else? Stay positive!

After it shut down, I was still scrambling around trying to keep the restaurant on life support.

Then one day, I woke up. Time to cut losses. Time to admit I had really failed.

Ah, what a painful lesson.

This is one of the most important milestones in my life: owning and facing my failure.

I rarely see people who can genuinely "admit they failed."

It feels like admission negates you. But real reflection comes from "accepting the version of you that failed."

Once you can accept your own imperfection, you finally know how to do things well.

My takeaway:

"Owning your failure" is what lets you keep growing. Don't let "fear of failure" become the chain on your growth.

After that, I fell into self-doubt and depression — three months at home. XD

Decision 5: Why I came from Malaysia to Taiwan, and decided to stay for graduate school

Six months after the restaurant collapsed, I came to Taiwan to study and clear my head.

I studied 2 years in Malaysia and 2 in Taiwan to get the degree — a sister-school dual program.

Few credits transferred over, so I had to grind: 25+ credits a semester.

Starting late and behind, at this age (25), continuing university could only mean pushing harder.

My two years at Feng Chia University had almost no entertainment. Eat. Code. That was it.

Coming to Taiwan to study was a passive decision. I really did just come to "clear my head."

Get good at coding, go back to Malaysia and work as an engineer. My plan was that plain.

But after I got here, my horizons kept expanding through people I met. So this is what the top of the field sees. I wanted to stay.

I talked it over with my parents: I'd stay and build something here. First goal — head north for graduate school.

Salaries and opportunities in Taipei beat Taichung. I ended up in National Chengchi University (NCCU), College of Communication, Master's Program in Digital Content (a.k.a. "the Digital Content Program").

PS: it's a deep hole. A cross-disciplinary deep hole. To my Digital Content Program juniors — hang in there!

Update: This piece was written in 2023. Since 2024 I've been teaching part-time at NCCU. In 2025 and 2026 I wrote recommendation letters for students and supervised their research proposals. Glad to say they all passed their orals and joined the Digital Content Master Program. I Hope both of them graduate smoothly XD.

Taiwan back then was at the peak of its campus startup era.

My reason for going to grad school was the same as a lot of people's: I wanted a job that paid a bit more.

That single decision dropped me directly into a brand new field: cross-disciplinary, tech + creative.

Starting from my thesis, I gradually moved toward "education."

This was the first time I felt a sense of vocation.

What I want to say is:

A good decision usually opens up possibilities.

A bad outcome — that has to do with the decision itself. Like when I decided to open a restaurant.

A good outcome — that has nothing to do with the decision itself. It comes from the effort during the process. Like what I got from grad school.

Honestly, grad school was harder than I expected. XD

I had to do research, write code, write the thesis, do design — pretty much one-stop-shop.

The result: my first job after graduating actually was one-stop-shop. Online course one-stop-shop.

Decision 6: Joining ALPHA Camp — how do you work with a team of "monsters"?

One of the most important decisions in my life was joining ALPHA Camp.

Here, I met Ellen — master of curriculum design and master of yelling.

Whenever my course design was bad, I would hear a roar from Ellen!

Under Ellen's roars, I became a professional one-stop-shop for producing teaching materials.

Course outline, content, slides, audio/video recording, video editing, platform upload — independent operation, no problem (proud).

I wasn't actually at ALPHA Camp long. About 9 months.

Small company, very tight team, real warmth between people.

The CEO was generous about sharing his startup philosophy and the reasoning behind decisions.

I'm still grateful I got to join ALPHA Camp. Caught up with them recently for a get-together.

Senior leadership and the founder were all Ivy League grads with big-company resumes.

The line from the founder that stuck with me most:

If this startup fails, we'll just go travel the world.

Seriously? We're definitely from different worlds, I thought.

The reason I joined ALPHA Camp was simple: they were the pioneers of education startups.

You learn the most when you're on the front line of an industry. What I gained: I became a one-stop-shop for doing online course.

When you work with strong people, you can feel how high their standards and attitude run.

There's a saying:

Other people are more talented, have more resources, work harder than you — and use better methods!

That's exactly what I saw at ALPHA Camp. I called them monsters (in a good way!).

After working with monsters for a stretch, my own standards and skills started catching up.

In Life Planning, I talked about how this insight took the anxiety out of my career:

1. Pick a good environment. As long as you're committed enough, you'll naturally pick things up.

2. Put in the time. The results will come on their own.

I'm not great at goal-setting. So I picked something different: get into a circle, and grind to keep up.

Over time, I got used to moving between different circles, jumping into different battlefields — until I became AssignArch.

How AssignArch was forged: the price of choosing what you "love"

Why am I called AssignArch (萬事屋阿泰)?

Because a lot of people come to me with problems. Or maybe — I'm the only person they can come to.

These problems are usually uncharted territory, weird questions, messy projects.

After enough of these, I'd already become AssignArch. You could call this the price of my choices.

In my piece Like vs. Good At, I said: my life choices are always made on "like."

I love new things, so I drift through different circles, and the sum of it all is one thing — a problem-solving generalist: AssignArch.

Is this a good way to live? Up to you. I don't recommend it. Not at all.

In fact, I think I qualify as a polymath (my own words — please don't roast me!).

But you have to understand: being a polymath is completely useless for getting a high-paying job.

The high-paying jobs in the market are highly specialized. Specialization is what pays. That's the norm.

In other words: companies don't need someone with a hundred Junior-level skills.

They also can't verify whether you actually have a hundred Junior-level skills.

And many of those skills are soft skills, which are even harder to verify.

On top of that, since my interests are wide and I pick jobs by what I like, my work history looks completely incoherent. XD

Job 1: explosives company manager
Job 2: restaurant owner
Job 3: online course designer
Job 4: academic researcher
Job 5: startup executive

Unless some industry heavyweight vouches for me and gives me credit, it's hard to evaluate objectively.

The price of choosing what you "love" is: your career may not unfold smoothly. If you can accept that — why not?

In reality, we all try a lot of things before we figure out what we "actually love."

I didn't step onto the "education" career path until 2017, after I finished grad school.

In 2017, I was 32. Were the years before that wasted? I don't think so.

But not everyone can handle a multi-track life. So I don't recommend it to others.

AssignArch (萬事屋阿泰) is the summary I gave myself in 2019.

FAQ

Q: If you choose "love" as your career standard, will you starve? A: You'll go hungry, but you won't die. I didn't step onto "education" — the path I actually want to walk long-term — until 32. The 10 years before that were detours. If you can accept slower salary growth and an incoherent career, this path works. If not, build capital first with what you're "good at," then validate "love" as a side project.

Q: Won't a cross-disciplinary career make my résumé look "unfocused"? A: Not necessarily. It depends on whether the field you're entering urgently needs your specific cross-disciplinary combo. My route happened to land right.

Q: Is there ever a "too late" decision in life? A: I went back to university at 25, didn't lock in my vocation until 32, and started a PhD at 39 — so I'd say no. You need to start. Don't use "too late" as the excuse for "not starting."

Keep reading

Passion vs. Strength: how to tell whether you actually love something, or whether you've just gotten so good at it that it's become a habit
Life Planning: viewing your career layout through the lens of a Trading Card Game (TCG) deck