I got "the call" about the perfect job on Friday. I can almost recite it by heart. The words vary little; the tone varies not at all. There's some small talk, during which time my heart is sinking because I know the drill, then it goes something like this: "We were so impressed by your qualifications, and you were a close second, but we chose someone who was a closer match."
Though I am a bit hardened to the whole process, I have to admit that I cried about this one. It was the right environment, a match for core values, and in perfect alignment with my skill set. I sent three excellent letters of reference, unsolicited, that said I'd be great in the job. I explained how I would fit in and do excellent work. I showed my genuine enthusiasm for the job, the boss, and the company over and over. And still it wasn't enough.
There are hundreds of applicants for most jobs, and dozens of them are a really good fit--this I know from talking to colleagues who consult in the hiring process and from the many times I've been told same by the hiring manager/committee. But I think what was so disillusioning about this particular "no" was that the person who did the hiring explained that the process took so long because they got so many good candidates due to unemployment being so high and the economy being so bad.
Whoa, whoa, whoa--wait a minute! What about the people who genuinely WANT to work there? Who think they'd make an amazing difference? Who would be thrilled to come to work every day because it's such a great fit for skills and values? Who would spend the commute time to Aurora plotting ways to make the organization even more fantastic? Surely I wasn't the only one. I hope the one who got the job is in the latter camp.
Showing posts with label job search. Show all posts
Showing posts with label job search. Show all posts
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Keep Your Chin Up
People marvel at my ability to stay positive in the face of the continued rejection that is a normal part of the job search. "What are my options?" I always ask. To wallow in self-pity? To despair? To externalize it and blame it on others? None of those sound very appealing to me. And those qualities certainly aren't very appealing to potential employers.
The last set of interviews was so strange that I had to keep telling myself to keep my chin up, though. First, I wrote the engaging cover letter and convincing resume that showed how my skills matched their needs. Passed that hurdle. They checked my references before even offering an interview. Passed that hurdle. Got an interview.
The first interview was with nine people and was a "you have twenty minutes to answer these questions" scenario. They didn't interact. They took detailed notes the entire time. I, on the other hand, was on it. I was charming. I was smart. I was well spoken.
This was immediately followed by a twenty-minute timed written test. I proved my ability to think on my feet; use technology; assess the need for, develop, and implement an educational program; and write persuasive marketing collateral. I was on it. I knew the material. Writing is one of my many well-honed skills. I work well under pressure. Passed those hurdles. Got the second interview.
OK, I thought, now they'll loosen up and have an actual conversation. Nope. No mention of the previous interview or anything that came before. The second interview was a "you have thirty minutes to answer these questions" scenario. No opportunity for me to ask questions or have a dialogue. At all. Their noses were buried in their papers the entire time. They barely nodded their heads to acknowledge I had spoken before moving on to the next question. I was not as smart or charming or well spoken as before.
Today I got the "no thanks" notice. I was disappointed. And I was relieved. An organization that has no room for conversation or interaction when deciding on the future leader of their organization doesn't have room for me.
The last set of interviews was so strange that I had to keep telling myself to keep my chin up, though. First, I wrote the engaging cover letter and convincing resume that showed how my skills matched their needs. Passed that hurdle. They checked my references before even offering an interview. Passed that hurdle. Got an interview.
The first interview was with nine people and was a "you have twenty minutes to answer these questions" scenario. They didn't interact. They took detailed notes the entire time. I, on the other hand, was on it. I was charming. I was smart. I was well spoken.
This was immediately followed by a twenty-minute timed written test. I proved my ability to think on my feet; use technology; assess the need for, develop, and implement an educational program; and write persuasive marketing collateral. I was on it. I knew the material. Writing is one of my many well-honed skills. I work well under pressure. Passed those hurdles. Got the second interview.
OK, I thought, now they'll loosen up and have an actual conversation. Nope. No mention of the previous interview or anything that came before. The second interview was a "you have thirty minutes to answer these questions" scenario. No opportunity for me to ask questions or have a dialogue. At all. Their noses were buried in their papers the entire time. They barely nodded their heads to acknowledge I had spoken before moving on to the next question. I was not as smart or charming or well spoken as before.
Today I got the "no thanks" notice. I was disappointed. And I was relieved. An organization that has no room for conversation or interaction when deciding on the future leader of their organization doesn't have room for me.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
That's Ms. CPA to You
A colleague I worked with always made me laugh by calling me Ms. CPA, which was a play on my credentials: MS, CPA. Recently a consultant I hired to give me advice about my job search suggested that perhaps my identification with my credentials is getting in my way. Why? Because it calls to mind the image of... I'll let you fill in the blank. What do you think of when you think "Certified Public Accountant"? Exactly. And that isn't me.
I didn't go down the path of the CPA who pays her dues at the public accounting firm, which is what you're supposed to do. (This was an early clue that I was not destined to fit in anyone's mold.) It just seemed, well, mundane and boring. Plus I knew exactly one woman who had made it big in public accounting, and she paid for it with a divorce and missing her kids' childhood. Now there's a ringing endorsement.
I'm nontraditional and anti-establishment in many ways. I was never a "public accountant." So why do I keep my license up to date? Why do I readily tell new networking contacts that I'm a CPA and forget to mention other important facets of my professional life (e.g., I'm an adjunct faculty member at DU, I volunteer at three different organizations, I own three businesses)?
Because I'm an ESTJ. Because I can process data and its relationship to the big picture faster than most people. Because I love numbers and the story they tell. Because I enjoy telling that story to other people. Because CPAs follow a code of ethics I believe in.
It's hard for people to reconcile my outgoing and friendly nature with the fact that I'm a CPA, and that's why my consultant recommended that I de-emphasize my financial background during the job search. She said that people want a CEO who is, above all, charming, and I throw them off with the financial credentials. I've followed her advice, and we'll see how it pans out.
But in the end, I'll always be Ms. CPA to you.
I didn't go down the path of the CPA who pays her dues at the public accounting firm, which is what you're supposed to do. (This was an early clue that I was not destined to fit in anyone's mold.) It just seemed, well, mundane and boring. Plus I knew exactly one woman who had made it big in public accounting, and she paid for it with a divorce and missing her kids' childhood. Now there's a ringing endorsement.
I'm nontraditional and anti-establishment in many ways. I was never a "public accountant." So why do I keep my license up to date? Why do I readily tell new networking contacts that I'm a CPA and forget to mention other important facets of my professional life (e.g., I'm an adjunct faculty member at DU, I volunteer at three different organizations, I own three businesses)?
Because I'm an ESTJ. Because I can process data and its relationship to the big picture faster than most people. Because I love numbers and the story they tell. Because I enjoy telling that story to other people. Because CPAs follow a code of ethics I believe in.
It's hard for people to reconcile my outgoing and friendly nature with the fact that I'm a CPA, and that's why my consultant recommended that I de-emphasize my financial background during the job search. She said that people want a CEO who is, above all, charming, and I throw them off with the financial credentials. I've followed her advice, and we'll see how it pans out.
But in the end, I'll always be Ms. CPA to you.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Power Shift
Yesterday I got an email saying that the interview team associated with a job I applied for was "uniformly impressed by your experience and accomplishments," but I did not get the job. And neither did the other two second-round candidates. The interview team is starting over in their search process.
My initial reaction was that I couldn't possibly give up--if I wrote something compelling enough, they'd see just how passionate and smart I was and reconsider. I wrote a long email that discussed the flaws inherent in the traditional interview process and recounted all the ways the interview team had said I was a fit for the position. But I didn't click send. Thankfully. I called to talk a friend, who is also a life coach, about nonprofit issues and ended up telling her about said email.
The conversation went something like this:
Her: It sounds like you're really attached to this.
Me: YES! Even if I don't get the job, I don't want them to repeat the same process and end up in the same place.
Her: What are you going to get out of telling them they're wrong?
Me: Hmm... probably not a whole lot.
Her: What is the likelihood that they'll reconsider you as a candidate or change their hiring process?
Me: Practically nonexistent.
Her: So is that really what you want to do?
Me: No. It's not a very gracious way to end the relationship.
With a few well chosen words and questions, Laurie helped me realize that my need to be right was going to cause me to give away my power and make me look like an idiot. I deleted the entire email except the part that said thank you and good luck. My power returned. My positive energy returned.
Effective coaching packs one heck of a wallop--I had a complete change of perspective in under two minutes. Wow.
My initial reaction was that I couldn't possibly give up--if I wrote something compelling enough, they'd see just how passionate and smart I was and reconsider. I wrote a long email that discussed the flaws inherent in the traditional interview process and recounted all the ways the interview team had said I was a fit for the position. But I didn't click send. Thankfully. I called to talk a friend, who is also a life coach, about nonprofit issues and ended up telling her about said email.
The conversation went something like this:
Her: It sounds like you're really attached to this.
Me: YES! Even if I don't get the job, I don't want them to repeat the same process and end up in the same place.
Her: What are you going to get out of telling them they're wrong?
Me: Hmm... probably not a whole lot.
Her: What is the likelihood that they'll reconsider you as a candidate or change their hiring process?
Me: Practically nonexistent.
Her: So is that really what you want to do?
Me: No. It's not a very gracious way to end the relationship.
With a few well chosen words and questions, Laurie helped me realize that my need to be right was going to cause me to give away my power and make me look like an idiot. I deleted the entire email except the part that said thank you and good luck. My power returned. My positive energy returned.
Effective coaching packs one heck of a wallop--I had a complete change of perspective in under two minutes. Wow.
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