Last month, Berkshire alum Jeremy Miller '96 released his widely-anticipated book Warren Buffett's Ground Rules: Words of Wisdom from the Partnership of the World's Greatest Investor. Miller was recognized as Berkshire School's Volunteer of the Year in 2014 and is a current member of the School's Advisory Board.

Nina Bjurlin: Tell us a little about your life before Berkshire.

Jeremy Miller '96: I was born in 1978 in a small city along the Hudson River called Kingston, NY, about 90 miles north of New York City.  I spent my pre-Berkshire years splitting time between my mom’s house in Rosendale, NY, and my dad’s home in New Paltz, NY.

NB: And what is it that you do now?

JM: I currently work as an equity analyst at JP Morgan Asset Management – I look after the industrial investments for the Mid-Cap Value Fund. I’ve also recently published Warren Buffett’s Ground Rules (Harper 2016), which is a book that studies the key investment lessons found in what were formerly unpublished early letters from Buffett’s pre-Berkshire (Hathaway that is…) Partnership.

I sort of stumbled onto Wall Street after graduating from Oberlin College in 2000, but immediately became fascinated with markets and investing. After what was supposed to be my first job fell through at the last minute, I started at Credit Suisse the fall after I graduated. I spent the next 15 years working for a number of Investment Banks in various Research, Sales and Trading capacities before joining JP Morgan’s Asset Management division. I love the job; it’s hard to call it “work” since I have so much fun doing it.

NB: What brought you to Berkshire? 

JM: I was desperate to go to boarding school, but had no clue what that really meant.  My mom taught in the same local school that I attended from kindergarten through 8th grade – I was more than ready for some independence.  That was also a time of severe austerity-budgets in our district and all extra-curricular programs – anything not legally mandated by the state – were cut.  So, in 1992, I sent letters of inquiry to about a half dozen schools without even telling my parents.

They eventually figured it out when all these big envelopes started arriving. We compromised and agreed to “just look,” with the intention of “maybe” matriculating mid-year, if at all.  After a few near misses with schools that would have most certainly been bad choices, we came to Berkshire. Mom, Dad and I all fell in love with the place immediately, practically before we even got out of the car on our first visit.

A couple of weeks later – and I remember this so vividly – I was all alone, lying on a bed in Buck Dorm with the lights out, a bunch of borrowed ties and a blazer hanging in the closet.  It all happened so quickly because Berkshire had convinced my folks that it would be far better if I started at the beginning of the school year and, with the generous help of the Godman Fund, the School provided enough financial aid to make it all feasible.

NB: What was your first impression of the School?

JM: Everyone was very, very nice to me when I arrived.  It was very surreal but I remember feeling extremely lucky to be there.  The biggest surprise was probably the fact that there were none of the in-class discipline issues that took up so much time in the public school classrooms I was used to.

NB: Can you tell us about the friends you made at Berkshire?

JM: Three of my closest friends in life are Berkshire grads. Dylan Mattes, Zach Haberman, Patrick Fisher and I were all friends and classmates at Berkshire and immediately connected again in New York City right after college. Over time, late night poker games with “just the boys” gave way to group dinners and trips that included our wives and, now that we all have children, the party continues to grow. Everyone gets along well and we have a lot of fun together. We are also all close to Elizabeth and Jason Marian.

NB: What’s the most important lesson you learned at Berkshire?

JM: Berkshire gave me the opportunity to fail and then learn from my mistakes.  I’m still doing that now of course, but I’m pretty sure I did far more than my statistical share of idiotic things as a student.  The School was very understanding about it – much of my appreciation for how well they handled it came to me later in life.  I think it’s an important life lesson in terms of not being too dogmatic in what you believe or judgmental of others – you’re likely to change your own mind on a great many things over time.

NB: What about any influential teachers, advisors or coaches?

JM: There were so many, it’s a hard question. The Henrichson’s were extremely supportive of me and I got to know them pretty well as a member of the first class of Chinese language students at Berkshire.  I still believe their legacy at the School is understated. I loved Buck Dorm and Mr. and Mrs. Meade even more (they were my dorm parents).  Norm Merrill also had a lasting influence on me both as a coach and a teacher.  He had a wonderfully sardonic wit and behaved in a way that made me really want to live up to his high expectations.

NB: What’s it like when you come back to campus?

JM: I love sitting in Buck Valley or on the steps of Berkshire Hall because it always seems to stir up such great memories about being a student. I started coming back to campus regularly when I first got involved with the Advisory Board. I was really surprised by how much of the essence and culture of Berkshire remains intact despite all of the changes that have occurred to the physical plant and the student body. These folks are really impressive – I would not have gotten into the Berkshire of today. But, what made Berkshire “Berkshire” back when I was a student here is the same thing that makes Berkshire “Berkshire” today. I love that.

NB: Reflecting back on it all, do you have any sage advice for current students, hoping to similarly forge their own paths?

JM: Commit yourself to becoming a life-long learner and be as mentally placid as you can possibly be; always look for opportunities to tear down your best ideas and replace them with better ones. Be careful not to shout what you “know” from the rooftops – you run the risk of pounding the wrong stuff into your mind and it will be harder to get it out later. Above all, be nice and smile a lot.