I Still Don't Know What I Want to Be When I Grow Up

I've certainly said this before. In so many ways, I'm quite jealous of my wife. From a young age, she knew what she wanted to be, professionally, in her life (a nurse). She pursued that career and became one of the best. She's succeeded everywhere she's been, and she's been routinely promoted due to her exceptional skills.

I've not had a similar experience.

When I was very young (and I don't mean young like, "I want to be an astronaut" or "I want to be the third-baseman for the Yankees."), I mean younger than I am now -- but old enough to be aware of what a career is, I wanted to be a sabermetrician.

Interestingly, today, that wouldn't be met with as much skepticism as it was back then. Now, with films like Moneyball, and the public awareness of pioneers like Bill James, it's a viable career (albeit, still a difficult one to break into). But, in the 1980s, no one knew what I was talking about.

While I was in ninth grade, I participated in an independent study project, in which I decided I was going to write a book, similar to James' seminal "Baseball Abstract" works. In my research, I reached out to James (but he refused to take my calls). I did, however, make a great connection with Craig Wright, who became a pretty influential force for a year.

As an aside, I should mention, throughout this time, my *dream* was to work in sports; in many ways, working as a statistician for the Elias Sports Bureau was my perfect setting. It combined my fascination with statistics and sports into one nice little box.

But, in one discussion with Craig Wright, my entire career trajectory changed. I asked him what courses I needed to focus on, so I could do what he was going as a career. I assumed he'd say Statistics or some mathematics course (or, even an accounting course). Instead, without hesitation, he said, "English." When I questioned him (to ensure he understood what I was asking) he responded, "If you cannot effectively communicate your findings, it's as good as never having done them." Wow.

I marched out of the library (where I'd phoned him) and headed to the Journalism teacher's office, and signed up to be a sports reporter for the high school paper. I continued with that vision throughout college, eventually taking over as editor-in-chief (despite the fact that I never wanted to do anything but write about sports). And then, on my "exit interview" from college, my faculty advisor outlined what I could expect, salary-wise, from my career. And I decided I wanted more.

I don't begrudge anyone who's followed their dream -- a good friend of mine definitely took the long road; working for small weekly and daily papers, before finally becoming a major player in the sports journalism world. For me, I didn't have that patience.

And, so I ended up in magazine journalism. I worked in several industries for my first publishing company: woodworking, plastics formulation and finally, janitorial product distribution. I devoted myself to the magazines, ultimately becoming the youngest editor-in-chief the company had (although, subsequently, younger editors have certainly been in place). I was a "shining, rising star."

Ultimately, power went to the head of my editorial director (who had actually been a friend at one time) and in a capricious move, we had a parting of the ways (in related news, the magazine, which I'd helped dramatically increase advertising revenue through a new approach, had folded less than two years later). I headed into NYC where I took the lead role of a start-up magazine on the commercial shallow-draft maritime industry and helped it become profitable.

Again, hungry for more, I left that role and took over the lead editor role of a magazine about lighting design, helping that magazine turn a profit for the first time in several years. Sadly, 9/11 then happened, and our discussions about reducing staff became a more pressing matter. Rather than eliminating lower-level editorial staff; the decision was made to cut from the top, and I was gone.

At this point, I decided print journalism wasn't really for me any longer. I'd done a great deal -- accomplished a lot, and succeeded at every level. I headed to graduate school to become an English teacher, but realized my heart wasn't in it (and, unlike the previous industries, where I could still be extremely successful without *loving* the industry, I felt it was imperative to be passionate about teaching).

I started with a company in their marketing department and then found a growing need for internal communications and operational efficiency in the company. I put together a comprehensive job description and pitched the role *and* myself to the higher-ups at the company, ultimately being named to the role, and eventually winning an award for my communications strategy and plans.

Much like the last job I recently held, this was a new position. It was a role that was totally unfamiliar to most of the company, which didn't recognize how important the role should be (and how successful companies use this role). Consequently, more of my day was spent evangelizing and justifying my existence, as compared to actually *doing* the vital work. This is a taxing existence.

Part of it was a hesitation for "something new" (but, of course, we all know how that story ends ... companies that don't want to change, well, end up closed, eventually ... especially in today's economy which is more fluid than ever before ... hell, Google doesn't even have a 5-year plan. I remember reading that they don't plan more than 3-6 months, in fact.

The other difficulty was a lack of planning -- this type of role requires access to executives (my first week, the CFO idly said, "perhaps you should be in our executive meetings" ... two years later, I was still awaiting an invite). It also requires one of two approaches:

1. The freedom to do what I think is necessary and support of the higher-ups to accomplish those goals.
2. Definitive tasks as established by the executives (in other words, nothing as vague as "change the culture" - far more specified tasks.

I did learn quite a bit about myself and my abilities. The CEO certainly considered me a valued counselor; not only in matters of communications, but in matters of business importance as well. I regret that I didn't have as much opportunity as I thought I had, because I think we could have done great, great things there; but again, the lack of a cohesive plan (and the fickleness of our economy) didn't provide that.

Where does that leave me? I have time, now, to analyze things (and I'm certainly no closer). Do I move to Canada (where my wife's family lives) and think "Oh, they'll be ecstatic to hire me, because I'll come with NY credibility" (sometimes, life needs a drastic reboot -- I did this when I left high school and headed to college, and I never looked back).

The one negative (that is still prevalent today) is the tendency of companies to not look at "what *can* you do" but rather at "what *have* you done." Worse still, this isn't even a reflection of skills, necessarily; but rather, the industry where you've worked. I've had more than a few companies/recruiters consider me to not be a valid candidate *solely* based on the companies I've worked for (even though my responsibilities were exact matches for the positions for which they were recruiting). Again -- companies that aren't willing to look at potential and change and doing things slightly differently than they've done in the past, aren't really sticking around as much.

I'm still optimistic though; and I'm still well aware that it only takes *one* yes; one progressive company that sees my skills, traits and abilities and says, "Please do for us what you've done your entire career." I'm ready.

The Joys of Job Seeking

I have to confess. Not everything about job-seeking is awful. There's a certain amount of excitement that goes into checking out jobs and seeing how well you match up with them, and visualizing yourself working for that company.

But, sometimes, it's a little less enjoyable.

I'm not just talking about those positions that you're summarily rejected for -- even though you match up completely with the duties, you still don't even get an interview. In one case, I was told, "You haven't worked for a large company." So, I explained, I've been an editor of magazines with readerships near 70,000, and I was writing on a monthly basis. To which, the response was, "yes, but that wasn't communication." Huh?

(I've decided to simply write off companies like that ... there are companies that will look at what you *can* do for them; and companies that only want to see what you *have* done for others. I suspect, we'll see far fewer of the latter, as they go out of business. Today's marketplace doesn't reward standing still.

It's like dating. If a girl asks, "What kind of car do you drive?" and you say, "Yes, I have a car." and she asks, again, "OK, but what kind of car *is* it?" She's probably not the right girl.)


Tuesday was a pretty good day for me -- I got three phone calls for prospective jobs. One was for today (Thursday); one will happen in a couple of weeks; one was a preliminary phone screen.

I was excited about the position today; but predominantly because it was so close to my home. In fact, I hadn't even applied for the role yet (it was on my list to apply). The HR Director had found me through a resume search online. As I read through the role, I realized that the position title (manager of corporate communications) was a bit misleading -- this was a pretty hardcore marketing job. Still, I did some other research and saw some opportunity so I headed to the interview.

We began talking about my background; good conversational pace. Things were going well. We talked about my previous positions, and I outlined my accomplishments, my strengths and what I bring to the table. And then, she started asking about marketing responsibilities.

The long and short of it is that they weren't looking for a manager of corporate communications. They were looking for a marketing director. But, even more interesting, they weren't looking for just a strategic marketing director -- they also wanted someone who was an expert graphic designer. And a world-class writer. And who could manage the company intranet. And handle trade show responsibilities. And manage/update the company's internet pages.

She realized I wasn't the right candidate for this Superman-type position (I don't really know *anyone* who would be able to do all these tasks), and she apologized for wasting my time.

A few thoughts on this:

1. The company is larger than either of my previous two companies (my last two companies -- at their largest -- were about 160 and 250 people respectively. This company has more than 300 employees). The marketing and communications departments at those previous companies totaled 10 and 15 respectively. At this company, the department was comprised of ONE person.
2. I explained that they were looking for at least two people, probably more, because of the varied skills they were looking for. She seemed non-plussed by this.
3. I then asked who handled their internal communications functions. A company of 300+ surely had need of that. She explained those responsibilities were *also* handled by this position (at this point, I think I may have wondered if the company provided a boxspring and mattress for the person to simply reside in the building). I explained how internal communications is a vital part of the business; and -- having checked out the company on Glassdoor and Indeed, there surely was a need (comments there were somewhat damning of the company culture). I also discussed the company website (they're a b2b company with ZERO interaction with the public/consumers. In my opinion, the only thing that should be on the website is a company history, contacts and a way for prospective employees to learn about the culture (without having to head to Glassdoor). She sat there and nodded at me; but never commented nor did she ask me for more information. Again, this is the HR director - the person who should be most concerned with employee engagement, morale and securing the best possible workers for her company.
4. Finally, and most puzzling. This person searched for my resume, found it, and called me! Nowhere on my resume does it intimate that I'm skilled in marketing, let alone graphic design work. Why was I even called in? I explained she should change the title to "Marketing Director" - not simply because it's unfair to communications professionals who might apply; but, quite honestly, because the people she DOES want to have apply, won't be applying when the title is "manager of corporate communications." Those are two completely different skillsets. I received a blank stare back, to that suggestion.

I'm not disappointed. The culture of the company seemed to not be a good fit (on their reception window, is a sign proclaiming they have a "No friends or family" policy. I inquired as to what that was, and I was told -- if you know anyone who works there; you will not be hired. If you *do* work there; you are not able to recruit people to come work there.

So, basically, *everything* I preach about creating an engaged workforce would have been like Kryponite to this organization. Yes, it would have been nice to work so close to home; but it's far nicer to have a job that offers challenges that are at least surmountable. I don't have any interest in being set up to fail at a company. I've been down that road, and it's far from fun.

Update on "The Grudge"

So, I posted earlier about an ex-supervisor who had been forced to lay me off from a job 16 years ago. I bumped into him at the Department of Labor, and he seemed to not know who I was.

I sent him a message on Facebook, and extended an olive branch. Told him there were no hard feelings, and I offered to even get him into the job-seeking class I was teaching. I offered to share contacts, etc. I was, absolutely, the bigger person (remember, I had done nothing wrong to 'offend' him; I was merely let go).

I then noticed that he'd checked out my LinkedIn page (which means, clearly, he remembered me). Today, I saw I was now "blocked" on Facebook.

My conscience, obviously, is clear. I not only forgave the indiscretion; I also went out of my way to try and assist someone else who was in need.

The response I got has helped convince me that, sadly, some people are beyond help. They simply deserve their outcomes. It's sad (because, as cynical as I am, I also have great compassion for those less fortunate than I). However, it's clear, in some cases, those less fortunate have willingly put themselves in that position. I guess the "everything happens for a reason" mantra really is true.

Double Shot: Customer Service Oops and Grudge, Much?

As many of you know, I had knee surgery last November. Minor stuff - meniscus; but still, it takes some rehab to get back to 100 percent.

So, my health insurance doles out a specific number of visits, and -- when those run out, the physical therapist has to petition for more.

The latest petition was denied (which is something I had expected). However, what makes it so amusing was the correspondence, I received back from them.
At the bottom of the letter, was an explanation for the decision.

Your request for additional visits has been denied, for the following reasons:
1. Your pain level is severe
2. You are experiencing improvement through continued physical therapy visits
3. You have reached the maximum amount of visits allowed through our plan.

These factors were considered in arriving at this decision.

Really?

So, the fact that I'm still in pain *and* I'm getting better, is the reason for the denial? Why even put those things in there? Just simply say, "If you continue to go to physical therapy, we will stop being profitable in your case; so we're going to just cut you off now."

There are few things more annoying than others having the expectation that you're stupid.

******************

Many years ago, I worked as an editor in the trade publishing field. In fact, at the time, I was the youngest editor ever named to the highest post of a magazine (although, I know at least one person beat my record).

In any event, I ended up being let go from the company, for what was, quite honestly, an extremely capricious reason. I ended up taking on another start-up magazine, made it quite profitable; left for another magazine, and then found my way into corporate/internal communications, where I've actually won awards for my work.

So, effectively, being let go was a pretty good thing, in retrospect. I enjoyed the company; liked many of the people, so I definitely would not have been looking for other opportunities. 

Fast forward to today, and many of the people I worked with, who never wandered away from the company, are out of work; their only marketable skills are from being a trade magazine editor and writer. So, again, in retrospect, I'm happy; even relieved; that I moved on.

On Thursday, I was at the Department of Labor, taking a class, and who should walk in but my former supervisor (who also had been a friend of mine at the time). We haven't spoken since that day, 16 years ago. I recognized him instantly. I cannot imagine he didn't recognize me.

The course ended, and he took off ... literally. The second the class was over he was the first one up and the first one out the door. I followed a few minutes later, and caught sight of him leaving the restroom and even a little later, after he'd meandered through the building a few minutes. I was curious if he'd approach me, but he seemed intent on avoiding me at all costs.

I ended up walking out behind him, and I felt like a hunter tracking a wounded deer; and I felt sorry for him (which is probably why I don't hunt). I easily could've called out, "Mark!" and forced the issue; but I elected to let him walk away.

I sent him a message here on Facebook afterwards, saying -- maybe he didn't recognize me; but, in my eyes, bygones were just that. If he wanted to exchange contacts, etc. - I was cool with that; and I invited him to my presentations next week on job seeking. No response.

And, then I thought to myself; how incredible sad is this. By all accounts, *I* was the one who was wronged. I was the one who was let go without cause. And yet, SIXTEEN YEARS later, he's still the one carrying a grudge? And, rather than being mad or angered, I found myself pitying him quite a bit.

If there's anyone out there with whom I haven't spoken for 16 years, due to a perceived slight; seriously, email me .... life is too short to hold a grudge that long (and, it's hard work, too).

On the other hand, if it's only been 15 years, don't bother me til next year.

A Culture of Convenience

Now that I'm back on the job market (you can read the full announcement here, if you didn't see it already), I've been doing quite a bit of thinking about the type of company I want to work with. That has led to an analysis of what types of companies even exist today.

Lloyd Dobler, in Say Anything, said, "I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that."

My own variation now, is I don't want to work in an unstable industry. I realize in today's market, that's a near-impossibility; but I think there are some warning signs I've learned.

My second-to-last job was with a window and door distributor. The company distributed luxury products, and -- when the recession hit, harder and faster than anyone expected -- business dried up. In fact, they really haven't even fully recovered. People's priorities changed, and suddenly, buying a world-class luxury window wasn't nearly as important as it was in 2005.

The company had experienced meteoric growth, prior to that. And, to be sure, they were absolutely identified as experts in their field ... the salespeople and support personnel were among the most knowledgeable in the industry.

But, all they sold were windows and doors (eventually the product line opened up a little bit), and -- when a recession hits -- people are looking at one-stop shopping more than anything.

Think about it: If you wanted to make a sandwich, but you had to go to a bakery to buy the roll; a deli to buy the coldcuts; a farmstand for the produce/veggies; and a grocery store for the condiments ... or, you could go to a WalMart and get everything (albeit the roll, coldcuts and veggies were *guaranteed* to not be as fresh or tasty if you'd purchased them separately), which would you do? Most of us, I submit, would head to WalMart (or, quite possibly, Subway, instead), sacrificing quality for convenience.

So, now we head to my most recent position, with an educational technology distributor (again, with the distributors!). Unlike the previous company, this company had a value-add built in to the product offering. Since the technology was so new (and was being sold to school districts, nearly exclusively), the company offered a world-renowned professional development program, to help instruct teachers on the use of the equipment (initially; this eventually increased into become trusted partners with teachers with a goal of improving the quality of teaching, in general).

Sounds good, right? We have the one-stop shop. The district doesn't need to purchase the equipment from one company and then seek out training elsewhere. We've appeased that culture of convenience (and, best of all, the training really was the best around, and the pricing on the hardware was certainly competitive).

One catch. As a distributor, you're almost always at the mercy of the manufacturer and the vendor controls the pricing. So - if for example - you're accustomed to selling Equipment Piece A for $100 to the marketplace, and you're paying $75 for it to the vendor; and the manufacturer decides to raise the price to $85, you have a choice to make: Do you pass that increase on to the customer (up to $110) and risk them going elsewhere (even if they love your training program -- and, worse yet -- since we already discussed above with the sandwich metaphor, maybe they take *all* their business with them!); or do you eat the increase and see your profit margin suffer?

Tough choice. And, suddenly, things are unstable.

As a jobseeker, this is the type of industry I'm now leery of. Knowing consumers are so interested in the one-stop shop mentality; that culture of convenience that's been bred into us; it's imperative for companies to be able to satisfy that desire. But, it's equally important for a company to control its own destiny. Do any such companies exist? I'm not entirely sure. Look at Apple - certainly they're a consumer favorite; but do they really control their own destiny? Could any of their suppliers suddenly raise the rates on their materials? Or, is Apple so much the 800-lb gorilla that no vendor would dare do that?

Are there any companies that are truly "stable" today?