Even A Stopped Clock Is Right Twice A Day

Last week my watch stopped. Annoying, I know.


I immediately thought of how even a stopped clock, despite its malfunctioning, is right twice a day. Since that day I have thought about this proverb more often than is, to be honest, necessary.


The irony of the stopped clock should not prevent me from thinking about more important things, such as health care reform and Don and Betty Draper's imminent divorce. I cannot get the stopped clock out of my head, though, because it occurs to me that the stopped clock has been “right” more often than I have in the past two weeks.


Talk about a shot to the ego.


Beyond the “non-working” label, I challenge you to find other similarities I share with the inanimate object. I can tell you that one key difference is that, unlike a stopped clock, my batteries are fully charged and ready to take on a new challenge.


Therefore, it seems that I would be “right” at least as often as chance alone would predict. Right?


I am no longer so sure, because in recent weeks I have been told that I am anything but right. I have been told that I have (brace yourself): too much experience, too little experience, too much academic, but not enough applied, experience, and good experience, but not the type required for this position. I have been told that I am (ready?) overqualified, under-qualified, sort-of qualified, and not quite qualified. Finally, I have been told that I would be (here it goes) bored on a job, overwhelmed by a job, and maybe/possibly bored on a job sometimes, but not necessarily, and maybe only slightly overwhelmed a few times a week, but not definitely.


Is it possible that I am less likely than a stopped clock to be at the right place, at the right time (no pun intended), with the right skill set?


Since I refuse to believe that a stopped clock sits just above me in the hiring food chain, I have moved to considering other explanations for why my skills and experiences so infrequently match up with what is being asked of job candidates.


I believe a big piece of the challenge I face is that, like most members of my generation, I have experiences that cannot neatly be tied together with a bright red bow. My experiences are diverse. My story is a bit messy.


In combination, my experiences carve out a career that does not match the expectations many human resources representatives and hiring executives have for a career. I have worked across industries, I have written on topics ranging from the cognitions of competitive golfers to the benefits of networking at your local bar, and I have mentored athletes, research teams, executives, and undergraduate students. I have also scooped ice cream.


I find myself with a resume that, I have been told, is tough to match. It seems this is proving to be true, as my resume does not match anyone's hiring criteria.


I believe a shift in how organizations think about job candidates may be needed. Current in-the-box job profiles mean that many qualified people with out-of-the-box experiences will never be considered.


Generational differences may be partly to blame. Consider that Boomers are more likely to be interviewing for jobs while Generation Y candidates are more likely be seeking jobs. Boomers, known for long careers, a focus in one industry, and a lifetime spent in the same organization, seem to be the oil to Generation Y's water.


Perhaps it is time to rethink the need for 10 years of experience to fill a particular position. Perhaps it is time to realize that people, across generations, are making mid-life career changes and that these changes make industry experience difficult to come by. Perhaps organizations need to recognize that a masters degree plus 10 years of experience means that no candidates under the age of 40 will even make it through the initial screening process.


A stopped clock is right twice a day.


I used to believe that I would be the right fit for a job at least this often. However, if strict guidelines regarding experience, education, and skill sets remain the main criteria for selection, I think I may not even be as lucky as a stopped clock.


Less lucky than a stopped clock. With these odds I am thinking a trip to Vegas is not in my near future. Nor, it seems, necessarily is an ideal job.

The Golden Arches. The Nike Swoosh. The Disneyland Ears.

These represent brands.

Me, I am just a twenty-something giving it a go in a somewhat confusing, and constantly changing, world. I can’t get you fries with that, I can’t help you dunk from the free throw line, and I most definitely can’t create a magical kingdom before your eyes.

Why do I need a brand?

I guess I always knew it was important to define my brand; I just never got around to fully considering what made me different from every other person I passed on the street, rode with on the subway, or stood in line next to for the ladies room.

Instead, I took the easy way out. I relied on the organizations and universities with which I was affiliated to determine my brand. During my time in graduate school I was comfortable being tagged as “the published academic researcher.” During my years in business I was happy to be considered “the consultant focused on employee development.”

I did not create these brands – I let these brands create me. And, let’s be honest, what is the fun in letting others define who you are and who you will be?

Now that I have finished my graduate education and am not affiliated with an organization, I find myself, rather suddenly, to be brand-less. For the first time in my professional career I have to seriously consider what my brand has been in the past, what it is now, and what I say it will be going forward.

I need to create my brand, and rebuild my career, from the ground up. I am not aiming for perfection here, and I am sure that the process of building my brand will most closely resemble a competitive Jenga game - pieces added one at a time, with some uncertainty, until something resembling a complete structure materializes.

For those of you who think your personal brand is already strong, as I did before I took a closer look, I challenge you to take the following three part test:

1) When your parents rave about your professional accomplishments to their neighbors, are they accurate even half of the time?

2) Ask your friends later at happy hour, can they tell you what your work entails beyond the words “finance” or “marketing”?

3) At cocktail parties, when you get asked for the 100th time what you do for a living, (and, to avoid complete boredom, you are not yet to the point of saying you are an astronaut, rocket scientist, and/or brain surgeon) are you be able to give a clear and precise explanation of what makes you, well, you?

The great thing about being part of a generation that is comprised of wonderfully unique, diverse, and intelligent people is that building a brand should be easier than ever before.

Consider what makes you unique. Do you have a particular interest, background, or hobby? Do you have skills that set you apart, beliefs that make you special, or ideas not often considered by others? If so, these are all Jenga pieces that need to be added to the creation of your personal brand.

In my case, I am working on building my brand. What I do know is that my experiences as a researcher, a consultant, a colleague, and a friend make me uniquely aware of the questions that run circles around the minds of twenty-something’s. I know that as a twenty-something I am skeptical of anyone who claims to have answers to these questions. My hope, therefore, is that as a blogger and a writer I can ask the questions that will lead twenty-something’s to find the answers for themselves.

If you are looking for easy answers, you have come to the wrong place. However, if you are looking for a conversation that may spark an idea that will help you (and maybe me – is that selfish?) create a spot in the world that leads to success on every level, you have an idea of where my personal brand is taking me.

Now that I have shared a bit about what makes me unique, I have to ask, what makes you special?

You know that Aunt Millie and Uncle Earl will be asking the same question in a few weeks over Thanksgiving dinner, so you might as well come up with a reasonable response. Or, just go with the astronaut thing. It gets them every time.

Debbie Downer Celebrates Halloween

What is it with people and Halloween? Not to be Debbie Downer (only people who are about to be Debbie Downer say this…), but I think I am going to pass on celebrating this year.

Yep, I am the one person not looking forward to the holiday that has long padded the pockets of Brach’s employees, the candy corn people, and dentists, the cavity filling folks, everywhere.

You are welcome to try to change my mind about the holiday. I warn you, though, that I am a tough sell.

Describing the Kate Gosselin backwards mullet wig you can’t wait to wear or sharing your idea for a Balloon Boy costume will not drive me to grab the nearest Ed Hardy shirt and join you dressed as Jon.

I guess I am just not sure why everyone is so eager to be someone else. (I know, I am being Debbie Downer, in spite of my promise above). It seems to me that, both in determining a career and carving out a life, people have enough trouble being themselves by acknowledging their positive qualities and copping up to the challenges they face. Why do we need a day to celebrate these disguises?

Here is an idea, instead of dressing up, what about making Halloween a day during which the layers people often hide behind are removed. Make it a day when people expose their good and bad, a day when those less visible characteristics that are often tucked away just beneath the surface are on full display.

For instance, during a number of interviews I have scheduled in the coming weeks, I will dutifully sit in front of HR executives and hiring staff and tell them what they want to hear – how their organization is a perfect fit and how I am certain this is the opportunity that will further my career. However, wouldn’t it be great if, for one day, I could take off the mask that hides my uncertainty and confusion? If I was able to say to those executives that I do not know exactly what I want to do, but I do know that I am capable of doing nearly anything, including this job, and I am hoping this is the position that will challenge me and give me a sense of personal satisfaction. I hope this is it – that I will want to come here, stay here, and be here for the next 5-10 years.

Now there is a hard sell.

We all tend to display the qualities that we believe others want to see. However, to some extent, we are all a bundle of inconsistencies and contradictions. We are stubborn, yet easygoing. We are impatient, yet good under pressure. We are confident, yet insecure. We are strong in our convictions, yet impressionable.

The good stuff - the confidence, the poise, the strong convictions – those are the easy things to show off to the world. But the other parts – the uncertainties, the doubts, the worries - these are the more difficult pieces to acknowledge. Yet only by embracing both sides of our personality can we understand ourselves and consider what career or path through life makes the most sense for our whole self.

That said, maybe I am being Debbie Downer. Maybe Halloween is the occasion to don a mask and to, for one day, forget about trying to figure it out.

Bring on the miniature Hershey bars, Snickers, and Twix. I can already feel the cavities beginning to form.

Bursting The Balloon

I tried not to watch. Really, I did.

Sure, at first I was captivated by the site of the silver flying saucer shooting through the Denver skies.

And then, like most, I felt some anguish after learning that a six-year-old boy may be stuck inside the soaring contraption.

However, as news of the family’s ongoing search for fame and fortune came to light, and the probability that the ordeal was another unfortunate attempt by the parents to be known for something, anything, increased, I felt angry to be watching it all unfold.

I decided that I would not be a part of the media circus. I switched off the television and continued on with my day.

Later that night, however, as much as I tried to stay away from the Balloon Boy, I simply could not find a safe haven. Networks known for delivering the actual news - CNN, ABC, NBC – were showing expanded coverage of the mishap. I understand that a flying saucer is news, but top story news, bigger than the economy and the unemployment rate and the debate over health care reform?

And then Falcon Heene, the balloon boy himself, threw-up numerous times on national television, unable to hold back how sick he was feeling at being the focus of this national frenzy. I have to agree with the upset stomach of the six-year-old, the whole story is enough to make you lose your lunch.

The line between news and entertainment becomes more and more blurred with every Balloon Boy and every update on Jon and Kate and their eight. In spite of the blurring of this line, it remains difficult for me to believe that the place for these guilty pleasures should ever be the nightly news.

What concerns me even more is that children – the next generation - are becoming involved in these situations.

Our generation was among the first to recognize people simply for being famous. The Real World, the Hills, the Housewives of New York, the Bachelor – these shows are all comprised of characters (people?) that have become famous for, well, nothing.

I watch these shows, as so many others do, and I do not believe the hour-long programs will negatively affect our society (other than killing a few brain cells with each viewing). What may impact the future, though, is the fact that the slippery slope we are on in determining what separates shameless entertainment from news is becoming increasingly icier.

Whereas our generation may still be able to, with a bit of searching, find the line that separates voyeuristic entertainment from real life, I wonder if the Heene children and the Gosselin kids will similarly be able to understand the difference between celebrity and achievement, between attention and talent, between being famous and being infamous.

And, even if they are able to understand the difference, I wonder if they will care.

Doing Good Vs. Doing Well

I am positive that over the past week I have done some good. Have I done well? That is up for debate.

Let’s start with the easy part. What makes me so sure that I have done some good?

The first piece of evidence is a response I received to one particular blog posting. You see, it is difficult to gauge just how many people read the blog posts I send out multiple times a week. Sometimes it seems that my parents may be the only ones reading every word and even then only on the days when my mother’s discomfort with Facebook (where I post links to my blog) does not get the best of her.

It was the best kind of surprise, then, when a friend I do not talk with as much as I should, and did not even realize was a follower of my blog, jotted me a note saying that one particular blog entry helped him get through a frustrating day at work (see Cisco-The-Kid and Me, October 8, 2009).

This type of response is why I write the blog – I aim to share my frustrations, realizations, and ideas with others who are in a boat that looks awfully similar to the one I am attempting to sail (or attempting not to sink - depending on how you look at it). My hope is that sharing my ideas can help readers think about their own lives and their own careers in a slightly different way than they did before reading.

To receive confirmation that the blog had served its intended purpose, even for just one person on one day, was enough to validate my efforts. I had done good.

The second piece of evidence is the time I spent volunteering with a non-profit organization called Acing Autism that provides tennis clinics to children with autism. A friend introduced me to the program that he started with his wife, and upon seeing the athletes in action this past weekend, I am certain that there is no better use of my time. Again, I had done good.

There you have it – I blogged in a way that lessened the frustration of a peer and I helped children, who may not otherwise have had the opportunity, to feel what it is like to swing a racket. Even the most skeptical of people would have to admit that I had done good.

Then, at about the time my mother asked, “Are either of these money-making activities?” it hit me. My doing good seems to have come at the cost of my doing well. That is, as my blogging and volunteering flourished, my formal career remained in a bit of a holding pattern with no exciting job prospects in sight.

The question that jumped at me, when confronted with these two pieces of incongruent information, is whether it is possible to do good and to do well.

Does any job or career provide a person with the chance to promote the needs of others while, at the same time, providing him or her the opportunity to receive promotions that include the corner office?

And, if both outcomes cannot be met, is it more important to do good or to do well?

I certainly do not have the answer to this one. Even if I did, I don't think I would share it with the masses. I have done my share of good for this week. It's your turn.


For those interested, further information about Aceing Autism can be found at the following site: http://www.aceingautism.com/.

I am also accepting all donations. (Kidding...sort of)

Forget Monster, Hit the Bar

I am looking for a new job. Is anyone else?

Whether you have been laid off, are beginning to look, want to test the waters, or would rather be doing anything else than your current work, an obvious place to start a job search is on Monster.

I have taken this step. Not only is my resume posted on the site, but I also wake up each morning, open my e-mail, and, over a cup of coffee, review the job matches Monster has compiled just for me. (For those keeping score, the number of jobs Monster has sent me: well over 5,000, the number of positions that were actually a good match: five, the amount of success I have had: zero, the feeling I get on some mornings, after reviewing frustrating and nonsensical matches, that I want to throw my computer out my apartment window: priceless.)

While no promising leads have transpired, I continue to log onto the site daily. On days during which I feel as if I am making little-to-no progress, however, my frustration can reach Homeland Security orange level.

After one such day I decided to set aside my job concerns and meet some friends for a drink. And then it happened - over two glasses of sauvignon blanc I made more meaningful job connections than I had in over 5,000 Monster postings. I felt a bit like I had cheated on Monster.

Why was I so successful? Over the bustling of the crowded bar, I was able to explain why I am passionate about human motivation and performance. I was able to share my enthusiasm and describe my previous work experiences. And, I was able to enjoy a good glass of wine. Unless my memory is failing me, I do not believe Monster has ever ponied up to the bar and offered to buy the next round.

As Gen Y’ers, we have many experiences to share, many interests to describe, and many passions to reveal. These experiences, interests, and passions often do not translate well on paper.

A list of presentations and publications does not describe the feeling of accomplishment I experienced after presenting at my first major conference, or the immense pride I had when a tennis player I coached overcame her self-doubt and self-imposed limits to be successful, or the look of appreciation on the faces of those friends and colleagues I have come across who have read my blog and feel a sense of connection to my ideas.

The world has become a tangled web of tweets and status updates. While these tools are useful, I still believe there is no substitute for going out, looking someone in the eye, and telling them what you love to do.

As for my job search, like a dutiful partner I went back to Monster the next morning and I continue to review my job matches daily. That said, I am pretty sure I will cheat again next week. Anyone up for a drink?

Cisco-The-Kid and Me

For those traumatized by the ending of the movie Marley and Me, I can assure you that no horses were harmed in the making of this blog. As for me, I incurred only minor bumps and bruises.

During a trip this past weekend to Vermont to take a hike, to see some foliage, and to get away from the general running-to-get-nowhere pace of city life, my mother and I decided to give horseback riding a try. I made reservations for two at Gentle Giants (This is really the name of the stable. If the stable had been called Ruthless Beasts, I would have thought twice about the adventure, but with a name like Gentle Giants…)

Upon arriving at the stable, we met our guide. A rugged man in his sixties, he assured me that he had been taking beginners out on these trails for over twenty years. More importantly, he seemed to say he brought them all back as well.

I became mildly concerned when the guide informed me that he had handpicked Suzy Q, the oldest and calmest horse in the stable, for my mother. Who did that leave for me?

My question was answered when Cisco-the-kid, a grayish-black horse with a flowing mane, came prancing out of his stall. I quickly attempted to befriend the animal. It felt like I was in the early stages of a first date, trying to make some connection with the creature across from me with the hopes that things would go decently well over the course of the next hour.

We started out on the trail, me and Cisco, and the vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds and the sound of the flowing stream made me forget about my concerns. That is, until the guide informed me and my mother that we would be crossing the river at the feet of our horses. It is at this moment that I became aware of Cisco’s dislike for water. And since I prefer not to be dropped in the water, I quickly adopted Cisco’s aversion to streams, rivers, and any other form of minor tributaries.

With a bit of cajoling, Cisco did make it across a number of small bodies of water and things were going smoothly until we reached the last river, the one that separated me and Cisco from our safe return to the stable.

About halfway through the thirty foot crossing, Cisco decided that he had enough. Midstream, with a bed of jagged rocks at my feet and a horse that would rather not continue beneath me, I was in a bit of a jam. I gently applied some pressure to Cisco’s sides, begging him to continue. Cisco’s lack of movement made it clear that he would rather not go on – and so we waited.

Cisco had been working hard for 45 minutes and he wanted a moment to take in the scenery. I loosened the harness so that Cisco could reach the running water. He took a long drink and paused in order to get a good look around.

And then, not thanks to anything I did, Cisco and I were off again, on our way back to the stable.

Despite my initial fear of being tossed in the drink, Cisco was right to take a minute to rest. We move too fast everyday, far too infrequently taking the time to really look around and take in the sites.

If you are in a job or between jobs or considering a job change, day-to-day stress can prevent you from taking a minute to stop, to take a look around, and to take a long drink of water. Meeting deadlines and closing deals are necessary parts of life, but it is the big picture that makes the most important things in life clear. We are all very fortunate, each for our own reasons and each in our own ways. Often, however, the speed of life makes it difficult to find the time to consider, and to give thanks for, our many good fortunes.

Take a minute for yourself today. Go grab a drink of water. Cisco chose the river as his source of replenishment, but I hear the water cooler works just as well.