The Beginning of the Career Journey

First off, hello! If you’re reading this, it means that you’ve taken some time out of your day to stroll alongside me as I endure the winding path that is my “career journey” into the professional and adult world. Right now, this means finding an internship that would occupy my summer in New Jersey, that I would hopefully enjoy doing and give me some professional experience. I should clarify, however, that while this is a journey, it’s a journey into what can be described as nothing less than the unknown. Currently, I see the professional world as the Fire Swamp in the Princess Bride, with the giant R.O.U.S.- or rodents of unusual size- being the possibility of me waitressing for the summer, just ready to attack me and leave me to die with no professional experience. While I have plenty of friends and family who believe that waitressing this summer wouldn’t be worse for me than being attacked by a giant rodent, I disagree. It’s not that I’m bad at waitressing- I’m actually quite good at it- it’s just that I’ve already done it for three years, all while experiencing its profoundly negative psychological effects. For example, even though I haven’t worked in a restaurant for several months, I had a stress-dream the other night that I served a customer a Diet Coke when he had asked for a regular one. I woke up in a cold sweat.

Luckily, I have the people at CP&R to prevent me from such fates. On Monday, I met with them to go over my résumé, and to just talk “professional things” in general. While I admit that this wasn’t the strongest strategy for productive discussion, I didn’t really know what else to talk about. I’m the type of person who is interested in almost everything, and I want to utilize internships as a way of trying out different careers and seeing what I don’t like, more than what I do like. As an English and Organization Studies double-major, I take classes in a wide variety of things, and have a variety of skills. I know I don’t want to do something with math or business, and do want to do something with writing and problem solving. Besides that, I’m basically stumped.

My visit to CP&R was incredibly helpful, as I learned to reformat my résumé in a way that clearly demonstrated my strengths to employers, and to use the online resources available for networking. I also learned that networking, apparently, isn’t just when you go out and blatantly ask alumni to hire you- it’s just talking to people to learn more about their field and what they do. This is a big relief. Networking is a big fear of mine, and will be discussed further in another blog post, when I start actually doing it. For now, my networking experience is limited to this guy my grandpa “knows in the city (New York),” who apparently has “crazy connections- and an office in Australia.” My grandpa, a county health inspector, “doesn’t really know what he does”, but thinks he “might have something to offer me.” In the future, I’m going to try and make connections outside of my grandparent’s vague circle of friends.

With my limited connections and job experience, it’s going to be difficult and potentially impossible for me to find an internship for this summer. However, I’m hopeful that this journey will at least teach me more about myself, and what my career goals are. I’m realizing that no one is going to come up to me and say “Wow! You would be a great P.R. person for this non-profit that helps tutor kids in foster homes!” or any other weirdly specific career path- it’s something that I’m going to have to figure out for myself. As Schmidt from New Girl said, “Without ash to rise from, the phoenix would just be a bird getting up.” I’m going to try and be more than just a bird getting up.

What Not to Wear

What Not to Wear on TLC used to be one of my favorite shows. I loved watching them buy new clothes and help transform people’s looks. For a while, I considered dressing poorly and staging my entrance onto the show. Of course, most of the show is predicated off of helping people dress more professionally for the workplace, and I don’t even have a real job yet. So needless to say, that idea probably won’t happen. Nor would I ever want to look like those people do before Stacy and Clinton worked their magic.

While it’s hard to say what I imagine myself wearing to work since I don’t even know what I want to do, many images flash through my mind. I’ve always believed that I could be a well-dressed professional. If I were to work in an office, I would love to wear cute professional clothing and dress up everyday. Now if I were to be an outdoor adventurer, my attire would be extremely different. I could get a good pair of hiking boots, some nice zip-off pants, and a big floppy sun hat to protect myself. I’d be perfectly happy with that outfit, as well. And if I were to be a chef, I would definitely love to wear some gray checker board pants and a chef’s hat, because who doesn’t want to dress up like that everyday?

Not all jobs require the same attire, but it is a huge skill to know what to wear. When interviewing, it’s important to look professional and give off a good first impression. And once you’ve started your job, you can get a feel for your everyday wear.

Although it’s probably not the best idea to base what job you would like to have off of what clothing you want to wear, but it may be something to consider. And definitely don’t have to be sabotaged by your friends and put on What Not to Wear, because then you know you have gone too far downhill.

Hello, my Name is…

People always call my boss by her first name.

I took a call from a man a few weeks ago who had a question about her view on something–he started out by calling her by her official title and last name, but then interrupted himself: “You know,” he said, “I just don’t feel like I can call her Sheriff Jones. I just have to call her Jessie.”

 

(Note: No, my boss isn’t a sheriff, and no, her name isn’t Jessie Jones. But she would be awesome at it if she was.)

 

Then again, I’d probably never hear the end of it.

Then this week, one of my coworkers noticed something. “When did they start writing ‘Jessie’ on our newspapers?” The folks in the main lobby keep our daily newspapers for us when they arrive in the morning, and I pick up our copy on my way up to the office. They write each office’s name on the front page so we know which is ours. When I first started, they were writing “Jones” on the front page, like they were doing for the guys in the office, Senator Butcher, Representative Baker, and Mayor Candlestick Maker. But sometime in the last week or so they stopped writing “Jones” and started writing “Jessie.”

 

I’ve even heard folks refer to her as Jessie and others by their last names in the same sentence–“If I don’t get a response from Jessie, I’ll be contacting Butcher, Baker, and Candlestickmaker too!”

 

Now, being, well, me, I was immediately skeptical of all this. Why only use her first name? She’s the first woman from our state to hold her current position, and she was also the first woman to hold several prominent positions prior to her election to this one, and it’s very obvious that she’s popular, at least baseds on the calls I get to the office.

 

But is it a sign of disrespect that folks call other leaders and politicians in our community and state by their title or last name and my boss by her first?
My boss herself doesn’t think so. The coworker who noticed the newspaper thing told me that she asked our boss if it bothered her. She replied that no, it didn’t bother her–in fact, she loved it. She loves that people feel comfortable enough with her to call her Jessie.

 

The more I think about it, the more I have to agree with her. While calling her by her title is certainly respectful (I definitely call her that in person), the fact that people call her by her first name does not put her at a disadvantage as a politician–who would you rather vote for, Mayor Candlestick Maker or your best buddy Jessie?

 

As I’ve said before, this part of the country can be a funny place. I’ve had men call me “sweetheart” on the phone before (and he was not a 90-year-old man thanking me for helping him with something, either–he was a 40-something guy who asked me whether he “needed to repeat his phone number, sweetheart”). And, full disclosure, we’re one of those states that currently has lawsuits pending because of our gay marriage and abortion laws. But at the same time, folks out here have a reputation of being friendly people (if not always the most forward-minded), and I think that my boss is right to take it as a compliment.

 

In fact, that’s my career advice for the week, folks–if you’re representing people, you need to make sure they like you. A lot. Enough to vote for you and maybe even donate some of their hard-earned money to your campaign. Or, if you’re managing a company, follow you and not despise you. It’s a delicate balance, though–people might not take you seriously if you don’t take yourself seriously. But my boss is really good at striking this balance: people take her seriously because she’s smart, speaks directly, and doesn’t back down from the principles she promised people when she ran for office. But she is also a casual, friendly, smiley person who is as quick to crack a joke with you as she is to hit you with a hard question when she needs to. So if you’re doing your job right, you might as well take the compliment and run with it.

 

Thoughts, folks? Would you rather be called by your first name or title? Is one more respectful? Does it depend? Have a good week!

Perception and Professionalism

This post was prompted by a discussion with my mentor, who was also on the panel for my phone interview. She was describing why they chose me, and made a comment that unnerved me a bit. She said that at first it seemed strange to do just a phone interview, but she saw now that in some ways it was more fair.

I wasn’t sure what she meant–was she referencing my height, my disability… or even my nose piercing? I knew the sentiment underneath was positive–that they loved my phone interview, and that my supervisor was very happy with my performance–but I was scared, and even slightly shocked by the implication that I would not have gotten the job with an in person interview.

I don't wear this dress to work. But the rest of me, professional or not, is pretty inescapable.

I don’t wear this dress to work. But the rest of me, professional or not, is pretty inescapable.

 

It never seriously occurred to me that my persona–tiny, quirky, and as I tend to say, vaguely disabled, could be dragging me down. I think of myself as professional: I try to be tactful, appropriate, and focused at work. I don’t show lots of skin, debate politics, or talk about wherever I danced or slept the night before.

At the same time, I want to be me, not bland corporate worker #237. I do have a nose stud, I dye my hair, I’m politically active, and I was raised with an ethos that many would describe as hippie-dippie. Of course, I know it’s not professional or appropriate to bring all of my experiences and identities to every situation. I try to walk that line as best I can. I don’t want to sabotage my reputation professionally or academically, but I’m also critical of the homogeneity of “professionalism”. A lot of advice to young people about being professional really seems to be telling us to hide who we are if we fall at all outside the norm.

Right now, the way I’m handling this is to be politely myself. I wear appropriate clothing, but my business casual is perhaps slightly on the earthy side (I have a lot of scarves.) I’ve tried to wear more makeup and sheath dresses, but I feel uncomfortable and less confident when I don’t look like myself. And ultimately, my professional strength depends on my confidence. It doesn’t matter how great my ideas are if no one hears them. And to my surprise, despite all of the ways I don’t resemble a generic young professional, people listen to me at work because I know what I’m talking about. They see that I work hard, that I ask questions, and that I speak with clarity and confidence.

I’m getting to know myself pretty well–my weaknesses (real and perceived by society) and my strengths. I can compensate for my weaknesses and capitalize on my strengths. That doesn’t stop me from freaking out occasionally, but it helps.

Assertion and Argument

In debate, we try to develop full arguments, with assertions followed by reasoning, evidence, and significance. The same is true in most college writing. In the rest of life, most of us speak just in assertions–statements of opinion without much to back them up. In the workplace, being assertive is good, while being seen as argumentative is probably unfavorable. This is kind of silly wordplay–after all, nouns and adjectives have different connotations all the time, and labeling aside, the elements of sound argumentation (reasoning, evidence, etc) are key to workplace success. But somehow these words float in my head when I think about the tension I feel as a young, assertive, and yes, argumentative woman.

I’ve been debating formally since freshman year of high school, and informally for much longer. Seven year old Mia had some truly eloquent speeches about why reading Harry Potter throughout math class was acceptable behavior. As I grew up, I was always an enthusiastic participant in classroom discussion. Supposedly many girls quiet down in the classroom around puberty, but I discovered feminist blogs in middle school, and if anything, got louder.

Now in the workplace, my verbal confidence is mostly an asset, but I’m always tiptoeing at the edge between confidence and impudence. This is my first internship in which I’m regularly participating in meetings and email conversations with adults who have significantly more professional experience than me, but who essentially treat me as one of the team. I’m conscious of my status as an intern, but I also want to add value, which I can’t do with my mouth shut.

I talked to my mentor at the organization about this tension, and she told me that when she began work there, 20 years ago, she was told that she was too quiet. She was actually prompted to attend a leadership development program for women. Her advice, based on the organization’s culture, was to always speak up in meetings, even if it was just in agreement.

So I’m trying my best to not mute my voice, to be professional but fierce. It’s a balance I know how to strike in other areas, but it’s still adjusting to the strictly professional world.

Has anyone been told they are too argumentative or too quiet in the workplace? Is anyone else deeply afraid of the send button on email?