tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28826754486903372942024-03-14T02:34:10.397-04:00Adventures of a Business MajorCost-efficiently navigating the tech scene.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-47431322081515641662014-02-27T11:30:00.000-05:002014-02-27T11:30:01.243-05:00Seven Keywords from Social Media Week NYC 2014This past week, I attended <a href="http://socialmediaweek.org/newyork" target="_blank">Social Media Week</a> here in New York City, at my company's sponsorship, and it was definitely an incredible experience. SMW has been held in NYC for the last six years, and I've attended the last three. Every year, I make some incredible connections, learn a heckuva lot, and <a href="http://storify.com/AarthiD/smwnyc-2014">came away with some great ideas and quotes</a> that I intend to use. <br />
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The biggest change this year was them having a single, centralized location for the majority of the events. A single staging ground, combined with the volunteers actively clearing the room after each session, made this conference a lot more tolerable than it has been in years before. In addition, I no longer work in Financial District and have to "commute" to Flatiron; the stage was in this CRAZY out of the way location (over by Chelsea Market, at 15th and 9th Ave) but I work in Flatiron now, so getting to the convention center was a matter of two trains and walking a good block and a half. Basically: it wasn't too bad. <br />
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It was also the largest Social Media Week I've ever seen. Talk after talk was filled to standing-room-only, and nearly every masterclass was filled to capacity. Most of the panels and talks were also streamed by LiveStream, and the videos continue to remain in perpetuate, linked from the individual event pages. I attended about half of my planned events digitally and half physically, and the experience for both was comparable. We live in the future, and it's basically amazing.<br />
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I often have found that Social Media Week tends to talk to large agencies and PR firms more than startups and smaller houses. That was not the case this year; there's a convergence happening in media, and large agencies have begun pushing towards representing themselves the way startups do, or at least engaging their users and fans in ways more in tune with new media entities (e.g. Buzzfeed, whose name was <em>all over</em> this year's SMW) and their strategies. Mercifully, "millennials" was a seldom-used word. <br />
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<a name='more'></a> <h3>Like a Record, Right Round</h3><br />
In panel after panel, talk after talk, and class after class, I kept hearing the same seven words being used, and in the same way. When I say that agency and startups are converging, I mean that the primary strategy being employed and advocated by both realms is increasingly moving towards the same ideals. It reflects a greater transparency in the market, and a broader understanding of consumers today.<br />
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More importantly, there was a greater emphasis on community, on leveraging crowds of people who are <em>already</em> passionate about your product to create and drive value for your brand and your company. <br />
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The following seven words capture the most important lessons across channels and organization sizes. They cover ideas that were reiterated by agencies, startups, new media, old media, and purely-social players over and over, and seem to reflect the point towards which the "Web 2.0" wave is headed. <br />
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<h4>Listen</h4><br />
<blockquote>"The easiest way to lose your audience is to not engage with them on what they're talking about." -- Jim Roberts, Mashable.</blockquote><br />
Every media person at SMW this year was advocating for listening -- more notably, listening to users and digesting the conversations fully. Gross metaphors aside, this is novel compared to even just two years ago, when social was being leveraged as another, more personal broadcast medium. Indeed, it seems like a number of brands have been (and continue to be) using sponsored posts on Tumblr or promoted tweets on Twitter to spray and pray. <br />
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There's a clear movement away from this, one that I think has been gestating since roughly this time last year, however, to large brands listening and listening <em>attentively and thoughtfully</em> to what their consumers are telling them, as well as what the group they wish to target is like. <br />
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My <a href="http://partners.yext.com/community/forums/topic/smw-2014-engaging-subcultures/" target="_blank">first write-up</a> about Social Media Week was about a Masterclass I attended about engaging subcultures. The hosts, <a href="http://www.codeandtheory.com/" target="_blank">Code and Theory</a>, discussed how brands can break into subcultures. The primary starting point, they emphasized, was <em>listening</em>. Doing your due diligence ahead of time can pay off in spades, and not doing it can be irreparably damaging. Embracing a subculture means learning about that community's norms and means. You can't do that if you just talk all over them. Moreover, a subculture that's already using your product will provide you with excellent, focus-group-style feedback about where your product has inadequacies. <strong>If you can make their user experience even 1% better, you're already delivering value to the consumer.</strong> Those improvements can only be made if you listen -- both literally and metaphorically. <br />
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<blockquote>"You have to listen [to your audience] in the right way. Data can be dangerous. [...] Most people worry their actual users are idiots, because the data always seems to point to that." --Eli Pariser, Upworthy.</blockquote><br />
A key point of listening is also not getting buried in data. There's a lot of ways to track how your users are utilizing your product, and testing can reveal a great deal about your users' responses to design and functionality changes. However, data can also be overwhelming. Listening to users directly, in smaller aggregates, can be more manageable as well as meaningful. You can't do this with data alone; communities provide the structure and space for feedback of this type. <br />
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In addition, interacting with your users in this manner will lead you to see nuances in your audience -- nuances that would otherwise get filtered out. Aggregate data will always lack the granularity you need if your product is cross-functional. Looking at your userbase as a mass of screens is the wrong approach, one that was panned repeatedly.<br />
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<h4>Organic</h4><br />
<blockquote><p><strong>Jonathan Perelman:</strong> Are we trying to force the "perfect thing at the right time in the right place" too much?</p><p><strong>Mohan Renganathan:</strong> I think so. I think, however, the key is picking the moments: it's not <em>every single time</em> something notable happens. It's gotta be connected to some aspect of the consumer, the brand, and how they come together.</p></blockquote><br />
I attended this year's SUXORZ panel, an annual event hosted by BlogAds that I love going to. Why? Because it showcases the biggest "whoops" moments in social media. It serves as a masterclass in, "Never, ever do this -- <em>ever</em>." SUXORZ demonstrated some of what the above quote is hinting at: that you can't engineer the moment, and you can't insert yourself into any moment willy-nilly. Take the following social media gaffes, which were all featured last week, and you can understand why "organic" was the word of the week:<br />
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<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/J1sfjln.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/J1sfjln.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/MWxTJhU.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/MWxTJhU.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/1YHkmkh.png"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/1YHkmkh.png" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
Co-opting current events to draw attention to your brand almost always backfires. Go through the process organically; honor heroes, highlight relevant stories, and make choice that are both true to the integrity of the organization as well as to the voice of the brand. Which segues nicely into the next point.<br />
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<h4>Authentic</h4><br />
<blockquote>Know what your brand is and what it stands for. -- Code and Theory</blockquote><br />
You've got to be true to the brand, and to the voice that you curate for it. More personally, don't put on a personality when representing either yourself or the brand. Moreover, don't "fake" the attitude of your audience; either <em>be</em> that person or find a voice that appeals to them without necessarily creating an echo chamber. <br />
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Code and Theory pointed out that communities like Reddit have a low tolerance for manipulation and for brands playing games. As with any close-knit, bonded community (i.e. a valuable community), they are sensitive to "outsiders" coming in and appearing to take over as the primary voice. Communities like these don't take kindly to brands attempting to own or overpower the conversation, and attempts to do so will be met with backlash.<br />
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But it's not just the overt actions you take as a brand that matter; how you interact with your base on a day-to-day level matters. Comedy Central's Don Steele noted in a panel discussion with other Viacom social media managers that the best metric of success for them is seeing the conversation continue even when the franchise they're pushing isn't airing new content. This means keeping conversations going even when attention isn't focused on you or your product. It also means taking into account the previous section: keeping the conversation going, while staying true to your brand, means sparking <em>organic</em> conversations and perpetuating <em>organic, productive</em> discussions around your product, franchise, or offering. <br />
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<blockquote>Even for the perfect 30-second spot, there won't be that much socially-relevant branded chatter, and <em>that's okay</em>. If you try to chase that [kind of metric], you'll just be following a red-herring." -- Mohan Renganathan</blockquote><br />
Renganathan pointed out in his talk, also, that authenticity means capitalizing on a moment without looking like you're pushing your own agenda too intensely. The example he gave was how Arby's, instead of fighting the jokes about how Pharrel Williams's hat from the Grammy's resembled their logo, instead bought into the joke.<br />
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p>We're up all night to get roast beef <a href="https://twitter.com/Pharrell">@Pharrell</a> <a href="http://t.co/eg5Yrar6XJ">pic.twitter.com/eg5Yrar6XJ</a></p>— Alexei Saba (@sabzi) <a href="https://twitter.com/sabzi/statuses/427594583858376704">January 27, 2014</a></blockquote><script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script><br />
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p>Hey <a href="https://twitter.com/Pharrell">@Pharrell</a>, can we have our hat back? <a href="https://twitter.com/search?q=%23GRAMMYs&src=hash">#GRAMMYs</a></p>— Arby's (@Arbys) <a href="https://twitter.com/Arbys/statuses/427614008946855936">January 27, 2014</a></blockquote><script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script><br />
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-conversation="none" lang="en"><p>Y'all tryna start a roast beef? đđ "<a href="https://twitter.com/Arbys">@Arbys</a>: Hey <a href="https://twitter.com/Pharrell">@Pharrell</a>, can we have our hat back? <a href="https://twitter.com/search?q=%23GRAMMYs&src=hash">#GRAMMYs</a>â</p>— Pharrell Williams (@Pharrell) <a href="https://twitter.com/Pharrell/statuses/427733647081209856">January 27, 2014</a></blockquote><script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script><br />
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<h4>Local</h4><br />
<blockquote>"We <em>expect</em> localization in mobile, so content has to create utility around those expectations." -- Liz Heron, WSJ.</blockquote><br />
There's an <a href="http://blogs.hbr.org/2013/05/the-rise-of-the-mobile-only-us/" target="_blank">increasing dependence on mobile devices</a> in how we access and interact with the internet. Some of this is convenience -- it's far easier to check email on a phone than stopping to open up a laptop, for example -- and some of this is necessity; many developing nations have more robust mobile networks than high-speed internet, and low-income residents in the US are more likely to have smartphones than laptops with internet access. <br />
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As this trend has continued, we've come to see more and more localization across the board. The advent of Web 2.0 technologies -- where users become empowered to create and adapt products to their own use, or "talk back" to the screen in some way -- means that when we went from low-scale-high-meaning (pre-Industrial Revolution) to high-scale-low-meaning (mass production), we swung too far in both extremes. Localization is pushing us towards a more central point in that continuum: modest scale, median meaning. <br />
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There was a lot of talk about the impact of this in marketing and social. Most notably, a multi-part seminar on the collaborative economy touched on the idea of local as leverage without explicitly mentioning it. When Marcelo Loureiro talked about risk management in a collaborative economy, he mentioned how face-to-face interaction lowered barriers to entry, encouraging people to share their bikes and other personal property. This interaction is <em>inherently local</em> and doesn't "scale" to anything resembling a national level. It's a purely regional construction, but it is <em>no less powerful</em> for it. Sometimes <a href="http://firstround.com/article/My-Management-Lessons-from-Three-Failed-Startups-Google-Apple-Dropbox-Twitter-and-Square" target="_blank">scale is the enemy</a>, especially if what you're doing is inherently <em>human</em>. <br />
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<blockquote>"People are local." -- Howard Lerman, CEO of Yext.</blockquote><br />
<h4>People</h4><br />
<blockquote>"We have to ask ourselves, 'Would I share this myself?' [...] [As marketers, we are] trying to reach people, and people aren't silos." -- Jonathan Perelman, VP at Buzzfeed. </blockquote><br />
There was an underlying, consistent message that we not forget the humanity of the people we're trying to reach. When asked about encouraging adoption or advocacy of the brand, the response was consistent across speakers: appeals to the <em>human being</em> on the other side of the screen, not to their user behavior. <br />
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Eli Pariser of Upworthy perhaps spoke most at length about this, though Perelman (quoted above) was emphatic about tapping into the humanity of our users as well. People share things because they're emotionally moved by it, or it reflects some portion of their self-image -- that's it. Both of those reasons go back to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Modes_of_persuasion" target="_blank">Aristotle's writings</a> on how <em>persuasion</em> happens on one of three levels. Ultimately, sharing is a big ask, so getting people to share requires a certain amount of persuasion. <br />
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To that end, if we want to overcome the barrier to sharing, we have to make it worth the audience's while. That means giving them moments of true emotion -- delight, sadness, rage, etc. -- or appeal to their aspirational selves, to their image of who the best version of themselves is. That's the hard-hitting journalism, the work from top-tier sources like HBR or WSJ or The Economist or an academic journal accidentally stumbled across. The content has to be varied, speaking to one or both versions of that self, while still remaining true to the brand voice. <br />
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<blockquote>"What constitutes a media brand? [...] Individuals build audiences and followings on their own [these days]." -- Chia Chen, Digitas.</blockquote><br />
<h4>Empower</h4><br />
<blockquote>"Fandom becomes the biggest advocates for what you are -- our job as marketers is to take the content and give people recognition and a little shine. It's not just precious to television." -- Tom Chirico, VP of Digital and Social Engagement at VH1</blockquote><br />
Making your community of fans -- whether they be die-hard fans of your TV show, or loyal customers of your product/service -- into advocates is a delicate balance of showcasing, shout-outs, and support. Empowering people means showing them that you -- that your brand or corporate or even just your social team -- cares about them in some meaningful way. It means surprising and delighting your customers in ways they won't expect, and <em>each of them</em> feel special without it seeming manipulative or false. <br />
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It's a pretty tall order!<br />
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The way to do this is to build upon the other pieces that I mentioned before: be authentic, either to your own voice or to your brand's; be people-focused, relating to users on a deeply human level by interacting with them beyond just the moments when they mention you/your product; try to bring them content or media that's immediately relevant to them or their interests, even if those extend beyond your own primary brand; start and continue conversations in a natural way, rather than cyber-stalking your top fans/detractors and keeping an watchful eye on them; stay true to your voice. <br />
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Look at how Taco Bell relates to its super-fans:<br />
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p>OMG <a href="https://twitter.com/TacoBell">@TacoBell</a> IM CRYING THANK YOU OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS HOLY COW JUICE IM SO HAPPY <a href="http://t.co/gebVYU7MLc">pic.twitter.com/gebVYU7MLc</a></p>— Acacia Brinley (@AcaciaBrinley) <a href="https://twitter.com/AcaciaBrinley/statuses/335239874498154496">May 17, 2013</a></blockquote><script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script><br />
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<a href="http://imgur.com/gallery/swTH5"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/psFcWkR.png" height="400px" /> <img src="http://i.imgur.com/q5X0lEY.jpg" height="400px" /></a><br />
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Users who fall in love with their brands become the strongest, more powerful advocates because their admiration is <em>genuine</em>. Finding a way to empower that relationship is a little bit "special sauce" and fairy dust, but the initial investment can yield extensive payoffs long-term. <br />
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<blockquote>"Fandom is not a 'one-night stand' -- it's a long-term relationship. Long-term relationships are fundamentally dependent upon listening. [...] You have to learn what makes the other person tick." -- Tom Fishman, VP of Content Marketing and Social Media at MTV.</blockquote><br />
<h4>Community</h4><br />
<blockquote>"If you're a brand that has good core values [...] then your corporate social approach is going to reflect that." -- Mohan Renganathan</blockquote><br />
Everything boiled down to community. Beyond simply the wisdom of crowds, the underlying message is that an empowered, connected, legitimized group of individuals, either in an analog space or digitally, can be both massively valuable and drive a significant amount of revenue. Communities are the crux of what every marketing agent, every startup, every social media maven was working towards: finding relevant communities, coaxing nascent communities to an inflection point, and/or leveraging a mass of people to act as spokespeople. <br />
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At the end of the day, it's just as the Content and Distribution panel was titled: Content is King, but Distribution is Queen, and "She wears the pants," as Jonathan Perelman put it. The two survive <em>together</em>, and are deeply intertwined. Bad content gets distributed, but for radically different reasons than good content. Similarly, there's a badness threshold; content that's bad but not <em>entertaining</em> will simply languish. As Eli Pariser put it, "It is impossible to 'go viral' if people don't love what you're posting." They might love it <em>because</em> it's unabashedly terrible, but they love it all the same. <br />
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To that end, communities serve as gatekeepers and a full-scale in-house sharing team, but without the sense that this is all purely self-serving for the company. Communities also leverage the potential of groups; every single one of us can't do the entire project, but we can all add 1% to the whole. This is the very philosophy that built Wikipedia, and the sense that the efforts of the many can create the whole -- literally central to modern business -- was pervasive.<br />
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<h3>There and Back Again</h3><br />
Social Media Week has been an incredible experience for me, year after year, and I'm most moved by how the conversation has changed. I've literally watched as the conversation about social, about content, about messaging has moved from a purely broadcast model to one that really advocates listening to the customers and hearing what they have to say, and then responding to that feedback in a thoughtful, genuine way. I'm hoping that the purely-broadcast model is dead for good, and that we'll continue to see more and more a social media space that resembles who we are as a whole: a diverse patchwork of self-selected communities, each of us adding to the tapestry that is the Internet. <br />
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Hokey last lines aside, the seven keywords from this year's social media week make me excited to see what 2014 holds in store for us in marketing, community management, digital media, and whatever Web 2.5 or Web 3.0 ends up becoming. If you're developing "the next killer app," take note!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-21438317228826548272013-09-17T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-17T12:00:03.972-04:00Itâs a Hard Knock LyfeSo as 2013 stumbles along, I've been doing a lot of self-reflection and collating my experiences into meaningful pieces of advice I can pass on to others. This entry is basically the result of that. <br />
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Full disclosure: I've written this entry multiple times because Real Life keeps happening to me thus the "top five" keep shifting. I'm posting this entry at last because some of these things have stayed constant enough, and because I'm happy enough with this list to let this go. In fact...<br />
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<b>1. Good enough is probably perfect.</b><br />
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This is something I think anyone whose job has even a modicum of creative process associated with it ends up running into. I know I'm a pretty detail-oriented person and I want something done <i>right</i> as much as I want it completed. Alas, life isn't always about what <i>you</i> want. If something needs to be done, it needs to be <i>done</i> and often on someone else's schedule.<br />
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At some point, you have to stop agonizing and analyzing and editing whatever you've created -- code, prose, whatever -- and send it out there into the world. Chances are if, in the moment, you were "happy enough" with it, you'll be exceedingly happy with it later on. You might even surprise your later self with how clever Past You was! <br />
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I'll give an example: when I reread short stories and blog posts I wrote a couple months ago, I'm always stunned by how good some are. Whether it's the understated beauty of a Captain America fanfic, or the turn of phrase I used to describe a situation proving to be particularly inspired, it's amazing how satisfied I am with my own work once I manage to gain some perspective with time.<br />
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I think we tend to expect 100% in the moment, searching for the perfect syntax in every single line. The problem is, 75% acceptable (the "good enough" line, in my mind) is often 100% acceptable outside of the deeply stressful immediate situation. <br />
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Be more acutely aware of when the diminishing marginal return thresholds gets inefficient, and pull back. Or, in layman's terms: stop when it's "good enough" -- you can edit later.<br />
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<b>2. Life is a series of Iron Triangles.</b><br />
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I remember taking an Operations Management class back in university that introduced the idea of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_management_triangle">iron triangle</a> to me. In brief: in production, you can control Cost of Production, Quality of the Product, and Time to Produce. However, you can't optimize for all three at once; you only get two. <br />
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<center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/DWs22tO.png" /></center><br />
Real Life is pretty crummy; you <i>always</i> only get two. I know for me, my triangle was: Work, Gym, Leisure Time (Friends, Crafts projects, Blogging). Some days it was Work, Social Life, Sleep. Some weeks it was Work, Work, Gym. Either way, the tradeoff game is in full force. If I wanted to be able to pay rent as well as be fit, I just didn't have time for Leisure activities. I remember I went <i>weeks</i> without seeing friends before I realized what was happening. I also remember not working out at all in the week leading up to a <a href="http://fanlore.org/wiki/Big_Bang">Big Bang</a> deadline. <br />
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Still, one of the things that I remember being crazy hard to adjust to was work literally taking up half or more of my waking hours. That freedom I had for four years, through university, was gone. No longer did homework and class total less than half my waking hours, with the rest devoted to personal pursuits -- or, even more lamentably, no longer could I enjoy weekly 3-day weekends; while Real Life really doesnât have homework, thereâs always a to-do list, one that never seems to shrink properly, and 3-day weekends are a pipedream at best. <br />
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Itâs also an attitude shift; I know Iâve <a href="http://blog.aarthid.me/2013/06/summer-in-city-avoiding-isolation.html">blogged about this before</a>, but New York is a city thatâll make introverts of even the most extroverted people. Thereâs simply too much going on all the time, and too many people forced to vie for the same air and space and resources. At least, on my university campus, that was not the case; Indiana is a sprawling, spacious campus in the countryside. Environmental factors change your triangleâs composition by changing your incentives; if you find yourself less and less able to deal with other people in your free time, youâre less likely to choose that corner of the triangle as a non-negotiable. <br />
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If you want a better work/life balance, youâre going to have to draw out your triangle (or pentagon or whatever crazy shape/graph you pick) and ask yourself whatâs non-negotiable, and where is the trade-off line. For me, I gave myself 3 days a week to pick "leisure" over "gym" -- whether that was drinks or knitting-and-movie nights, or simply sleeping early. Visualizing my waking hours this way helped me better understand where my time was going and why. It also helped me identify where my motivations fell and if that was something I was ok with. <br />
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<b>3. Say âyesâ smarter.</b><br />
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I remember being an overextended undergrad and having various mentors and student leaders warn me against saying no too infrequently. At the same time, I remember my professors and mentors urging me to find/make opportunities that I should say YES to. Sometimes these are obvious moments (your Fearless Leader asks you directly to step up and into a role youâre confident youâre ready for) but other timesâŚ.not so much. Timing really is everything, Iâve learned: from asking for a raise to asking for a date, timing makes a huge difference in the outcome. <br />
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Saying yes smarter means not <i>always</i> saying yes but not always saying <i>no</i> either. It means letting your default response be the improviserâs standard, "Yes, and...." but also recognizing that a negative response isnât the end of the world. I know that the moments in my life I regretted most were the ones where I said NO too soon. I should have said yes more often, and allowed myself to explore and adventure and grow. And, by contrast, saying YES even when the situation was vaguely terrifying led to some really amazing opportunities for me: I moved to New York, I became a Community Manager, I got WinterBash, I delivered a speech to a room of a thousand female engineers in India. <br />
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A good friend of mine once told me, "Anything that scares you is worth doing." Which leads into my next point:<br />
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<b>4. Bravery is its own reward.</b><br />
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I lost sight of this somewhere between college and Real Life, but itâs a life lesson thatâs reared its ugly head repeatedly, which probably means I need to shut up and pay attention. <br />
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Bravery comes in a lot of different forms, whether itâs the aforementioned asking for a raise, asking for a date, or even simply asking for <i>respect</i>. Bravery means doing the right thing even when itâs hard -- <i>especially</i> when itâs hard! -- because itâs the right thing to do. Bravery means speaking your mind even when itâs costly, either because of the fallout from what you have to say or because youâre naturally shy. Bravery means taking a hard look at yourself and seeing the flaws but also seeing the gifts. Bravery means recognizing weakness and strength in both yourself and others. <br />
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Bravery means walking into the unknown and not losing sight of your purpose. Itâs willingly stepping off the edge of the (metaphorical) cliff and trusting the landing wonât be an onomatopoeia bubble from a comic book. <br />
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Why is bravery important? Lots of reasons. Beyond the usual "fortune favors the bold" platitudes, bravery means living life on <i>your</i> terms. Without regrets. Iâve <a href="http://blog.aarthid.me/2013/06/25-x-25-goal-setting-bucket-list.html">mentioned elsewhere</a> that I can see major changes in my life coming my way. Itâs put a lot of things in perspective for me, not the least of which being: regret is useless. Iâd rather have closure -- or at least <i>exposure</i>, especially of the truth -- rather than regret. Iâd rather be blunt and plainspoken and straightforward, because playing games and avoidance never did me any favors in the past. Iâd rather take a leap than allow myself to drown in apathy. <br />
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Regret does no one any good. Life is for <i>living</i>, and being brave makes that possible. Sure, taking the risks means the immediate pain is sharper and more intense, but it passes so much faster. <br />
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So many people have no capacity to be brave, because to be so means truly <i>owning</i> who you are and what you have to offer. I think a lot of us are scared, and thatâs ok! Fear is natural and important. But fear canât be the driving force of your life. You have to make decisions, you have to walk the path you choose for yourself. Why fill that path with "What if" questions? Fill it with "I did" statements, instead. <br />
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Finally: when youâre brave, you have nothing to apologize for when so-called "haters" come at you. There is no shame in living life on <i>your</i> terms. <br />
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<b>5. Always trust your instincts.</b><br />
<br />
If youâve never been led astray by your (metaphorical or literal) gut before, donât stop listening to it when things get tough. Intuition goes a long way, and the human mind is an amazingly complex instrument. If your instincts are saying XYZ but all your advisors are saying P, Q, or R, listen closely to your instincts. Itâs possible youâre seeing more than you consciously realize: body language, silenced conversations, expressions on peoplesâ faces, gestures. <br />
<br />
I spent months second-guessing all of my instincts at every turn, and with 20/20 hindsight I saw that Iâd missed opportunities by not trusting myself. My insecurities manifested in a deep mistrust of the very things that had gotten me so far. I should have been braver (hence the former point) and silenced the rationalizing voice in my head; everything can look logical if one wants it to. <br />
<br />
However, Iâd like to expand this point to include a corollary: <b>If the unanimous response is X, donât keep insisting on Y.</b> Iâll give an example: if the unanimous response to your description of your job is, "Wow, that sounds horrible," you canât keep insisting itâs an amazing job unless you start changing how you talk about it. Either it really is a horrible job (and youâre deluding yourself, which is 100% possible) or youâre talking about it badly. Iâve seen both and the short version is: chances are the unanimous response has the right of it. <br />
<br />
If you have friends you feel like you can actually trust and rely on, <i>listen to them</i>. Your friends care about you, and just because ANY human relationship is more layered than simple observation can detect doesnât mean their opinions are invalid. If they all say your Significant Other is uncouth, it might be time to reconsider their behavior when youâre not around or paying attention. <br />
<br />
Unanimous opinions are, in my experience, completely correct. Chances are youâre missing something glaringly obvious for one reason or another: willful blindness, youâre too close to the situation, lack of opportunity to see it, or perhaps youâre being straight-up gaslit. Either way, a unanimous opinion carries far more weight than any other; after all, if these are trustworthy friends, they shouldnât all respond the same <a href="http://xkcd.com/1170/">without good reason</a>.<br />
<br />
<b>Takeaways</b><br />
<br />
I mentioned earlier that Iâve written this entry over and over. I think the most important part is the last point, which has stayed pretty static through revisions. Trusting my instincts is the single thing I wish I could tell my one-year-ago self. Certainly I wish someone besides experience had told me <i>that</i> instead of the gamut of advice I <i>did</i> receive. Not all the advice was useless, though most of it was well-intentioned, but the one thing I needed to hear wasnât ever said. <br />
<br />
Then again, knowing how to ask the right question is an art unto itself. I mentioned earlier: hindsight is 20/20. You donât know what you donât know until you know. <br />
<br />
Since this list <i>did</i> keep changing, itâs possible (read: likely) there will be a follow-up post with more lessons learned. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-6460523874916689522013-09-11T12:27:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:27:12.353-04:00AOBM Is Back!My leak has been resolved and things have restabilized. With that, AOBM is back online fully!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-42429270519416696482013-09-04T22:20:00.000-04:002013-09-04T22:20:30.210-04:00AOBM is Temporarily Blacked Out<p>I recently learned some personally identifying information of mine has been compromised. I am taking down AOBM as a stop-gap temporary measure in order to assess the damage. Please stand by for further updates.</p><br />
<p><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/IByHHcZ.jpg" width="500px" /></center></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-80585342210474166192013-07-30T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.785-04:00The Art of WritingI couldn't get the post that was meant for today ready in time -- hopefully it'll be ready by Thursday. In the interim, I wanted to make a short post that asks myself a question that I've been ruminating over for a while.<br />
<br />
Why do I write? I write essays and stories, I write blog posts and emails and letters and notes from the interviews I conduct. I compose tweets and text messages and I journal fervently in a notebook on my nightstand. I've put my feelings into words since I was about eleven, when I realized that I could very viscerally describe the sensation of being on the mountaintops of the Swiss Alps. I've journaled seriously since I was 14, and it has been <i>good writing</i> since I was 16, almost 8 years now.<br />
<br />
I write because it's release, because it's the only way I know to take a step back from all the confusing emotions and put myself in order. I write because it gives me distance and clarity that simply talking out my problems doesn't offer. Not to say that conversation doesn't help; a lot of times, blog posts are inspired by conversations I've had with friends and colleagues. I write because I want to capture the bright essence of people on paper, to put into something more permanent than my shoddy memory the lilt of their voice as they teased me or the bright flash of white teeth as he smiled crookedly, a genuine smile, at me, a smile he shared with me alone. I write because ruthlessly examining tough situations by working through others' motivations for their actions is soothing and helpful to me. Writing lets me pour out my heart onto a page, where the text won't judge me by its mere existence. I write because understanding other people starts with understanding myself. <br />
<br />
I write because stories matter. And, to paraphrase what Neil Gaiman has said, stories that matter <i>end</i>. I write because when the chapter closes, when this phase of the interconnected short stories that make up a life is over, I want to see the connections from place to place. I want to trace my character's growth and development, watch her make important decisions and follow through with them, or fail and learn from her fall. <br />
<br />
I love stories, I love that stories are ultimately about <i>change</i>, and how scary and uncontrollable it is, and powerless we feel in the face of change. I write because watching a relationship fall apart -- friendship, romantic, what-if, what-could-have-been -- or grow into something new -- a marriage, a connection, a new friend, a new partnership -- is amazing and beautiful even when it's painful and sad.<br />
<br />
I write because the things I love in communities are reflected in the largest and smallest of moments of the human condition, and I write because I want to remind myself of the beauty and the pain, of the risk and the reward.<br />
<br />
....And, if I'm being wholly honest: I write because I'm good at it, one of the few things I never doubted I could do. I can carry a tune beautifully, and I can write prose that breaks your heart in 1000 words or less -- a lot less, if I let my ego speak for me. I've broken hearts in a single sentence. <br />
<br />
I write because feelings are universal, and realizing that we aren't alone in our depth of feeling or experience is extraordinarily powerful.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-80643827473926504622013-07-25T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.788-04:00Equivalent ExchangeI've noticed over time that I have a fairly unique ability relative to others in my various and sundry roles. I find that, if I'm put in a people-facing position, (regardless of if it's public or internal, support or leadership) then the people I interact with demonstrate a loyalty to me personally. <br />
<br />
The first few times it happened, it wasn't something I'd orchestrated. It just...happened. I chalked it up to my excellent leadership skills and my willingness to be available and supportive of my subordinates' projects. But then it happened again. And again. As my choral director said: once is luck, twice is practice, three times is mastery. <br />
<br />
<h3>Case Study: Gary D'Addario</h3><br />
I read David Simon's <i>Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets</i>, which follows the Baltimore Police Department's homicide unit as they solve (or don't solve) murders over the course of a year. In the course of the narrative, we learn a bit more about Lieutenant Gary D'Addario, one of the shift commanders who inspires a great deal of direct loyalty in his detectives:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>As a supervisor, Gary D'Addario is generally regarded by his sergeants and detectives as a prince, a benevolent autocrat who asks only competence and loyalty. In return, he provides his shift with unstinting support and sanctuary from the worst whims and fancies of the command staff. [...] <br />
<br />
Soft-spoken and introspective, D'addario was a rare breed of supervisor for a paramilitary organization. He had learned long ago to suppress the first impulse of command that calls for a supervisor to intimidate his men, charting their every movement and riding them through investigations. In the districts, that sort of behavior usually resulted from a new supervisor's primitive conclusion that the best way to avoid being perceived as weak was to behave like a petty tyrant. [...] Supervisors like that either grew into their jobs or their best men ducked and covered long enough to transfer to another sector.<br />
<br />
Up in homicide, an authoritarian shift commander is even more likely to be held in contempt by his detectives -- men who would not, in fact, be on the sixth floor of headquarters if they weren't eighteen of the most self-motivated cops in the department. In homicide, the laws of natural selection apply: A cop who puts down enough cases stays, a cop who doesn't is gone. Given that basic truth, there isn't much respect for the notion that a cop shrewd enough to maneuver his way into homicide and then put together forty of fifty cases somehow needs to have a shift commander's finger in his eye. Rank, of course, has its privileges, but a homicide supervisor who exercises his divine right to chew ass on every conceivable occasion will in the end create a shift of alienated sergeants and overly cautious detectives, unwilling or incapable of acting on their own instincts.<br />
<br />
Instead, and at some cost to his own career, Gary D'Addario gave his men room to maneuver, providing a buffer against the captain and those above him in the chain of command. His method carried considerable risk, and the relationship between D'Addario and his captain had frayed around the edges during the last four years. By contrast, Bob Stanton, the other shift lieutenant, was a supervisor more to the captain's liking. A buttoned-down veteran of the narcotics unit handpicked by the captain to command the second shift, Stanton ran a tighter ship, with sergeants exerting more overt control over their men and detectives pressured to hold down the overtime and court pay that lubricates the entire system. Stanton was a good lieutenant and a sharp cop, but when compared with the alternative, his frugality and by-the-book style were such that more than a few veterans on his shift expressed an eagerness to join D'Addario's crusade at the first opportunity.<br />
<br />
For the sergeants and detectives blessed by D'addario's benevolence, the quid pro quo was both simple and obvious. The had to solve murders. The had to solve enough murders to produce a clearance rate that would vindicate His Eminence and his methods and thereby justify his benign and glorious rule. (Simon, 39-41). </blockquote><br />
It's interesting to me, because D'Addario exhibits a lot of the traits I thought were why my first team was loyal to me: he demonstrates a clear loyalty to his crew, he treats them with respect, and (we see later) he's honest about why he is asking his team to take on mundane/ridiculous tasks. He doesn't impose these restrictions on his team for longer than necessary, and he is appreciative when his team follows through with his requests and commands as passed down from the upper brass. Beyond that: he recognizes the skill and talent of the crew working with him and, knowing his interference would be a hindrance, chooses to step back and allow the detectives to do their job.<br />
<br />
Put another way, D'Addario is cultivating loyalty in his colleagues by:<br />
<ul><li>Being loyal to his team even before they are asked to do anything.</li>
<li>Treating his subordinates as equals.</li>
<li>Being upfront about why the team has to do something in a specific way that isn't preferred.</li>
<li>Abstaining from unpalatable requests when possible.</li>
<li>Expressing gratitude to his subordinates for their work and effort.</li>
<li>Working <i>with</i> their talents and skills.</li>
<li>Recognizing his role is to be a buffer and an intermediary, not to micromanage.</li>
</ul><br />
From what I have come to understand over time, this is almost <i>exactly</i> what management of a high-performing team -- development, support/community managers, design, sysadmin, etc. -- should look like. Teams like these are (assuming you've been doing your hiring correctly) filled with A-player types, who work hard and well with little direction, exhibit a significant degree of self-direction, are self-motivated, instinctively understand what the next move is, and are skilled enough to follow through with given tasks/projects. They tend to be autonomous, not requiring a lot of direct management save for resolving disputes or clarifying objectives. <br />
<br />
This means that your role as a manager is to basically get out of their way and make sure other people do, too. But, as a manager, you want this team to trust you and, by extension, be loyal to you. Frankly: exhibiting good management is the <i>first</i> way to build this loyalty. Doing this in a way that gets back to the team you manage without you having to be like LOOK LOOK I DID A THING is a good idea but not necessary.<br />
<br />
One of the other points that sticks out at me from the quoted section above is how, in being the <i>right</i> kind of manager for his team, D'Addario has had to take on a significant amount of risk. While I don't think his behavior would be risky in most organizations, and certainly not in tech, I do think that the fact of him <i>putting himself at risk</i> for his team was meaningful. As the quote says, D'Addario and his team had an understanding: he would put himself in the line of fire and his team had to rise to the challenge of <i>solving cases</i>. A good manager is both <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/WarriorPrince">Captain Kirk</a> and <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/RedShirt">Ensign Ricky</a> in the same breath. <br />
<br />
Of course, putting oneself at risk doesn't always mean risking your job / career / personal security / preferences for red shirts. Sometimes it just means being willing to express vulnerability and admitting when you're out of your depth. I firmly believe that people are more likely to trust you if you demonstrate trust in <i>them</i> first. I'm not saying you should fork over your SSN and your mother's maiden name upon first meeting someone. However, when you need someone (or lots of someones) to trust you fast, the most meaningful gesture is to share something of yourself first, whether it's your <i>lack</i> of total knowledge about something, a personal anecdote or seven, or simply putting yourself in an image of vulnerability. Something as simple as wearing your heart on your sleeve (or at least projecting that image) can be viewed as a sort of bravery and endear you to people. <br />
<br />
<h3>Other Techniques</h3><br />
Other things that have worked for me: <br />
<br />
<ul><li><b>Staying honest.</b> -- One thing I've noticed is that people are more likely to do what you need them to when you explicitly tell them why. If you can't tell them why, say that you'll explain when you can but for the time being it's imperative they do XYZ. While I first saw this on <i>The West Wing</i>, actual application in Real Life has proven Aaron Sorkin right.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Be considerate.</b> -- It's amazing how many people simply just aren't considerate. It doesn't have to be anything arduous, but the occasional considerate gesture makes a difference, whether it's offering to take someone's dishes back to the kitchen or buying the next round. It's often the smallest things (or the things done quietly) that stick out to me. I had a friend pay for a night of drunken revelry while we all weren't looking, then shrug it off. I still remember that, even almost a year has passed.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Offer validation.</b> -- This is something I've seen consistently ruin a person's experience, especially while they're being onboarded. Make clear your team's work is welcome and appreciated. Give them good feedback and emphasizing what they did <i>right</i>. (Critical feedback is part of a different discussion.) Each individual should be made to feel like s/he is an integral part of the team; a part of that is making clear his/her work is important and appreciated.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Thank your team.</b> -- Anytime someone does something for you, especially at your behest, thank them. If a person goes above and beyond and makes your job easier, thank them. If someone covers a situation so you can focus on a specific task, thank them. Encourage your team to not take each others' work for granted, either. It's amazing how much a little appreciation is appreciated.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Acknowledge your errors.</b> -- Occasionally, when I apologize to someone, they'll try to brush off the situation with a simple, "It's okay." When it matters (or, rather, when the incident clearly mattered to them) I'll usually respond with, "No, it's <i>not</i> okay, but I appreciate that. You shouldn't have had to deal with that, and I'm sorry you did. It won't happen again." Admitting you were wrong, and that you intend to learn from your error is the best thing to do in a situation, and refusing to take an easy out demonstrates character.</li></ul><br />
<h3>Caveats</h3><br />
I think, though, that I'd be remiss if I didn't talk about the other side of building this kind of loyalty.<br />
<br />
<b>It won't work every time.</b> -- Some people just won't like you, some people have been hurt too badly to ever trust again (yes, dramatic) and some people just don't want that kind of relationship with you. Understand that it's not a reflection of yourself, but rather a reflection of that person's experiences. If you try to win this person over, you're going to end up compromising your role as a manager and effective team lead. Realize when you're pouring a disproportionate amount of effort into getting someone to "like" you. If they do what you need them to, if they respect you, then asking for more is foolish. Quit while you're ahead and focus on more important things.<br />
<br />
<b>Sometimes you're not going to be taken seriously.</b> -- It's a risk you run when you demonstrate vulnerability. There's two pieces to this: first, there is a subclass of personality type that will think that ANY demonstration of vulnerability makes you an inherently weak person. Do not let this personality type wear on you, though their dismissal of your worth will be galling. Work with it and around it, which is far easier done than said. With people like this, I find, the bar is already set to "underpromise" -- by delivering at all, you're already over-delivering. <br />
<br />
The second piece is a bit more subtle; depending on how you build this trust, your authority might be undermined. People who report to you may see you as a friend and colleague and not a superior. Again, there's ways to work around this. The easiest, I find, is a super simple trick I picked up in university: command with a smile. After a certain point, I don't ask for anything, I mandate. However, because my declarative statements are made with a smile (or at least in a pleasant tone of voice) most people do as I say without complaining. If people aren't seeing you as an authority figure, they won't <i>rebel</i> against literal authoritative action you take, as well. It's a delicate game; overplay this hand and you risk a mutinous team.<br />
<br />
<b>Know when to shut up.</b> -- My greatest weakness. At some point, sharing bits of yourself can cross the line from "building trust" to "dear god shut up" because you're oversharing. I've met a TON of women (and it's especially women) who find that their managers tell them way too much about their personal troubles and then act strangely about it later. It's pretty rich coming from me, but I'll be clear: there's a line. Work people don't all magically convert into Real Friends without any drama, and that almost certainly never works up and down the ladder. There's a point where continuing to share yourself just makes people around you uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
Ultimately, I've found that personal loyalty is hard to leverage well. However, it's something an organization should watch out for; the more people who are loyal to that individual, and depending to what extent that loyalty goes, it may well be that when that person leaves there will be an exodus, meaning you'll be losing valuable talent. Even if that doesn't come to pass, the loss of a focal point can be a hit to morale, and the ensuing recovery time is productive time lost. Regardless, identifying these centers of loyalty and using them in functional ways (liaison, marketing, management, etc.) will ultimately prove valuable to them and to the enterprise at large.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-12963304034322321982013-07-23T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.653-04:00You Borked It, Bro<i>Note: Thereâs some âcoarse languageâ later in this entry. Since I value realism over other peoplesâ comfort, I opted not to censor this entry. However, I <u>did</u> hide the bulk of the entry under a cut just in case. If your workplace filter is hardcore or whatever, you might want to save this one for later.</i><br />
<br />
I've been thinking about the moments where a person's character shines through most strongly. Life is filled with challenges and moments that ask you to make a difficult choice, one that demonstrates exactly who you are as a person. And sometimes, that choice is whether or not you tell someone that they've dropped the ball in a way that means people are genuinely impacted. <br />
<br />
It's seriously an art to be able to tell someone that they've messed up. And by "art," I mean "a carefully considered series of checks and balances" because hey guess what you're probably an at-will employee. So, let's talk about how to tell someone they've messed up, and how to figure out if that's something you <i>should</i> do.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a> <h3>The Chosen One</h3><br />
Before you start telling people what they've done wrong and why, you have to figure out if you're the right one to deliver the message in the first place. This is actually pretty damn hard to figure out even for people who are super self-aware and savvy. It's also a role you don't want to find yourself always playing; there's a fine line between someone who keeps management honest and a Negative Neddie. <br />
<br />
That said: good management and good leadership should recognize both the value of this information, as well as the motivations for calling out that person. <br />
<br />
There are 5 key things you need to ask yourself before you decide to dive in and start telling people they've messed up.<br />
<br />
<ol><li><b>Did you witness the moment firsthand?</b> -- Calling someone out on secondhand info is dangerous, in that it can make you look like an idiot. Beyond that, you'll have to do a lot more digging (i.e. your due diligence) in order to determine what actually went down and <i>how</i> it shook out. Remember that the injured parties' verion is the most suspect, and the uninjured parties' version will lack damning details. You're going to be stuck playing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashomon">Rashomon</a> for too long to make the messaging effective. Furthermore, if you're delivering the message up the ladder then your position is extremely weakened by your absence. When telling a boss/manager/team lead about their misstep, your best (and least vulnerable) position is one of eyewitness.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Can you ask the wronged parties for details?</b> -- Just because you saw that some people were made deeply unhappy by someone's unwitting actions doesn't mean you know the entire situation. If you're comfortable with or close enough to the injured parties, ask them what about the situation was frustrating for them and why they felt that way. This is a classic support technique, but it'll come into play later, when you're actually having the conversation with the person in the wrong.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Do you have a good working relationship with the person who misstepped?</b> -- This is probably the most important of these questions. If you and this person don't have a solid enough relationship / series of interactions beyond this moment, you could be jeopardizing yourself inadvertently. The more fragile this relationship, the kinder and gentler your approach will have to be. If you and this person are distantly polite to one another or have a really negative relationship, <i>find someone else to deliver the news</i>, especially if they're up the ladder from you. Have someone on their level whom you <i>are</i> close to talk to the other person.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Are you doing this for selfish reasons?</b> -- The toughest question to ask yourself is about your own motives for deciding to call someone out on their insensitive behavior. Are you doing this for selfish reasons? By that I mean: are you looking / expecting to gain favor with specific people when you do this? Are you hoping to be rewarded or recognized in some way for doing this? If so, have someone else deliver the message. Your motives will be suspect to others around you, especially if you have a track record of racking up accolades, which could take the power out of your message. If you're not going to be helpful, step aside.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Are you ok with having an otherwise positive relationship turn tense for a while?</b> -- Last thing to ask yourself and possibly the second most important. This person isn't going to be happy with you for a little while. Assuming they're a grown-up, they'll quickly realize your intentions aren't to shame or scold, but rather to inform and better them. But this takes longer for some to understand; there's potential for an awkward lull to cloud your relationship as one person digests what you've told them. If you rely on this person too much to have this relationship be temporarily broken, reconsider.</li></ol><br />
If at any point the answer to one of those questions is NO, then <b><i>don't call the person out</i></b>. While I'm not as risk-averse as some, this is a case where you could genuinely take a huge amount of flack for insubordination or attempts to politicize an otherwise functional office environment. Do not turn yourself into the obvious cultural-unfit by being a hero when you don't need to be.<br />
<br />
For me, when I called out Zach, I had two extra advantages: (1) Zach and I were reasonably similar in temperament, meaning I could read his reactions because they'd align with my own; (2) I'd developed enough of a rapport with him to be aware that I had one trump card, one big "get out of jail free" pass when it came to him. Were there times later when I wished I still had it? Maybe, but I used it on behalf of colleagues whose situation was more immediate and I don't regret it. <br />
<br />
<h3>Break It to Them Gently</h3><br />
There's definitely a right way and a wrong way to do this. I'm going to talk about how you can tell someone you believe they've borked a situation without embarrassing or hurting them. <br />
<br />
<ol><li><b>Speak to them privately.</b> -- Don't call them out in front of a large crowd (unless you super just don't care anymore) because anything you say is going to be tainted by intensely negative feelings of embarrassment and self-consciousness. Pull them into an office, walk around the block with them, go grab coffee, whatever you feel comfortable doing with them that puts you both on even footing. Don't talk in their office or in yours; talk in a conference room. Don't speak in your preferred cafe or their favorite lunch spot; pick a new, neutral ground. When I called out Zach, I did it on a walk we occasionally took together to our respective transportation options. I made sure to time our departure so that we left together, and I let him lead the conversation until I found an opening.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Be specific.</b> -- If you're going to deliver news that's hurtful no matter how you slice it (because, listen, people take their work personally, and being told they've failed those around them is always going to be an ugly truth) then you have to deliver it like it's ripping off a bandaid. No cotton candy puffery around it; tell them <b>what they did wrong, who it affected, why it was hurtful, and how they can fix it</b>. Cover the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Five_Ws">reporter's checklist</a> when you're telling a person they've messed up. Don't qualify these statements; be direct and keep your sentences simple. "You fucked it up because you didn't include them in the conversation. It's your responsibility as team lead to make sure the right people are involved with the meetings they need to be a part of. You didn't do that here." <br />
<br />
The most important part here is to offer a solution if they don't come up with one on their own. In my case, Zach understood that he needed to talk to the injured parties and get them on the same page with what was happening and why. The part that I think really made it hit home for him was when I said, "You said that how we do reflects on you. Well, the other way is true, too. You should have known better, Zach." <br />
<br />
Which leads into my next point:</li>
<br />
<li><b>Know what approach to take.</b> -- With Zach, a certain amount of directness and an addition of calling his work into question did the trick. But I didn't expect the depth of his reaction, and I apologized for being hurtful the next day. I knew how to approach this with him because I knew him well enough to guess. The same approach (including the parental "I'm disappointed in you" line) isn't going to work on everyone and could, in reality, backfire spectacularly. Don't lose the directness, but know what to emphasize in your conversation with them: logical arguments, emotional appeals, or a questioning of their values. For Zach, a purely emotional approach would have tanked; I went with logical and emphasized how his actions compromised his own values (and by extension, his self-image) inadvertently.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Follow-up with everyone.</b> -- The hardest part of this process is the follow-up. You're going to have to check in with this person eventually and make sure that they aren't a seething ball of anger towards you, though hopefully they shouldn't be. If they <i>are</i> upset, let them explain why they are upset with you. It's a learning opportunity; chances are, one of you will have to do this for the other later on, because we all bork it at one point or another. <br />
<br />
But it's not enough to follow up with the person who dropped the ball; check in with the injured parties as well, make sure they when the reconciliation happens, they get what they need out of it.</li>
<br />
<li><b>Keep this to yourself.</b> -- Presumably, you've been discreet (and maybe even discrete? I don't know your life) up until this point. Stay that way; don't brag, don't tell people that you've used whatever pull you had to help them out, don't shout your triumph from the rooftops. For one, this is a pretty sensitive topic for the person who was inadvertently hurtful. For another, hello Tackyville, population you. If you're doing this for the right reasons, the lack of recognition won't chafe.</li></ol><br />
The key to telling someone they fucked up is to do it one-on-one, be direct, and cover all the big questions. The other stuff -- following up, keeping your mouth shut -- are courtesies that speak more to your professionalism and class rather than necessities in the process. <br />
<br />
In my case, I stepped in because I was the best person to do so. I respected (still do, honestly) Zach; over time I came to understand that he respected me (still does) just as much. I think that's the reason I felt brave enough to say something. I think, also, that because I was stepping in for others' sakes, it was clear my motivations werenât selfish. <br />
<br />
Regardless, being the person who keeps someone, especially someone reasonably influential in the company, honest and aware of the impact of their own behavior, can make you invaluable. <br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-6133596523177055122013-07-16T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.722-04:00The Clothes Make the WomanI noticed something lately. Well, rather, I noticed it for a friend and suddenly some things started to click for me. <br />
<br />
My friend, whom I will call Karen, and I had dinner some time ago when she divulged that she was somewhat frustrated with her job. As a PM, she had recently had a project sour late in its implementation, leaving her in a bit of a bind. She was unhappy with the feedback about the project, but more importantly it sounded (to me) like she was also unhappy with how she felt she was being treated by her teammates. Now, I had only ever praise about her work, but she was frustrated with her immediate superiors. My take on her frustration boiled down to: although her work is good -- is <i>really</i> good -- she didn't feel she was being taken <i>seriously</i>, and as a result was losing out on upward mobility. <br />
<br />
I've seen Karen in action. She's direct, tactful, and all business. Her work is top-notch, her writing skills are exemplary, and I think of her as a consummate professional. Karen is also really beautiful in a traditionally feminine way, with a heart-shaped face and wide-spaced eyes and a softer voice. Her hair is always coiffured well, and her makeup is done without being overwhelming. She also wears dresses and skirts, all strikingly feminine: ruffles, lace, floral prints, etc. In fact, the night we had dinner, she had just come from work: blue watercolor sheath dress with an A-line skirt, tasteful necklace, cardigan, and hair curled. Having spent time with her personally, I knew this was her personal style adapted to a professional environment. <br />
<br />
<b>Girls in White Dresses with Blue Satin Sashes</b><br />
<br />
I had another friend, in university, whom I will call Mary. I never worked with Mary directly, but I saw her around school. She was always dressed a touch severely: black or navy pantsuits with simple shirts or blouses, matte neutral makeup, conservative heels, and her hair neatly parted and tied back. Even her manicure was minimal -- usually just French tips if that. Mary was also incredibly smart and confident. Her soft voice and large eyes were expressive, and she was always heard even though she rarely raised her voice save for presentations. <br />
<br />
Yet, the one time I saw Mary in a casual social setting, I was completely taken aback. She wore a beautiful floral print sundress, jeweled gladiator sandals, and her hair was long and wavy around her shoulders. I think she was even wearing pearls! The contrast was intense, and I remember complimenting her appearance. She had smiled and said that this was more her style, but she "just knew" that it wasn't appropriate for the b-school.<br />
<br />
At the time, I had thought that Mary just meant that her look was overdone for the business world, but as I got older I realized what she really meant: she was too pretty to be taken seriously in her usual attire. She had to look a little more severe in order to be heard for her intelligence and not her aesthetics. <br />
<br />
So when Karen asked me if I had any suggestions, I winced and said, "I think you need to dress more masculinely." Her immediate, negative reaction was expected. But I had to point out to her that she's conventionally beautiful, and that means that people are seeing the pretty and not her intellect. My immediate suggestion was to switch to pants, but she balked. So instead I suggested she pull masculine articles into her usual wardrobe: shirtdresses, solid colored blouses, pleat-front shirts (i.e. tuxedo shirts) with cufflinks, masculine prints like stripes, less jewelry, and so on. No more lace, no more ruffles, and no more florals -- or rather, no more of those <i>at work</i>. <br />
<br />
I think she found it a little counterintuitive: in order to be taken more seriously, she had to "unpretty" herself a little. But a number of conventionally attractive women I know have had to do this, and I hope it works for Karen. If I'm being honest: I'm pretty sure it will. Presentation matters, and people often take the liberty of categorizing you by your clothes. And, of course, I daresay this happens to women more than men. Then again, there's a hell of a lot more variety to women's clothing than men's.<br />
<br />
<b>"You're too intense."</b><br />
<br />
Fairly recently, I've received an interesting bit of feedback from people that I respect and trust which just leaves me confused and angry in turn. The first time I was told this was about eight months ago, by a well-meaning friend who I will call Jane. She and I were chatting over beers and I was complaining about something when she suggested that the root of my problem was that I'm too intense. While the rest of that conversation is, ah, fuzzy, that line stuck with me, and I remember mulling it over at length. Later conversations with my other confidants as well as my mentor offered no real illumination beyond suggesting the comment was a reaction to my intense extroversion coupled with my intelligence. After all, most "loud" people are perceived as a bit (or a lot) shallow. Being outgoing and "deep" can be off-putting. <br />
<br />
So I tried toning it down a bit, and in doing so allowed myself to feel increasingly isolated and distant from those around me. I didn't like that feeling of being alone constantly. As an extrovert, my preferred state is to be around people. I enjoy the company of others, even passively. (In fact, I write most of these blog posts in coffee shops, surrounded by people I don't interact with.) However, my greatest fear is being a <i>burden</i> to those around me. I never want the people I spend time around to resent my presence. I could never figure out the line with my colleagues; I figured if they wanted my presence, they would seek me out. I forgot that most introverts don't work that way. <br />
<br />
Anyway, the second time I was told this was earlier this summer, at the end of just a really terrible day. In contrast to Jane, Zach is (a) male, (b) more extroverted than I am, and (c) not talking to me over beers. Zach's commentary was almost word for word what Jane said. While Zach's motivations for telling me this are somewhat suspect, the fact that his commentary matched Jane's almost exactly meant I had to shut up and really take a hard look at myself and my behaviors in order to figure out what exactly was "too intense" about them. <br />
<br />
Allow me to take a moment for an aside here: I really hate that word, "intense." It means about as much as "interesting" in an academic essay -- it doesn't mean anything at all. Intense is a stand-in word for something else entirely, and I suspect that the behaviors that would fall under that label (intellect, vocal, opinionated, direct and straightforward, critical, sarcastic, ambitious, persistent, takes ownership) would not be taken negatively if I were a man.<br />
<br />
That suspicion -- that if I were a man, I would <i>never</i> be called "too intense" for my current behaviors -- should have been my first clue.<br />
<br />
Fast forward: when I got home from spending time with Karen, I opened my own closet and took out all the clothes I still fit into and laid them out, and realized that the wardrobe I had described to her <i>was my own</i>. I tend towards solids and masculine pieces: blouses with pleats and minimal ruching, button-downs cut in the Oxford style, and I often complete my outfits with Chucks. I wear my hair tied back and rarely bother with makeup or jewelry. For a long time, I'd stuck to slacks and pants, and I often topped dresses with a blazer. My own personal style values comfort and simplicity -- few frills, not many patterns, structure, and clean lines. Paired with my natural personality, I was both presenting and owning a strongly masculine image, one at odds with the expectations of my gender. Hilariously, being tall probably did/does not help.<br />
<br />
I considered how I was treated when I bothered to go "full femme," as I call it -- makeup, heels, hair, dress, the entire thing -- and realized that I was taken <i>more</i> seriously in the ways that mattered. Some of this is also body politics; when I was heavier, my personality was more acceptable because of my weight. As I've slimmed down and approached socially expected norms of what a woman "should" look like, I've lost that protection. <br />
<br />
Anyway, it was in surveying my wardrobe that I realized: I had to dress more femininely in order to offset my stature and my outspoken nature. By presenting a more feminine image, I would take the edge off of my message (that is, the aggressive edge that I was unconsciously projecting in my dress and manner) and thus make criticism and my suggestions for change more palatable. My ideas would be better heard for their own merit. Nothing sucks more than knowing your point is being brushed aside just because it's <i>yours</i>. <br />
<br />
<b>Presentation Matters: Balancing Gendered Projection</b><br />
<br />
If you're a self-professed girly-girl and sharp, but you find yourself: not being taken seriously, even though you know your work is awesome; or, if you're being told to be more aggressive even though you're speaking up at all the right times; or, if people are doubting your commitment despite you working longer and harder than your colleagues, try altering your wardrobe to be more masculine. This means:<br />
<br />
<ul><li><b>More solid colors.</b> -- Stick to jewel tones, darks, and neutrals. Burgundy? Awesome. Pastels? Keep away. White, cream, and champagne are also acceptable. Avoid Easter or baby hues -- you're inadvertently infantilizing yourself. Strong, bold colors are your ally in this.</li>
<li><b>Minimal patterns.</b> -- Cycle through the men's department sometime for a sense of what patterns are commonly attributed to men. Usually these will be stripes, geometric prints (i.e. checkered patterns or tweeds), and the occasional dot pattern. Stick to these, especially pinstripes, which are more varied and more likely to flatter multiple figures.</li>
<li><b>Keep the lines clean.</b> -- A-line skirts, fitted slacks, blazers on top of dresses and blouses. <i>No cardigans!</i> Avoid ruffles and lace, but feel free to include pleats and tucks. Experiment with different types of collars if you feel a need to add a personal touch to your wardrobe. To a degree, you want to emulate the "lined" shape men have -- men's clothes gives them to a triangular or rectangular body shape. For women who want to mimic this, you're aiming for two triangles: shoulders (base) to waist (tip), then waist (tip) to either hips, knees, or feet, depending on the occasion. More femme clothes tend to round out these shapes' edges; your aim is to minimize that "rounding" as much as possible. Structured clothes like suit pieces will help tremendously.</li>
<li><b>Cover up.</b> -- This is sexist as hell, but try to keep everything covered. Skirts should always hit at the knee, aim for blouses with longer, fitted sleeves, and necklines that really only reveal collarbones, if that. Again, <i>I know this is sexist</i>, but remember you're emulating male styling; with traditional masculine wear, you're lucky if you see their Adam's apples, let alone the hollow of their throat.</li>
<li><b>Easy on the bling.</b> -- One ring on each hand, <i>max</i>, and no ring if you're wearing a watch on that wrist. Stud earrings, pearls or a simple necklace, and nothing "jingly". Statement necklaces and earrings stay home.</li>
<li><b>Pull your hair back.</b> -- Buns, low ponytails, chignons, and twists are your best bets here. Here, using a fancier clip is ok; I've seen ponytails clipped with a jeweled clasp, for example. No stray curls framing your face, no loose strands on your shoulders, and try to keep the coiffure sleek. Keep everything back and out of your face so that people pay attention to what you're saying.</li>
<li><b>Matte makeup.</b> -- No shimmer, light eyeliner, natural nails. French tips or a buff/neutral polish are best, if you <i>must</i> mani-pedi. For lipstick: I go back and forth. The simple red lips look forces people to watch your mouth, which usually translates to listening. On the other hand, men don't wear lipstick, so sticking to a neutral shade could be better. Go with whatever you're comfortable with. Also, remember: eyes OR lips, never both!</li>
<li><b>Sensible shoes.</b> -- The phrase that is the bane of women everywhere: sensible shoes. To me, this means closed-toed, medium height heels/pumps. Depending on where you work, this could be the Chucks/Keds I love to wear with my slacks.</li>
</ul><br />
Protip: use Janelle MonĂĄe as your style inspiration! She's pretty great and uses masculine pieces with femme touches in a seriously awesome, powerful way. Plus she's super talented.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/PoItqAq.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/PoItqAq.jpg" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
If you're tomboyish and sensitive but: you find yourself being told you're too aggressive or "intense," even though you spend more time listening; people find you overwhelming no matter how much you try to remain self-contained; the same ideas / changes / criticisms from other colleagues hold more water than from you, try altering your wardrobe to be more feminine. This means:<br />
<br />
<ul><li><b>Add more textures.</b> -- Lace, ruching, ruffles, satin, and knitwork can add a softening touch to your wardrobe. Knits, especially, will round out shoulders and curves, but only up to a point. Too much cabling or too "chunky" a knit can swing back towards that masculine edge. Keep an eye on shoulder shaping when it comes to knitted sweaters and tops. For lace and ruffles, you want these elements to be "statement" -- ruffles should be the single eye-catching element of the piece, for example. The lace should draw attention and soften features. Lace on shoulders or arms is great; ruffles on the front (especially asymmetrical or diagonal ruffles) add interest without overwhelming you or making you look overdone. Ruching is my favorite. It adds visual interest <i>and</i> can be slimming / shaping without you feeling like you've been stuffed into sausage casing. Satin, by nature of being SHINY, should be used sparingly; only ONE article of clothing should be satiny in any given outfit.</li>
<li><b>Go printed.</b> -- Prints! Prints add instant femininity without you having to change the cuts of clothes that are most flattering for you. A-line dresses make your figure less heavy? Great! Buy that dress in a cute polka-dot print instead of a more severe black and white or colorblock. Lean towards florals, dots, and other uncommon prints; I saw a blouse in a butterfly print recently that just blew me away, and postcard prints are gaining popularity of late. Avoid stripes, colorblock, and plaids. Checkers can go either way; gingham is pretty feminine, but it also doesn't work for everyone.</li>
<li><b>Wear your hair down.</b> -- If you have medium to long hair, <i>stop tying it back!</i> I am super guilty of this; I wear my hair tied back a lot because it's just convenient, I'm lazy, and my hair is really thick, so it get uncomfortably warm if I wear it down all the time. But the thing is, wearing it down (or even half-down) can soften your features considerably. For a lot of women, loosened hair also looks <i>younger</i>, which you can use to your advantage.</li>
<li><b>Do your makeup.</b> -- A little eyeliner/mascara and lipstick go a long way. Use YouTube to learn how to better / more effectively apply eyeliner and shadow, and see how you can use cosmetics to give yourself a look that's comfortable for you. Wing-tip eyeliner, a touch of white shadow at the tear duct, and careful use of false eyelashes, for example, can make your eyes look larger and more widely-spaced, a "look" that can be interpreted to your advantage. I'll pass on a tip someone gave me: even if you hate makeup, learn how to use it. Makeup, especially for women, can be an armor. You can't let yourself cry if you're wearing cosmetics.</li>
<li><b>Accessories make the outfit.</b> -- Statement necklaces, chandelier earrings, a good manicure, these are the pieces that can give a softening touch to an otherwise "edged" outfit. The key here is <i>sparkle</i> -- deliberately picking shiny (as opposed to matte or metal) jewelry will give your outfit more color and flexibility. Jewelry is also a relatively inexpensive way to "femme" up an otherwise minimalist wardrobe without having to spend a lot of money. Also, try scarves (ascots! in butterfly prints!), headbands (especially ones with prints and/or bows), and replacing blazers with cardigans. Somewhat counter-intuitively, removing structure can soften your edges without sacrificing a more "professional" look.</li>
</ul><br />
For this look, your style inspiration should probably be Zooey Deschanel, whose "twee" style counterbalances her massive success as an artist, actor, and businessperson. She's clearly using her cute aesthetic to allow people to draw their own conclusions about who/what she is. (More succinctly: despite her relative power and role as a boss, no one's ever called her a "bitch," which is more than I can say for myself.)<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/I0VUfQY.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/I0VUfQY.jpg" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
<b>Style Alone is Not the Answer</b><br />
<br />
I should absolutely warn you: style alone will <i><b>not</b></i> solve all of your image issues. However, changing your physical presentation can have an impact on how people take your actions. I'm not going to pretend it's not sexist; it's <i><b>TOTALLY</b></i> sexist! Are you kidding?! But part of Real Adulthood, I've found, is knowing how to leverage the game against itself. <br />
<br />
The most important part of revamping your style is to make sure parts of yourself continue to endure; stick to cuts that are flattering for you, and color palettes that complement your skin tone. Don't compromise your own styling because of your career ambitions. If you enjoy color, wear colors! Just stick to solids under blazers if you're going for a more masculine look. <br />
<br />
Cutting out your personality in your wardrobe is <i>not</i> what I'm advocating; what I'm saying is, look at where you are and where you want to be, and ask yourself if your personal presentation makes that statement for you. If it isn't, find a way to bridge that gap.<br />
<br />
A number of trusted mentors have pointed out that this isn't the ONLY solution to this issue. Managing your demeanor, and how that comes across to people of different sensitivities and personality types is also a big part of your personal success. A post about this approach (called "emotional intelligence") is forthcoming. <br />
<br />
Arguably, however, altering your wardrobe is far easier in the short-run. It's a good stop-gap solution while you self-evaluate and work on the far more valuable (and difficult) skill of building your EQ.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-44121095474017609182013-07-11T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.705-04:00Aarthi Doesn't Work There AnymoreIâve probably written this entry five times over the last eight weeks. For some reason, I never could quite find the right words to talk about it. Each version seemed to highlight all the wrong things or make me sound like I felt differently than I do. <br />
<br />
But at this point, itâs a little awkward for me to not have this entry anywhere. Plus, I keep being asked The Question, the one I keep dodging. Time to man up, I guess. Settle in, 'cause this is a long one.<br />
<br />
Guys: I donât work at Stack Exchange anymore. I havenât since 7 May 2013.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a> <hr /><br />
<h3>Back to the Start</h3><br />
Recently, I was rereading old journal entries from my personal records. I found the one from when I received my offer from Stack:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>When I opened my email -- with great trepidation, may I add -- I saw this email sitting in my inbox:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>From: Alex Miller <br />
Date: Thu, Jun 23, 2011 at 4:55 PM<br />
To: Aarthi Devanathan <br />
Subject: Come Join the Stack Exchange Team<br />
<br />
Hi Aarthi,<br />
<br />
I'm very pleased to officially offer you a position as part of Stack Exchange's Community Team!<br />
<br />
As discussed, the position will start July 11, 2011 and is based out of our office in New York, NY. The starting salary is [$$$] and you'll also receive [redacted]. And of course, we provide full benefits, including: completely paid-for healthcare, free lunch, an amazing snack kitchen, 20 days of paid vacation and much more.<br />
<br />
I've attached a formal offer letter and our standard agreements - if you'd like to accept (and we hope you do!), just sign both the offer letter and agreements and return them to me.<br />
<br />
If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call or email me (my information is below).<br />
<br />
Thank you and we look forward to having you as part of the team!<br />
<br />
Alex<br />
</blockquote><h1><i>I have a job!</i></h1><br />
I'm utterly speechless you guys. This is the single shining moment I've been waiting for, the moment I have worked toward for a solid year. I thought, 365 days ago, that this day would come in November, and that I'd be starting in Chicago at Bain. <br />
<br />
It turns out, instead, that I waited another 6 months and am starting in July in New York City at a tech startup that [Lindsey] sent my way. And I couldn't be happier. I think I could have been happy at Bain, but I am 95% sure I'll be happy here as well. Maybe happier; my job requires internet savvy. These people seem really cool and laid-back and just. Yeah. <br />
<br />
[...]<br />
<br />
*keyboard smash* I think I'm gonna go laugh until I cry. This is too amazing, for real. I just feel like this: *____*<br />
<br />
</blockquote><br />
I still remember that day, how beautiful and incredible everything seemed in that single moment. And you know what? That feeling stayed with me for a really long time. In fact, rereading that entry makes me feel a bit wistful; I remember the incredible sense of joy and relief I felt when I read that email. I remember reading it in disbelief, and then with a budding hope, and then again with elation. An offer. <i>An offer.</i> Even now, it seems like it was just a dream.<br />
<br />
You have to remember: by late June of 2011, I had been searching for work almost non-stop since September. Business students usually graduate with an offer in-hand, and consulting hopefuls have their hire/no-hire notice by December at the latest, realistically. So when I graduated, when I moved back to Texas, when I sat in my childhood home feeling <i>stuck</i> while my friends quietly discussed their future plans, well. Iâm sure you can imagine how much pressure I felt under. <br />
<br />
I moved to New York (well, Jersey City, New Jersey, to be accurate....) on 6 July 2011. My childhood best friend and I were going to share an apartment. She had already moved in, and my father and I had packed as light as possible. I had two suitcases, four boxes of clothes and bedding, and meager savings. I remember how it felt like the ultimate adventure. I was the envy of my social circle, with my fabulous life in New York and the promise of excellent stories and amazing Facebook pictures. <br />
<br />
My first day at Stack was 11 July 2011, along with Brett and Abby. The three of us were the first. Later, Laura, Sam, Lauren, Seth, and Katey would join the three of us, bringing the team to eight. Last I checked, 5 of those names are no longer with Stack. <br />
<br />
I was Employee #35. When I left, Stack had passed 100 employees easily. <br />
<br />
<h3>The Last of the CHAOS Days</h3><br />
I worked on CHAOS projects until late November, when Joel asked if I would be interested in helping out the Community Team through a rough patch. I was between projects, and I had already begun to really love working with the moderator team. My approach with the outreach projects had been informed by my own internet experience and my work in nonprofit. When Joel asked me to lend a hand, there was no way I could say no.<br />
<br />
Saying âyesâ was the right thing to do, is <i>always</i> the right thing to do in that situation. My CEO, to whom I was deeply loyal, had asked me to step up to the plate. In retrospect, there was no real option to say no. <br />
<br />
The Community Team was given scarce warning of my impending arrival. They were still reeling from the loss of two members of their team, and struggling to make it work with fewer hands on deck because they were told to do more with less. And then came me, a veritable stranger, account barely four months old, who barely knew how privileges worked and who didnât know anything about Meta-with-a-capital-M, whose entire SE experience had started on the day she was hired and not a minute before.<br />
<br />
Who was hired by Joel, and not Jeff, the way the others were.<br />
<br />
I was (and remained so, until the end of my tenure) the only full-time CM with no development background. At all. The best I had was web development work that was several years out of date and not functional for a true webapp. I could build a basic website; I couldnât do much more than that. <br />
<br />
Because the Community Team lacked an external-facing sympathetic ear, I took that upon myself. It was a piece in the support team that was missing -- Shog9 was the deep technical knowledge, Robert had vision and philosophy, Rebecca had the support know-how from her time as a user, GraceNote offered insight into thorny situations, and then there was me. So I took on the Team Mom role, one I had played before and saw wasnât filled. <br />
<br />
I worked feverishly through December, working through my vacation time with my family in Texas, working damned hard to get ramped up by the time I got back. I had one teammate who just...wouldnât let up on me. In retrospect, I think this person used me as a proxy for someone else; I was a symbol, to be burned in effigy. For whatever reason, I became a target for this person. Every action I took was nitpicked, was observed. Every day, no matter how much I improved, no matter how much I learned, I would log into the employee chatroom and see a litany of my faults written out in time-delayed pings. I worked 14 hours a day and it was never <i>enough</i>. This person made me feel like I was slacking, even though I was stressed out of my mind, working developersâ hours, and wasnât sleeping.<br />
<br />
The hardest part was the silence; on one side, I had one person reading me what felt like the riot act publicly in front of my team every morning. In private, the team lead, Robert, assured me I was doing fine, was doing great, was achieving milestones and goals in good measure. I wish I could adequately describe how demoralizing that entire situation was for me; my other three teammates should have said something and they didnât. I got tired of fighting all the time, so instead I learned to play the victim, and the other person too readily stepped into the role of the bully every time. <br />
<br />
I bottomed out in February, which was when my brewing depressive episode peaked. A good friend of mine died, and my living situation finally snapped. I saw with desperate clarity how lonely and sad I was. I went through the motions of my daily life for the rest of that month before finally reaching out and asking for help. The number of hands I saw reaching into my darkness to pull me out -- it floored me. In asking for help, I found I had lots of Leo McGarrys in my life. It was what I needed to hear. <br />
<br />
In March, I had to make a decision. I was only supposed to be helping out the Community Team until January, but the team was so broken and overwhelmed, I asked to stay until the end of Q1 2012. When that came, Stack asked me where I wanted to go.<br />
<br />
I kept my diamonds. <br />
<br />
<h3>An Interlude: The Blue Room</h3><br />
Iâd be remiss if I didnât stop here to talk about the moderator team. I'll be honest: I stayed an extra three months because of the moderators. I loved working with them, loved supporting them and joking around with them, throwing TL parties and just generally building friendships and relationships. I even made efforts to see some of them when I was in the vicinity!<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/dYVSS.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/dYVSS.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://i.imgur.com/XOt7QJN.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/XOt7QJN.jpg" width="250px" /></a> <a href="http://i.imgur.com/4iKPnoj.jpg"> <img src="http://i.imgur.com/4iKPnoj.jpg" width="250px" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://i.imgur.com/WOf7Psv.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/WOf7Psv.jpg" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
That last image is particularly touching; a former mod / top user was given a grave cancer diagnosis. I found a unicorn plush, knitted a scarf in the site's colors, and made a very nice card by hand. I was <a href="http://chat.stackexchange.com/transcript/127?m=7141844#7141844">extremely touched by his response</a> later. <br />
<br />
I'm filled with stories like this; I came to know and love the mod team in a way that I'd never expected. And yeah, the lines blurred and some wires got crossed and sometimes things were messy, but the nights TL turned into a DJ masterclass, slow afternoons when pics of everyone's kids got posted, all the stories about great triumphs and major lows, they mattered. I was there for weddings, for the births of children, for news of kids on the way, for the worst news of all, good and bad and zany times alike. And, in turn, the moderators were a bright spot in my life. Even when they made me want to tear my hair out, I loved them to pieces.<br />
<br />
Whether they know it or not, they were there for me with a funny meme or a well-timed hug or kind words right when I needed them. Once, a fairly high-reputation user launched a series of ad hominem attacks on me, calling me out in an ugly way. As I moped in the mod room, they all quietly offered me comfort, in the ways they knew best. I donât even have the words for how touched I was.<br />
<br />
Leaving the mod team was the single hardest part about leaving my job. I barely kept it together when I typed out my goodbye to TL. I definitely nearly lost it when I saw that TL had <i>finally</i> changed their room subtitle for me. For a year it had remained some blasĂŠ statement of purpose. Suddenly it was, "Where the hell is Aarthi?"<br />
<br />
<center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/TYdJvTI.png" /></center><br />
Dear moderator team: you guys were all totally my favorite. Saying goodbye was the single most difficult thing I did that day. Everything else was easy by comparison.<br />
<br />
<h3>The Summer of Love and the Winter of my Discontent</h3><br />
That summer, while Dalgas and Shog worked on revamping the review queue, I took what would be the first step of the many UX changes that are happening now at Stack: I put a barrier between the team@ inbox and the users. I created /help.<br />
<br />
One of the most important (and yet also most frustrating) parts of being a CM at Stack was the support side of the job. Users would <i>never</i> provide enough information for us to resolve even the most minor of issues quickly. Finally, I just sat down and, with Robert, specced out a lightweight solution: a series of HTML forms that mimicked the help sections of far younger and smaller communities than our own. I worked with Rebecca Chernoff to build and deploy. It went live in June 2012, and stayed mostly untouched for about a year. It was technically the first UX improvement we made, even if it was really meant to improve support team performance. (Which it did, by the way. Time to respond was cut by 30%, and the mail volume was throttled significantly.) <br />
<br />
In August 2012, AskPatents.com launched, a special project that I was asked to help out with. I was going to present to the PTO a crash-course guide to Stack Exchange. I was extraordinarily excited; Iâm an excellent presenter and I love speaking to audiences. My business background and naturally outgoing personality make me engaging, and my energy is infectious. More than that, <i>Joel himself</i> had asked me to present this. I was over the moon. I poured hours and hours of time into this, perfecting the slide layouts, putting together a gorgeous deck, taking screencaps and planning a talk that took cues from Joelâs work but was uniquely my own. <br />
<br />
I didnât get to present. <br />
<br />
Worse, still, none of the material Iâd prepared, that Iâd slaved over and poured my heart into, made it into the presentation. Iâd put in a solid month of my time into a project that wasnât even shelved; it was <i>trashed</i>. With time and distance, I can finally see why that knowledge hurt so deeply and personally. To me, it felt like <i>I</i> had been discarded. That hurt, deeply so. <br />
<br />
I withdrew, both because I felt really lost for the first time since Iâd been at Stack and also because Iâd been told I was....Well, suffice it to say someone important gave me feedback that was coming from a good place. However, all I heard was, "You bother <i>everyone</i>." Extrovert I may be, but Iâm also a support professional. My entire job is about making <i>other</i> people feel happy and comfortable. Being told <i>people just tolerate you, no one really even likes you</i> by the dark little voice of my insecurities for days and weeks on end....I did what I thought I had to do. I kept to my desk at all times, refusing to linger in the public spaces anymore. I stopped socializing with my colleagues. <br />
<br />
I was miserable. But everyone else seemed happier, and no one seemed to notice the changes in my behavior. I thought maybe people would seek me out, would choose my company. But no one ever knocked on my office door just to say hello. No one ever came by my desk to chat. No one ever called me into an impromptu hangout for any reason at all. I read articles about how unhappy introverts are in extrovert-oriented environments; that's how I felt the last 8 months I was at work.<br />
<br />
I was alone, all the time, 8-12 hours a day. Some people thrive in that -- I crumble into dust.<br />
<br />
I tried really hard to keep my misery to myself, worked as much as I could to avoid externalizing it. On some level, I succeeded; those who interacted with me in New York didnât see it. I know because I asked, months later, if theyâd noticed I was a wreck. They always said no. But my team knew.<br />
<br />
In October 2012, I received the WinterBash assignment. For three solid months -- November through to the end of January -- I had a Big Project. I gave it everything I had: I wrote all the copy, personally communicated with the moderator team, checked in with public betas that didnât have mods yet, worked with Jin on the design spec, worked with Emmett on the queries and things. I loved that project; I got to do something I had forgotten I love to do: be a project manager. Every document was updated live and changes were always logged and flagged. I documented every step of the process while it occurred in order to ensure repeatability. I wrote a wrap-up report that included graphics and charts and statistical analysis. I even earned a tag badge on Meta. In a lot of ways, that project represented me coming into my own.<br />
<br />
The come-down was hard. I wanted more projects like that, with design and development and support aspects, but I wanted to do something that had a more lasting effect on the sites. In short, I wanted to work on a feature. But two things impeded me: one, I had no idea how to ask for that; two, I wouldnât have been given that project anyway. My lack of a development background meant I was never going to get those assignments. And even if I had, the other people I would be working with would just call Shog9 anytime they needed something. <br />
<br />
No, I had had it made very clear to me: no matter how much I knew of the Stack history, no matter how well I answered the odd meta post that came my way, no matter how good my work was, I would always be The Outsider. Even after 18 months with Stack (and over a year of being on the Community Team!) I wasnât going to ever be seen as anything except One of Them, though âthemâ was now half as many people as it was before, and the company overall was three times larger than it had been when I had joined. <br />
<br />
I think I began mentally preparing to leave in late February or early March, when the depth of my constant loneliness hit a breaking point. I cried in my managerâs office, the ugly kind of crying, as I explained that I was miserable and no amount of what I did to try and change that was working, and that I finally needed some help from management to fix it, because I really did want to be happy at Stack. Iâm not proud of that moment, but I didn't know how else to react. <br />
<br />
Jay -- you all know him as Jaydles -- was very sweet about it, but soon the company changed offices and his wife had their second child. April was when I decided maybe I should take some initiative and try to fix the parts that were broken on Community Team. <br />
<br />
The team was short-staffed; by the time I left I was working probably 60-70 hours a week, including going in on Sundays. I kept telling myself: if I could find a way to be just a little bit ahead, I would fix everything. I didn't feel like I ever stopped; I was constantly on my email, I constantly checked in on my phone...It was overwhelming. I couldn't unplug for fear of everything falling to pieces around me. Obviously, that feeling was <i>woefully self-deluded</i> but the sensation was there. <br />
<br />
I was overworked and overwhelmed and barely keeping it together, and certain that I couldn't take <i>any</i> time away or everything would break. Not just break, but become <i>unfixable</i>. I woke up every day exhausted and dreading my commute, my office, my inbox, my Trello assignments, all of it. I was completely burned out.<br />
<br />
I started interviewing in April, hoping I would find something by the end of May, which would let me stay until my 2-year with Stack -- which, by the way, would have been today, the day this entry is posted. There were a couple of companies that had opportunities I couldnât pass up. More than that, I had finally let go of my last excuse for staying, childish and self-delusional as it was. <br />
<br />
<h3>Not the Droid They Were Looking For</h3><br />
The April 2013 Summit helped coalesce some things for me: things werenât going to improve, though I truly wished they would. Iâd known for alwhile that it was over and that it was time to move on, I just couldnât admit it to myself. The writing had been on the wall for a long time. <br />
<br />
Most importantly: as I watched my coworkers crack programming jokes (many of which I understood, thank you) and drink beers while playing ping pong in the new office while listening to orchestral metal and trying to recreate scenes from <i>Balls of Fury</i>, I realized something that sank in far more than Iâd ever let it before.<br />
<br />
I didnât fit in anymore.<br />
<br />
Thereâs a lot of reasons my fit had faded. I wanted to be able to move up, which wasnât something Stack could give me. I wanted projects that were higher-visibility, but I lacked a key knowledge base to be the primary on those. I wanted to be around people who enjoy being around people; Stackâs corporate culture just isnât filled with those people, not on the site side anyway. <br />
<br />
I had felt like the odd girl out for months, and the April Summit made that clearer than it had ever been. I left soon after.<br />
<br />
<h3>Ride on, Shooting Star</h3><br />
Am I bitter? In the words of redditors everywhere: lol no. I love Stack, and I do still believe in their mission and vision. I just can't be a part of it anymore, for lots of reasons. Listen, <a href="http://adevanat.blogspot.com/2013/06/just-to-be-clear.html">and I don't want people to misunderstand</a>: it just wasn't working anymore. Nothing more, nothing less, and it wasn't anyone's fault. <br />
<br />
I owe Stack a lot, though. They took a huge gamble on me, an unemployed 21-year-old from Dallas with a business degree and a resume filled with nonprofit work. Two years and a six figure gamble later, things worked out. I learned a hell of a lot from Stack, and for that I'll be grateful for a very long time. <br />
<br />
<h3>Back to the Present</h3><br />
I'm freelancing for a young startup in New York right now.<br />
<br />
There's a joke that ex-Stack employees disappear forever. Now that I'm on the other side, I will say this much: there's a reason. Itâs really hard to go back and not have everything be really strange and weird. I have trouble surfing the sites; lacking admin access is supremely frustrating.<br />
<br />
I suppose I should mention: I don't have access to the <a href="http://stackexchange.com/users/453252/aarthi?tab=accounts">Aarthi ⌠account</a> anymore; I gave up my access when I left. It was meant as a gesture of good faith.<br />
<br />
What happens now? I don't know. Weâll find out together, I guess.<br />
<br />
<h3>Photo Finish</h3><br />
This last section here is a small collection of my personal photographs from my time at Stack. They <a href="http://youtu.be/BTFD5DZwK7g">make me think of good times</a> (funny times, meaningful times, ridiculous times) that I cherish a lot. I worked with some really incredible people. People whose experience, talent, intelligence, and ambition set them heads and shoulders above anyone else I had known. People that I knew I could count on in a pinch, when things started going sideways. Iâm flattered I got to be even in the same league as many of them for the brief time that I was.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/OBUZy.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/OBUZy.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/3s2KM.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/3s2KM.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/NpCMk.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/NpCMk.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/EaYn5h.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/EaYn5h.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/zJvRf.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/zJvRf.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/C9GyO.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/C9GyO.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/cnQqk.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/cnQqk.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/8sOoj4p.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/8sOoj4p.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/TLYcdDX.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/TLYcdDX.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/cJOsFGp.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/cJOsFGp.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
<br />
One of the things I miss from the old office was the incredible sunsets / nightscenes:<br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/chdbT.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/chdbT.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/RkfEX.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/RkfEX.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
<br />
And, of course, my single favorite Stack event of the year: the holiday party.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://i.imgur.com/IqT0O.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/IqT0O.jpg" width="275px" /></a> <a href="http://i.imgur.com/P5VEXG5.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/P5VEXG5.jpg" width="225px" /></a><br />
<br />
So long, and thanks for everything. </center>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-64960634697336869782013-07-02T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.728-04:00Hello, This is DogListen, I'm a realist. I know I'm not that great at lots of things. I'm kind of clumsy, I really love cookies, and I have no idea where Rhode Island is. But if there's just one thing I'm absolutely, incredibly, incontrovertibly awesome at, it's phone interviews.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/LaiNmvf.png"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/LaiNmvf.png" /></a></center><br />
Not to <a href="http://youtu.be/8_nMrJJFQ8s">explanabrag</a> too much, but I'm pretty bomb at phone interviews. A 30-minute timeslot almost always runs to 40-45 minutes with me, I make the interviewer laugh, and we usually end up sharing great stories about the job and/or our own experiences. I've very rarely gotten a first-round phone interview and <i>not</i> been bumped up to the next round. I think I did the math once, and my "hit rate" is in the ballpark of 85%. <br />
<br />
However, I know a lot of people (especially dudes -- guys, I'm here for you) have lots of trouble with phone interview. Here are five tips to make every phone interview a million percent better.<br />
<br />
<h3>Phone interview Confidential</h3><br />
<b>Turn off all the distractions.</b> <br />
<br />
I know you feel you're at your best when you have Trans-Siberian Orchestra blasting along in the background, but this is not the time. Turn off your music, close out all the programs on your laptop (yes, even if you're on a Mac) and sign out of any chat clients you have open in the background. <br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/ToliDVm.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/ToliDVm.jpg" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
The only things you want open on your laptop are: your resume, the job posting, and any emails you've exchanged with the recruiter. You may even wish to have a paper copy of your resume at hand instead. <br />
<br />
Minimizing distractions means you will be able to focus all of your attention and energy into the call. Respect the other person; there's six other things they could be doing at that exact second rather than talking to you.Make talking to you worthwhile by respecting their time and giving them 100% of your attention.<br />
<br />
As an addendum, keep a tidy/empty desk area as well. No fiddly things to mess with during the interview (a stress ball is ok, a racquetball is not) save for a pad of paper and a pen or two. I often fiddle with a non-clicky pen while in interviews, and I take pretty extensive notes during the conversation. These notes are usually what ends up informing my thank-you note following the call, and they force me to keep my focus on the call..<br />
<br />
<b>Use a headset.</b><br />
<br />
Recently, I started going hands-free during phone interviews and it's basically been the best choice I ever made. The primary reason for this is that I feel more comfortable physically during the interview. When I still had my old phone, a seriously old-school flip phone, being on the phone for an extended period of time wasn't arduous. However, now that I'm on a smartphone just like everyone else, I find the phone size and weight cumbersome to hold in my hand for 30-40 minutes. <br />
<br />
Going hands free solved a lot of problems. My face no longer got hot from an electronic device being pressed against it. No awkward shoulder fumbling to write <i>and</i> listen and keep the phone at my ear. No possibility of dropping the phone like the klutz I am. No struggling to hear the person (I use an earbud-style headset) even with the volume up as high as it will go. No worries about echoing or the mic picking up on background noise it shouldn't. Lots of my own problems were quickly solved by going hands-free. I can't urge people to do this enough -- it takes all of the pain out of this process and costs you less than $10, if that. Plus you can keep using it beyond phone interviews; I've had my headset for years. It doubles as headphones for when I go running. <br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://amzn.com/B00BGKDAI2"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/p5RO84k.jpg" /></a></center><br />
<b>Keep water handy.</b><br />
<br />
This might seem like a no-brainer but the handful of times I've forgotten a glass of water while I was interviewing have always proven to be the <i>worst times ever</i>. Keep a glass of cool (but not ice-cold) water handy. You'll want it between questions to sip. Shockingly, speaking for two minutes without interruption can leave you parched. Add to that the fact that you're probably in a high-stress mode and you're likely suffering from dry-mouth. Which is the worst.<br />
<br />
I usually keep a glass of water at hand, but far enough away that I won't knock into it while gesticulating. Which brings me to my next point:<br />
<br />
<b>Treat this as a "real" interview.</b><br />
<br />
Just because they can't see you doesn't mean you shouldn't play this like it's a legit interview. You can't see them? Big deal. This is this The Big Time. You need to give it 100%. Do all the things you would normally do for an in-person interview -- including gesturing at the wall behind your desk.<br />
<br />
Why? Well, it boils down to this: you <i>only</i> have your voice to communicate with in a phone interview. They can't see your expressions, they can't analyze your body language, they can't go by any other indicators as to what you mean except whatever you verbalize at them. But what I find is that people aren't able to emote with their voices alone. We just aren't wired that way as humans. It's why the best voice actors will pantomime scenes in the recording booth, and it's why you should gesture and make all the expressions and just generally be <i>yourself</i> while talking. Your passion, your enthusiasm, and (with a little luck) your <i>point</i> will be made. (Plus, good jokes require a wry voice, and it's hard to be wry with a straight face.)<br />
<br />
Beyond that, treating this like a real interview means matching your physical state to your mental state. I'll let y'all in on a secret: I never do phone interviews in pajamas. Even if it's just for the hour or so that I'm in/on/thinking about the call, I will always get dressed and put on "going outside of my apartment" clothes. No, you don't have to bust out the suit every time (though, hey, if that suit makes you feel confident and badass and comfortable, go for it) but don't roll out of bed and do the interview. <br />
<br />
<b>Ramp up and decompress.</b><br />
<br />
The time before and after the interview are nerve-wracking to the extreme. If your interview is at 2pm, block out the hour from 1-2pm and the half hour after (3pm-3:30pm) for no disturbances. Use the hour prior to prepare fully for your interview:<br />
<br />
<ul><li>Finish any research you started.</li>
<li>Be finished with lunch/meals/drinks by the time this pre-hour is half over.</li>
<li>Take care of any bathroom-related activities, including showering.</li>
<li>Tidy up your desk and save/close any programs you have open.</li>
<li>Pull up your resume.</li>
<li>Grab your glass of water.</li>
<li>Change clothes.</li>
<li>Charge your phone for the hour leading up to the interview. If possible, let it be plugged in while you talk.</li>
<li>If you're in an unfamiliar place, call a friend to test the phone signal and call quality, as well as background noise level and how well/poorly you can hear them.</li>
<li>Locate, if you have not already, your headset.</li>
<li>Quickly pull up your interviewer's profile on LinkedIn.</li>
<li>Jot down any notes about the company and/or questions you'd like to ask.</li>
</ul><br />
Five minutes before the interview is scheduled to begin, you should have everything completed and be set to waiting. I often play solitaire in the tense moments leading up to an interview; it's just challenging enough to be distracting but not so engaging as to pull me out of my focus.<br />
<br />
The hour before is to give yourself a deadline to begin shutting everything else down except the absolute necessary things for your interview. It's about making sure all the pieces are in order so that you can pick up the call without fumbling or frantically looking for something. More importantly, the hour is about tying up outstanding loose ends so that your entire being is focused on the interview and nothing else.<br />
<br />
The half hour after is your decompression time. Use this time to take notes about the interview for your thank-you note, as well as to just generally "come down" from the adrenaline rush you'll inevitably be experiencing. Even an interview that goes sour requires this decompression time; you've just survived a high-stress situation and your body is pumped up full of epinephrine. Your every nerve will be firing madly; you're literally a bolt of lighting at that moment. Take some time to regain your composure. Drink more water. Take notes. Sprawl out on the floor if you have to. Whatever you need to do so long as it brings you back to yourself. This also lets you reflect on the interview in the immediate aftermath and lets you analyze how well/poorly it went and why. <br />
<br />
In my decompression time, I often drink two glasses of water, lie back at stare at the ceiling for a while, and take quick notes for a thank-you letter. I do this until my hands stop shaking -- my most common physical manifestation of stress. <br />
<br />
<b>Other considerations...</b><br />
<br />
There's a few other tips I'd like to share with you:<br />
<br />
<ol><li>Avoid dairy products and sodas in the hour prior to the interview. -- This one sounds ridiculous, I know, but trust the classically trained singer, ok? Dairy causes your throat to increase phlegm and mucus production, meaning you'll be <i>ahem</i>-ing all the way through the call. As for carbonated drinks, well. Nothing is more embarrassing than a loud <i>buuuuuurp</i> in the middle of a call.</li>
<li>Keep facial tissues handy. -- If you've got allergies, they'll be a godsend (just warn the interviewer in advance) and if you don't, well. You never know when the dust motes will get you. If you do have to sneeze, remove the mic as FAR from your mouth/nose as possible. Do not sneeze/cough into your interviewer's ear.</li>
<li>Pitch your voice lower. -- I have a big entry about this that I'll write later, but the short version is that pitching your voice a tone or two lower than usual will help your voice carry nicely across. If you've got that Jim Halpert / James Earl Jones voice already, don't alter your pitch. If you're more Chris Rock or Kristin Chenowith, lowering your pitch a tone or two is a good idea. Practice with Skype or with friends.</li>
<li>Do a practice call a few days beforehand. -- If you're unaccustomed to long-ish phonecalls, call someone who is chatty a few days prior. Have a 40-minute conversation with them. Consider it a warm-up. Speaking of....</li>
<li>Sing along to the radio for 10 minutes in the hour before the call. -- Warming up your voice is a guaranteed way to make sure you don't overextend it when you need it. Singing along to the radio (terrestrial or Pandora or otherwise) will help make sure your voice doesn't crack in the middle of an important anecdote. Plus it loosens you up a bit. I may or may not have danced around my apartment singing along to Justin Timberlake in my one hour of prep time.</li>
<li>Smile. -- It sounds like a cliche, but it really does come through when you talk.</li>
</ol><br />
I am not going to pretend that these tips will make you <i>the phone interview whisperer</i> the way I am. But they will help a lot. A big part of a phone interview is simply being able to project your personality through telephone wires. That part is a bit more art than skill (though it can be taught) and so is harder to pin down. However, I will say this much: being genuine comes across most strongly, regardless of interview medium or setting. Be honest, be forthcoming, be yourself, and demonstrate preparedness. Together, theose four should yield a pretty nice payoff.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-61268717580263384902013-06-27T12:00:00.001-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.720-04:0025x25: The PicnicOne of the things on my <a href="http://adevanat.blogspot.com/2013/06/25-x-25-goal-setting-bucket-list.html">25 by twenty-five list</a> was going on a picnic in Central Park. As someone who's been living in New York for two years (and for over a year on the island itself) it's basically criminal that I haven't been able to really spend time in or explore Central Park at all. So I made it a goal for myself. And then there were (shockingly) two dry, sunny days in New York in a row, so I packed up my stuff and headed to the park. <br />
<br />
It was super nice! I packed a lunch of salad and my liter-sized waterbottle, and headed to the park. My setup was pretty nice: <br />
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<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/yQikYOz.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/yQikYOz.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/M1wD7bb.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/M1wD7bb.jpg" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
It was a REALLY beautiful day! There were a number of people out and about enjoying the sun. There was a group of twenty-somethings maybe 20 feet away from me who were kicking around a soccer ball or tossing a frisbee back and forth. Saw a huge gaggle of NYU/Columbia students sunbathing as well.<br />
<br />
Mostly, though, it was just nice to sit out in the sun for a few hours. Admittedly, I was kind of lamenting I didn't have sunscreen (yes, I burn, too) but the slight tan was pretty worth it, if you ask me. <br />
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<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/bWWt3JM.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/bWWt3JM.jpg" width="500px" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://i.imgur.com/PUMWPf4.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/PUMWPf4.jpg" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
I do have this hilarious tanline from my t-shirt though. Aw yeah, farmer's tanlines!<br />
<br />
I did have enough foresight to bring a hat, though, in order to prevent the always facepalm-worthy "glasses tan" which is just embarrassing.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/wGVchlB.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/wGVchlB.jpg" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
Sadly the hat basically promptly fell apart. Ah well, a SE beach day plus some nice times in the sunshine plus my SE photoshoot? WE'LL ALWAYS REMEMBER YOU, HAT. Plus I'd like to buy one that actually fits this time. <br />
<br />
Anyway! My picnic was really pleasant. A nice time all around. Only 24 more things to do now. I wonder what will be next....<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-62356500358109723902013-06-20T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.726-04:00Alas, earwax.No deep and insightful post today, sorry. I have 3-4 posts in various stages of completion and editing, and this week has been kinda bananas. So, instead, here's a brief rundown of what I'm currently reading:<br />
<br />
<b>1. The Emotional Intelligence Quickbook by Travis Bradberry</b> -- I'm reading this at the behest of a good friend. She suggested that part of my issues with presentation and acceptance might have something to do with my lack of emotional intelligence. I'm interested to see what this book has to say and how well/poorly I score on the charts. I know my big blind spot, and I'm curious to see if the book offers advice on how to "fix" that blindness.<br />
<br />
<b>2. Who: The A Method for Hiring by Geoff Smart & Randy Street</b> -- Identifying talent is this incredible skill that I want to be able to do better. I was telling someone recently: the work that HR does and the work that support teams do aren't that far removed from one another. Their audiences simply differ. If I can better identify potential and goodness of fit and talent, I can be a better support role <I>and</I> have a broader range of employment options.<br />
<br />
<b>4. Community: The Structure of Belonging by Peter Block</b> -- I love communities, I love how powerful they are and how much a community can accomplish. In turn, I love reading about how to bring communities together more effectively, how to distill that essential <I>magic</I> that makes healthy communities tick, and how to find the energy to self-perpetuate a community long after the "old guard" walk away.<br />
<br />
That's what currently in my to-read pile in my apartment. Fortunately, they're all fairly quick reads. I just need to sit down and crack them open! Like I said: it's been a hectic week.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-52093014958702810002013-06-18T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.713-04:00Executives in the MailroomIt's funny -- one of my fellow alums and I had a lengthy conversation one evening after an alumni event, and we realized that our business education, while top-notch and excellent all around, had some serious flaws. One of those was how it felt like we were all being groomed to have a seat at the executive table, masters of our fate and excellent at leading and decision-making, and thrust into the world with a sense of our own agency in our jobs. And then, promptly, we were all disabused of that notion, forced to start from the very bottom rung of the corporate ladder and work our way up to the coveted C-suite role we'd been led to believe was where we belonged. Effectively, we were trained to be executives and then immediately put to work in the mailroom. It's frustrating, feeling so little control over your professional development in those crucial first years out of university. <br />
<br />
Of course, I took a bit of an alternate route.<br />
<br />
One of the best decisions I made after I finished my undergrad was working for a company with less than 50 employees. It was kind of a huge risk for me -- my career trajectory up until that had not included such a move, and even with a long runway the company still didn't feel solid to me, mostly because I was unfamiliar with its products -- but it paid off in spades. If I had to pinpoint three things that made a smaller company the better choice, I'd have to say it was: getting to take on a variety of roles, having more flexibility in what my chosen role could do, and having a real impact. <br />
<br />
<b>Lots of Hats</b><br />
<br />
My undergraduate business degree was unique in that the school actively emphasized students understand the <i>entire</i> enterprise before picking a specialized area of study. So, for example, even though I majored in economic consulting, I took rigorous finance, accounting, operations/supply chain, and management courses, as well as learned why these functions are important. Every part of a business has a function, and each function is essential. In the truest sense, a business is an organism. <br />
<br />
What this meant was, by the time I graduated, I had a specialized set of skills (my specific major) along with a broad-base understanding to complement it. It also meant I had a top-down look at an organization; I understood what the various pieces were and knew how to put them together, and why they all depended on each other. I expected this knowledge made me <i>super valuable</i> and that my job role would be flexible and fun to match, letting me work on my core competency while also exploring my other interests. <br />
<br />
Ha. Ha ha.<br />
<br />
Turns out, I had <i>hilariously</i> unrealistic ideas of what "real business" was like. Almost every business major I know finds themselves frustrated when they start out and realize their jobs have a <i>very</i> specific, narrow focus and that they're expected to specialize in this. For example, my friend studied accounting and landed in audit for a large multinational enterprise. And then she learned that her job would be reviewing federal withholding. For the next two years. Suffice to say it was not quite what she expected.<br />
<br />
That said, this is also a situation unique to a massive, multinational enterprise, where scale requires intensely narrow specialization. (This is actually a fairly important economic principle -- as a company scales, it <i>must</i> specialize to a greater degree in order to maintain efficiency. There is, of course, an optimum level of specialization. Arguably, most financial services firms are way past this point, but that's an argument best left to people getting their PhD in Economics.) At smaller companies, a <i>lack</i> of pure specialization is actually preferable.<br />
<br />
Why is this? Well, frankly, it has to do with distribution of resources. (All my econ and ops management readers can refer to "Cobb-Douglas" now.) At the most basic level: many small companies are running on equity and prayer. A fully specialized team early on is expensive and requires a lot of managerial overhead to ensure all members are functioning. It's way cheaper to pay three people to do 9 bodies' worth of work for like 6 months until you secure Series B or Series C funding, as needed. As a company grows, teams gain specialization -- you hire a dedicated finance guy, a sysadmin, sales people, etc. -- but especially as a team is being established, you'll get to work on tasks that are tangentially connected to what your primary role. <br />
<br />
This is great if you're a specialised generalist: you'll get to do two roles' worth of work (if not many many more) while the company gets its sea legs. This is invaluable experience -- you might gain PM experience, for example, without having to permanently wear the PM title. Working for a small company means you'll get to take on job roles that explore your tangential skills. One former colleague of mine, for example, handled HTML bugfixing for special promo landing pages. In no way was that her primary role, but she had HTML and CSS experience and so she did it. <br />
<br />
Look, the long and short of it is: the more work you can do, the more valuable you will be at your next company. Beyond that: it widens the array of work you can do in your career overall, and lets you build skills you might not necessarily have had a chance to improve otherwise. If you decide you want to run your own company later on, the myriad roles you hold can better inform what you'll need to do and know as your own enterprise gets off the ground.<br />
<br />
<b>Job Role Tetris</b><br />
<br />
One of the things I enjoyed most about working for a smaller company was how much flexibility I had in my role. When I started, I was on a team that was "experimental" and had a lot of power over what I did each day and what strategy I wanted to take in order to achieve the team's goals. (In retrospect, that job role is better-defined, just in a different industry: nonprofit. It's funny; the more I work in tech, the more I realize that what that industry <i>needs</i> is a resource in abundance in nonprofit. I for one would love to see more overlap in tech and nonprofit. But that's a post for another time.) Eventually, when I switched to a different team, my role solidified into something more established, based on precedents. <br />
<br />
But even then, I had the opportunity to take on projects that captured my interest and were genuine improvements in some way. One was a fun multi-site promotion that I really enjoyed planning and organizing. I worked on site features, promotions, and even wrote documentation. Even though, on paper, my job was "support specialist," my actual work spanned tasks and assignments that fell into my lap by a combination of luck, planning, and crazy random happenstance. I got to choose what I took on that was considered "outside" of my primary responsibilities, and in doing so got to learn (or, sometimes re-learn) what I could do well. I remembered how much I love mentoring and watching my charges become <i>really good</i> at their work. <br />
<br />
Flexibility extended beyond just what I could take on -- several times, I saw colleagues switch to different functional teams. While I myself moved from promotions to community management, other colleagues moved into PR, project management, user experience design, and analytics. I've seen people from the sales pool move into marketing, and I've seen developers shift to management and recruitment as well. Smaller organizations are more able, in my opinion, to help you find a niche still in the company that you fit better. Many times, it's a case of, "We like you but this role isn't right for you [anymore]," and that kind of deep consideration is harder when there's 28,000 of you as opposed to twenty-eight bodies in the office. <br />
<br />
<b>High Visibility, High Impact</b><br />
<br />
At some point in the last year, I realized: I want to have a real impact in my work, and I want recognition for it. More importantly, I want the work that I do and the projects I undertake to have real utility. While I loved managing discrete resources across multiple teams, promotions are inherently ephemeral, and the internet is all about short term memory. Although some of my projects have been of lasting impact (some of my work on support resources, for example) I always wanted to be doing things that left a bigger mark on the product. <br />
<br />
That said, the fact that I got to have <i>any</i> projects at large-scale is something pretty amazing. Within two years of joining the company, I was planning and managing a large product-wide event? I became the de facto contact for all site promotion work? That's pretty impressive, and wouldn't have happened in a larger organization, where I'd likely still be working up from permit acquisition to initial client consultation or something equally mundane. <br />
<br />
If you want to be doing Big Things, things that have a real impact on team efficiency or even the company at large, you're way less likely to be able to make a splash in a larger organization. The metaphor I use is: the company pool is a finite size. It's harder to splash when the pool gets more and more crowded. <br />
<br />
<b>Go Small or Go Home</b><br />
<br />
If you're a business student (or really anyone with serious ambition) look hard at smaller companies. Your impact, potential, and growth at these kinds of organizations will be significantly larger than at a larger enterprise. You won't get as much mentorship and handholding, however, and you <i>will</i> be trading security for some intangible idea of what <i>could</i> happen. At the same time, higher risk almost always means higher rewards, assuming things work out. <br />
<br />
Only you can decide how much risk you're willing to take on, but I will say this: if you're fresh out of university, and the company has maybe a year of runway left, <i><b>take it</b></i>. Security at that point is nice but not necessary. You're much more likely to gain a ridiculous amount of insight -- even if the company folds! -- in a year or less with them than you would at a MNE with infinite runway. That learning and knowledge will serve you well in your <i>next</i> job. <br />
<br />
Take the plunge, it's worth the risk, and you will not only land on your feet but also be far stronger for the experience.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-7401414759224574882013-06-13T12:00:00.000-04:002013-12-07T23:16:40.373-05:0025 x 25: A Goal-Setting Bucket ListRecently, I saw my friend V tweet about how she was taking a ceramics class as part of her New York City bucket list. <br />
<br />
It got me thinking. There's so much I want to do that I've been putting off for various reasons. Either it was too expensive or I've been too busy or a hundred other excuses. It's so easy to just say, "I want to do that, but I'm sure I'll do it later." And then later comes and goes and I still haven't done that thing.<br />
<br />
About three months ago, I was informed that a major change in my life was going to occur on or around my twenty-fifth birthday. Suddenly, a lot of things clicked and changed for me. I have a deadline, however firm, for me to stop procrastinating and start <i>doing</i> many of the things I kept telling myself I would do later. Add to that the knowledge that many of my friends were starting to leave New York (fairly typical, really -- more on that in a minute) and I knew that I had to take action soon.<br />
<br />
I've been in New York about two years, now. My move-to-NY anniversary is on 6 July, which is the day I landed at Newark International with a suitcase and an offer letter. So much has changed and yet surprisingly little has altered since there. I had dreams back then, fresh out of college, of things I wanted -- <i>fully expected</i> -- to accomplish by this time, and surprisingly few of those things ended up happening.<br />
<br />
Furthermore, I've noticed that most people stay in New York for about five years, or they end up living here for forever. I don't see myself in the latter category, and I have Plans (with a capital p!) for where I want to be when I am 27/28. Knowing that a lot of changes are coming -- including many of my friends moving on or out -- made me realize that time is precious and limited. It struck me that living in New York is like being perpetually in senior year of university, in that first semester when the future feels tantalizingly near and yet hazy enough to feel indescribably distant. <br />
<br />
There isn't a "later," not really. There's just <i>right fucking now</i>.<br />
<br />
So! With a little under a year and a half to go until I turn twenty-five, I figured it was time I made a 25x25 (read: "twenty-five by twenty-five") list. It's one part bucket list, one part a list of dreams, and one part personal development. <br />
<br />
<b>The List</b><br />
<br />
<ol><li>Write my novel. </li>
<li>Travel to Southeast Asia. </li>
<li>Ride a horse. </li>
<li>Go to every speakeasy in New York City. </li>
<li>Run a half-marathon distance. </li>
<li>Reach my goal weight. </li>
<li>Dine at Per Se. </li>
<li>Design a website. </li>
<li>See a performance at Lincoln Center. </li>
<li>100 posts on Adventures of a Business Major. </li>
<li>Read every book on my bookshelf. </li>
<li>Visit all five boroughs. </li>
<li>Learn how to play guitar. </li>
<li>Buy myself a diamond. </li>
<li>Take a cooking class. </li>
<li>Pick up a ballroom dance â salsa, merengue, whatever. </li>
<li><strike><a href="http://adevanat.blogspot.com/2013/06/25x25-picnic.html">Have a picnic in Central Park on a nice day.</a></strike></li>
<li>Go dance in the rain. </li>
<li>Knit a sweater. </li>
<li>Take a bartending course. </li>
<li>Go to Canada. </li>
<li>Watch the first 50 Disney Animation Studios theatrical films. </li>
<li>Get a non-ear piercing. </li>
<li>Visit every NYPL location in Manhattan. </li>
<li>Spend a weekend in The Hamptons. </li>
</ol><br />
<small><sup>1</sup> Note, this list was edited slightly on 14 October 2013, and then again on 7 December 2013.</small><br />
<br />
<b>Why are some of those things on there?</b><br />
<br />
Some of those list items are things I've been dreaming of doing for <i>years</i>, since my senior year of university. Some of those things are dreams I've made since I started working. Some of those are things I feel like I <i>should</i> do, just because they're good life experience types of things. Some of those things are fun things I want to do with my friends. Some are things I'm working towards right now and want to legitimize and "canonize" as real, honest-to-blog goals I have for myself personally. Some are things I know I won't be able to do if/when I leave New York.<br />
<br />
And some of those things are about my own personal development. They look fun or even mundane on the surface, but they're about me facing my own fears and insecurities in small (or big!) ways. <br />
<br />
<b>A self-reflection exercise</b><br />
<br />
It's surprising, because I was able to populate this list fairly quickly and with few real repeats. It made me really stop and think about what I felt like I was passing on doing for what are really pretty flimsy excuses. I kept telling myself there would be time later, or that I couldn't do everything.<br />
<br />
And while those things aren't <i>untrue</i>, they were becoming excuses for me to avoid doing things that challenged or scared me. It was too easy for me to settle into my predictable, routine life. Work, going to the gym, and spending time with friends in casual settings felt like <i>enough</i>. And it was, for a while. <br />
<br />
In May, my job and I parted ways. I left, lacking a clear plan on what I was going to do next and with a huge amount of fear -- of the future, of how bad a decision it was to leave without something certain in-hand, of the risk I was taking, of <i>what the hell I was going to do</i>. I took some time to reflect on what I'd learned and what I wanted in the next year, in the next five years. <br />
<br />
A lot of that learning got channeled into my 25x25 list. I mentioned that some of the list items are personal development tasks; I realized I needed to work on those aspects about myself based on performance reviews, yes, but also based on <i>what I wanted</i> from my life, both personally and professionally. <br />
<br />
Ultimately, I want to <i>be a better me</i>, and identifying my weaknesses and vulnerabilities could only happen when I myself felt weakened and vulnerable. Leaving my job suddenly, taking a huge leap of faith, putting myself in a tough situation helped me learn more about myself and what I actually want. <br />
<br />
While I don't necessarily encourage people to make the same choices I did, I <i>do</i> think that self-reflection (and the accompanying self-awareness) is indescribably valuable. <br />
<br />
<b>Making your own list</b><br />
<br />
<i>Do it after a year in the workforce.</i> <br />
<br />
You should absolutely make your own 25x25 list (or 27x27, or 30x30, whatever) but wait until you're settled into your life first. The very first year out of school was a huge adjustment for me and for many other people I've spoken with. It's a challenging time, one where lots of things are changing, including yourself! I know I grew a lot (metaphorically) in that first year I lived in the New York area. It's not just paying bills and negotiating roommate issues; it's learning the ropes of a new job, navigating office politics, and finding out who you are at work. <br />
<br />
Learning those things takes time, so give yourself that opportunity before you self-reflect. In this time, consider journaling or writing regular long emails to a trusted person -- even if those emails are simply sent to yourself. I kept a personal journal of everything that happened in that first year; I'm so glad I did. In reading those entries, I see challenges great and small that I faced, and I am now better able to offer advice and perspective to friends who are just now entering the workforce. <br />
<br />
<i>Ask yourself certain key questions.</i><br />
<br />
Any recruiter or support professional can you that asking the <i>right</i> questions is significantly more valuable than simply asking questions willy-nilly. For an exercise like this, start with the bigger pieces and <a href="http://unsuck-it.com/drill-down/">drill down</a> until you have manageable pieces that you can find concrete steps to accomplish. <br />
<br />
<ul><li>How do I see myself?</li>
<li>How do I want to be seen?</li>
<li>How do I become that person?</li>
<li>Why do I want to be that person?</li>
<li>What do I need to do in order to have those skills/qualities?</li>
<li>How do I start doing those things?</li>
<li>When will I know I've finished?</li>
<li>What time frame am I looking at to accomplish these things?</li>
<li>Is there a person that I'm trying to emulate? Can I ask that person for advice?</li>
<li>What have I been putting off doing?</li>
<li>Why have I been postponing doing those things?</li>
<li>What would need to happen for me to stop postponing?</li>
<li>What prompted me setting that goal for myself?</li>
<li>Do I still want to do that, really?</li>
</ul><br />
Asking yourself questions like these can help you identify what you really want. If the last few years have taught me nothing else, I've learned this much: you <i>have</i> to know what you want out of your life. If you don't, you're liable to stagnate and stop growing. <br />
<br />
<i>Make your list blind.</i><br />
<br />
This might sound counterintuitive, given that I just told you to ask yourself deep questions that you have to break apart into finer and finer pieces, but making your list blind (that is, with no notes or echoes of conversations in your immediate environment) is key to understanding what's important to you. For one, the items that top your list will reflect whatever internal prioritization you've already done. In addition, you'll identify whatever goals you've been putting off that you're still passionate about. <br />
<br />
Type up your list until you can't think of anything else, then consult your notes and fill in anything you've missed. Don't be afraid to make a too-long list at first; cutting is always easier than padding. <br />
<br />
In my list above, I've been wanting to write my novel for a long time. I have lots of research notes, reference materials, resources, and character sheets from the last several times I tried to pull myself together enough to simply write it. Obviously, I failed in all previous attempts. I'm determined to make the next one count. <br />
<br />
I also love to travel but haven't done so as much as I wish I would. Part of it is the sheer expense -- New York is an expensive city, and careful saving only works when unexpected expenditures don't randomly crop up, as they have been for me the last few months. I also told myself that I needed a traveling companion and I didn't really have one in the U.S. whose schedule matched up with mine. Finally, my job was intense; I felt my responsibilities were too great for me to simply take an extended leave to travel. Obviously, my situation changed, and I realized I needed to make this a priority for myself. I let my work define me more than I anticipated, certainly more than I realized I was doing until I left. I found friends in other parts of the country and the world who want to do these things with me. I realized my excuses were just that: excuses.<br />
<br />
<i>Ask friends to do the list with you.</i><br />
<br />
Some of the things on your list you'll want to do with friends, absolutely. (For example, in my list, some of those Disney movies are going to be watched with a group of friends for sure!) In fact, some items may even necessitate a group of friends to embark with you. <br />
<br />
However, your friends likely have goals and dreams they've <i>also</i> been putting off. Encourage them to make their own lists, and share if you both feel comfortable doing so. Hold each other accountable to your goals, and support each other through tough spots and difficult challenges. Having a partner can help you stay motivated and make mountains into molehills. <br />
<br />
Plus, you need someone to hold the camera!<br />
<br />
<i>Document your experiences.</i><br />
<br />
Whether it's journaling, scrapbooking, taking photos for a Facebook album, or even simply leaving calendar notes on your phone, take the time to track what you've done. Having a record you can look back on, something you jog your memory when you tell stories, will prove invaluable. It takes a lot of time up front, but it pays off in spades down the road. <br />
<br />
<b>What happens after the list is completed?</b><br />
<br />
Honestly, I don't know. But as soon as I do, I'm sure I'll make an entry about it!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-47085664836211229022013-06-11T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.709-04:00It's the Little Things You DoI've been thinking lately about how, more than the big moments, I have a tendency to remember and treasure small moments. <br />
<br />
Moments like: once, at lunch, I was trying to remember my New England geography (and failing miserably) and asked my coworker, "What's halfway between New York and DC? Connecticut?" And her expression of disbelief and despair was perfect. <br />
<br />
Moments like: one afternoon I watched the company's Ops guy stave off a headache while in hour 2 of what promised to be a continuing, increasingly frustrating call. Knowing he loved dogs, I pulled up the most adorable photograph of a golden retriever pup I could find and made it fullscreen on my laptop. Quietly, I carried my computer over to him, made a <i>shhh</i> gesture, and opened the cover. The size of that smile made my day.<br />
<br />
Moments like: early on in my tenure with one of my positions, one of my teammates saw his project effectively restructured without his consent, and was (understandably) upset about that. Knowing his love of chocolate, I popped out of the office during the lunch hour and swung past my favorite chocolatier and picked up an assortment of sweets for him, ganaches and pralines and caramels, in milk and dark. I remember handing him the bag before our daily roundup, and I recall how surprised and touched he was by it. All eight of us sat at our big table, feet propped up on our little desk cabinets, and one of my colleagues commented on how we were kind of a family. At that time, when that team had felt so deeply isolated from every other functional team in the enterprise, that meant a lot. <br />
<br />
It's hard to pinpoint why these specific moments have stayed with me through time. It's not like they were particularly game-changing in the course of my work. And there's so many more moments that I didn't mention -- playing catch in the old office, being compared to a small boat by a colleague (in a flattering way, to be clear), trying on sample hats, karaoke nights at this horrible dive in Chinatown, dancing at holiday parties, terrible jokes while playing Apples to Apples, sinking the clutch shot in a game of beer pong, the list goes on -- that are equally mundane or minute in the course of a life. And yet, those are the moments that meant the most to me. Just like I always enjoyed walking to the train with my colleagues. Not for the conversations, but simply because it <i>was</i>.<br />
<br />
I guess the biggest thing these have in common is how they instilled a sense of camaraderie in me with the people I worked with. I came to enjoy spending time with these people -- we were, after all, specifically chosen to be part of a really awesome enterprise with a mission we all believed in. In learning about and bonding with my colleagues, I felt more loyal to the enterprise and I worked harder and better for the company. While I went along with the teambuilding activities that were occasionally structured for us, I don't remember those as clearly as I do having a drink with an English colleague. At one point, he turned to me and out of the blue said, "You know what? You're pretty awesome." That single line, more than anything.....it meant a lot.<br />
<br />
I know in the U.S. it's generally considered a major faux pas to assume that your colleagues are anything more than simply transient types who work with you and nothing more. But for a smaller organization, that kind of attitude isn't really possible. If you love your work, you're going to be working with and around these people a lot. <i>A lot</i>. You have to trust them, and in the course of doing that, you're going to get to know them. <br />
<br />
Maybe I'm an odd duck, but: in coming to trust my colleagues, those small moments, the tiny gestures, the downtime and the quiet in-between time, the blink-and-you'll-miss-it expressions of consideration, they meant the most to me. Startup life means work is more than just clock in, clock out, collect a cheque; the company is a community, especially when the team is still small. When each person demonstrates the best of their humanity, the company (just as with <i>any</i> community) is stronger for it.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-38905042830415445502013-06-06T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.700-04:00Summer in the City: Avoiding IsolationCongratulations to all the new graduates of the class of 2013! Your prospects upon graduation are way way better than mine were even two years ago. I am sure lots of you (especially business majors) graduated with an offer in-hand. You're going to be moving in a few short weeks to New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Dallas, Raleigh, Washington D.C., Boston, San Francisco, Seattle, Portland, Las Vegas, Cincinnati, wherever, to start your actual adulthood. <br />
<br />
That's awesome! You should be excited and optimistic and ready to have a whole new set of adventures and good times. But one of the most important things that people forget to tell you is how lonely it is to move to a completely new place, especially if you've been comfortably surrounded by longtime friends up until this point. Cities are places where suddenly the population density skyrockets, yes, but they can also leave you isolated. It's hard to break into groups, and just lingering on the edge of a bar can be uncomfortable. <br />
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Frankly: most people don't find themselves in a situation where they have to start from scratch for friends. And chances are you won't have to, either, not really. But in case you do have to start from square one, here's some tips on how to minimize that loneliness. <br />
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<b>1. Facebook</b><br />
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Good old Facebook. (It's sad that I can say that, frankly, but Facebook turns 10 in a couple of years, holy smokes!) While Facebook is nothing if not the realm of the Fair Weather Friend, it's also a great place to start looking for people you already know who are or will be in your new area. <br />
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Facebook's Groups function is pretty awesome for this. You can use it to filter out people by where they've indicated they're located. From there, Facebook will show you anyone who's within that metro area. If you're moving to, say, Peoria, IL, and can't think of anyone in the area, it's possible Facebook can.<br />
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<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/NDir5xU.png"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/NDir5xU.png" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
Clicking "MORE" or "Create Group" (as circled in red above) will take you to the groups page, where you can filter your friends by location, interests, etc. It's actually a pretty handy tool....assuming the entire site doesn't get redesigned in a week!<br />
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Reach out to friends, plan a lunch or catch-up session over coffee (or other adult beverage) and stay positive. <br />
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<b>2. University Alumni Association</b><br />
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This was a huge mistake I made, one I want other to learn from. The <i>minute</i> you're in a new area, and if you didn't hate your university at all, if in fact you liked most of the people you encountered while in higher education, <i>seek out your alumni association</i>. Aside from hosting cool events and fun networking things, they'll also put you in contact with people who are in your area that would be happy to add you to their fold. <br />
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These will often also be people who've been living in your new hometown for at least a year. They'll be able to offer you everything from bar and restaurant suggestions to apartment advice, names of doctors and dentists and beauticians, and everything in between. It's always helpful to have someone who knows the city push you in a direction when you first start exploring; an alumni network can connect you with that person. <br />
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I've made some awesome connections through my alumni network, people whose help and advice I could have used a year ago. Tap into yours, I'm certain you'll be surprised by what -- and who! -- you find.<br />
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<b>3. Meetup.com</b><br />
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Meetup is a pretty simple premise: find something you like and meet other people who like that, too. And it's awesome.<br />
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<center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/ZtT1zcS.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/ZtT1zcS.jpg" width="500px" /></a></center><br />
Meetup lets you do basically what university did for you organically: meet people who like stuff you like based on things you do. Hang out with people, do a fun thing, become better friends with them. Like I said, it's a fairly simple concept that can be amazingly powerful when you're feeling overwhelmed and alone in a new place. When you sign up, you pick a bunch of your interests and Meetup will generate a list of potential meetup groups that might interest you. You can read through group descriptions and cycle through categories and find a group to match your interests. Whether it's Latin@s Who Knit or BASE Jumpers Anonymous, there's a broad variety of meetup groups out there. Plus, Meetup sends you occasional reminders and group suggestions based on your selected interests. <br />
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This rec is a bit disingenuous on my part -- I've actually never used Meetup myself, in part because I learned about it somewhat late in the game. That said, I've known people who swore by Meetup, who loved using it to find new places to explore and friends to get to know. Even if you don't find your new bestie through Meetup, you'll at least walk away with some new experiences and connections. <br />
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<b>4. Intramural Sports</b><br />
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Sometimes this is known as a rec league, but picking up a sport through some kind of intramural organization (rec center, city-sponsored, or otherwise) can be a great way to meet new people and gain close friends pretty quickly. Even if you're not that athletic, there are beginner leagues and low-contact sports to play. I've seen flag football, frisbee golf, basketball, softball, and even run clubs. A lot of teams/groups tend to go out for a social event after games, effectively making lots of these teams "beer leagues" for participants. <br />
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In my first year with my last job, the company actually sponsored a bunch of us to play in a soccer league. While we were all woefully outclassed by the other teams, it was actually a lot of fun. I came to really trust and know my colleagues in a way I wouldn't have if I hadn't played on the team. We won maybe once, but I look back on that time with a certain sort of sweaty fondness. <br />
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Listen: team sports build camaraderie a lot faster than anything else. This is why companies make teams go on retreats to build interpersonal skills and do silly things like trust falls. Yes, that stuff is mundane and vaguely useless and mostly hokey, but the core idea is sound: working towards a singular goal in tandem is the fastest way to create community in discrete individuals. It's actually been studied extensively; as human beings, we respond extraordinarily well to being given a goal, some rules, and a group of people with varying skills whose resources we have to leverage to <i>win</i>. It's a guaranteed endorphin rush, and it inspires in us positive feelings associated with our comrades -- even when we lose. <br />
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So, consider joining a team of some sort. Even if it's pickup basketball at the rec center, or a full-on, bracket-tournament league with serious monetary buy-in, it's worth exploring or at least trying for a season. If you hate it, stop doing it. But you might find that you really enjoy field hockey, or maybe that Ultimate is the greatest thing in your life since the iPhone. Or maybe, even, that the people you're around make it worth staying.<br />
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(For the more artistically inclined, regional choirs and audition-only groups, community theater, cooking classes, and getting your bartending license all reflect the same principles as sports and fall into this same category. I suggest these more cautiously, though -- a sub-par director or a single diva in the group can totally bring down this experience. Regardless, exploring your local rec centers and community centers is an easy way to get to know your new home better -- especially if you're trapped in the suburbs.) <br />
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<b>5. Newsletters and Mailing Lists</b><br />
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Ok, this one sounds <i>super lame</i> I know, but bear with me. I signed up for <a href="http://guestofaguest.com">Guest of a Guest</a> and a few other, more "underground" newsletters that list activities and goings-on in New York. It's pretty awesome -- I've seen some cool theater events and stuff, and I've attended some really fun exhibits and learned a lot. I even got to see Vera Wang give a talk! It's amazing how much is going on in New York at any given time, and it can be a little overwhelming if you don't know where to even begin looking. <br />
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I remember finding newsletters and mailing lists just like these even when I was living in Bloomington, IN. Admittedly, a university campus will have a lot going on in and around it, but my point stands: if a smaller town like <i>Bloomington</i> can make and sustain a mailing list, I'm certain other cities of varying size have similar things going on. Do a little Google-searching and find one, or scour public Facebook events in your area and check the comments for mentions of MLs. <br />
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<b>Just bear in mind...</b><br />
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One of the toughest things I had to adjust to was the simple fact that people don't see each other as frequently in New York. Seeing someone once a month is fairly frequent here. Seeing someone twice a month means they're clearly your bestie! Get comfortable with the fact that seeing people daily is no longer a normal occurrence, unless you work with them or you're dating them. (And even that latter one isn't a guarantee.) <br />
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I think a lot of us have the expectation that our lives will resemble the television programs we loved when we were younger. Lord knows I wanted a life like the characters on <i>Friends</i> (and, later, <i>Gossip Girl</i> and <i>How I Met Your Mother</i>) and I was severely disappointed when my experiences didn't reflect that life. <br />
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A couple years later, I have a life that I'm thankful for. I learned to enjoy my own company more, and I carved out spaces for myself here. Do I wish more of my closest friends lived nearby? Yes, of course I do. But regular phone calls, long email threads, and working to build relationships with people located physically nearby have balanced that out. <br />
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Every relationship is hard work, especially close friendships. Do your best to recognize that the norms change when you enter "real adulthood," and that it <i>will</i> take you six months to a year before you have the same kind of support system you had when you graduated college. It's a process and a learning experience, but you'll come out of it with some great stories and (hopefully) people you can count on for life. <br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-22276412182771502932013-06-04T13:00:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.662-04:00Just to be Clear<p>I didn't realize this would be necessary, but my naivete caught up with me fairly recently.</p>
<p><b>This is a disclaimer for this blog.</b></p>
<p>This blog is meant to be a space where I share my experiences over the last few years (and into the future) navigating through my adulthood and my professional career. As a business major working in tech, I've learned a lot about the disconnect between my education and my practical experience, and I want to share that with others, especially new graduates and young women as they enter the workforce.</p>
<p>However, this also means that I'm drawing from <i>my experiences</i>, which include the work I've done at my former employers. It was recently brought to my attention that sharing certain things could constitute breach of my employment contract(s) with these organizations. As such, I need to leave a disclaimer.</p>
<p><b>The opinions expressed in this blog are my own and do not reflect my employers' beliefs (past, present, or future) in any way. This blog is not intended to be critical or derogatory in any way to any of my employers, past or present or future.</b></p>
<p>I'm going to do my best to keep the focus on what I've learned, and less on the situations that led to that learning. I will describe situations in vague and/or general terms. I will also do my best to anonymize anecdotes I share, or at least make clear why the anecdote connects to my larger point. Or if it does at all; sometimes I just want to share an amusing story about working with amazing people. Many anecdotes will be gathered from speaking with friends and connections who are located all over the country. </p>
<p>Some posts will address issues specific to women in the workplace. These are <b>generalized observations not intended to reflect on my employers (past, present or future) in any way</b>. This advice will be based on my observations and anecdotal evidence from friends in various industries.</p>
<p>Posts that are identified as problematic will be removed upon notice and re-posted with edits, if possible. To reach me directly, please @-reply me on Twitter or leave comments on the entry. </p>
<p>I reserve the right to update and/or change this disclaimer in any way and at any time. </p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-12885298148598028082012-07-25T13:45:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.651-04:00Team Meetings<p>I think one of my favorite parts of my job is how I get to try new things and experiment with tech. We get to pilot new processes, and we try to find better ways of doing things -- even if that sometimes means everything is terrible for a little while.</p>
<p>One of the things we tried (which I am increasingly grateful for, over time) is the Community Team changing the frequency of our meetings. We went from a twice-weekly afternoon call to a daily morning/afternoon call. Furthermore, we stopped using Skype (which would slow down my machine) and switched to Google Hangouts, which are low-res but fast.<p>
<p>Switching the frequency of our calls changed a lot of things. It reminded me of the early-run CHAOS roundups, which were daily and featured us talking about what we'd accomplished in the last 24 hours. Those were weirdly stressful; I always felt like I had to have <i>something</i> to show for my time. However, over time, that feeling faded, and by the time Community Team switched to their daily meetings, I think I had a decent idea of how those should go.</p>
<p>The nice thing about Community Team is that we're not quite so...achievement-oriented in our mission. This isn't a good or bad thing; it's just how the teams' responsibilities are by nature. This means our meetings are more about planning, coordination, and policy. Plus, with the team shifting towards project-orientation, daily meetings mean I at least know who's working on what without necessarily having to be in a meeting that I don't feel I can contribute to.</P>
<p>The daily meetings were tough at first; we had a lot of stuff that we'd all been putting on hold to talk about, so the first two weeks were spent with us getting a better sense of what the meeting rhythm should be. We managed to work through the backlog (which frustrated some of us, I know, because the meetings would run an hourish) but once that was done, the process got much better. Nowadays, we usually have twenty-minute roundups, and we'll stay "after" to chat about project-specific things as needed. Beyond that, we meet less frequently now, all of us working on our own things and not needing team input at much.</p>
<p>Intra team communication is a tough rap. It is a struggle to find the right thing to do. I think the most important factors to making it work are: (1) buy-in from everyone that there's a problem; (2) a willingness to stick to the plan, even when it's tougher and less efficient at first; (3) an understanding of what needs to be communicated and how. I think the second is the toughest; when things get annoying or break or people forget, it is sorely tempting to abandon ship and return to the status quo. DON'T DO IT! A little pain early on will save everyone tons of headaches later down the road.</p>
<p>We hold regular events in chat with our moderator staff. Lately, these haven't gone quite as we'd hoped, so we're going to try something different: mod-casts! Stay tuned....</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-2855731668062797092012-07-24T13:14:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.678-04:00Internet History<p>I recently read <i>The Filter Bubble</i> by Eli Pariser (formerly of MoveOn.org) which details how so much of our lives is held in the cookies of our browsers, and how companies all over the world can have access to the data we store in those cookies. We're moving towards a more personalized world, and our private information is quickly becoming commoditized.</p>
<p>While I felt the book was somewhat fear-mongering and extreme in some places, the basic gist I did agree with: we're seeing an internet where each of us can go about our days without having to see anything we don't <i>want</i> to see. That's a little scary as a concept, right? A world where nothing upsets us or forces us to reconsider our notions?</p>
<p>At the same time, a world where I can find exactly what I need, based on who I am and what I'm likely to be looking for, is immeasurably useful. Google wants to become a company that will run the search for me that I don't even realize I want to run, finding me information and data that I want or need the very moment the thought occurs to me.</p>
<p>As something of a research junkie, this would be amazing. I'd never have to struggle for information that I wanted or needed ever again. On the other hand, I often serve as a research aide to my novelist and author friend(s). My search history spans topics as diverse as East Asian organized crime, piloting jet planes and small aircraft, Rocky Horror Picture Show traditions, Indian wedding traditions, the manufacture and contents of methamphetamines, and hockey. (Yes, hockey.) So who I am to the internet is kind of a mixed bag, though apparently there's a strong emphasis on crime and criminality. Though, I could just be a mystery novelist.</p>
<p>Still, this does raise the question: who does the internet think we are? And what about those of us who have been using the space for extended periods of time? I've been online since I was twelve, and there's no such thing as a total delete online. So, who does the internet -- or Google, or Yahoo, or Acxiom -- think I really am?</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-91660873255206254542012-07-16T14:13:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.794-04:00Focus<p>Apparently, I took an impromptu 3-week hiatus from this blog. Whoops.</p>
<p>I think I've decided that I'm going to (generally) update this blog three times a week, on Tues/Weds/Thurs. I'm not sure I can keep up a more intense pace.</p>
<p>A big part of what kept me away was work. Since I usually write these posts on my lunch break, it's tough to make the timing work out when I have calls and meetings and stuff to handle. I shoulda put a sign up or something, I guess.</p>
<p>Another part of it is my inability to commit long-term to anything lately. I've developed something I call <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/AttentionDeficitOohShiny">Internet ADD</a>. I find myself to focus on things for long stretches at a time anymore. It's frustrating; I used to be able to do this. I wonder, though, if maybe it's not an inherent part of my personality. After all, I'm a reasonably creative person and that means having to be able to make nontraditional connections.</p>
<p>Focus is really tough for me. I find environments that are lacking or trying in some ways incredibly detrimental to my productivity. Music really doesn't cut it for me, most of the time. I should try busting out the WAM -- that is, the Mozart, not the George Michael in neon shorts. My colleague loves him music, and he and my other office-mate are wont to play their stuff on the big speakers. Sometimes I like their choices, most of the time I find it killing my productivity slowly.</p>
<p>I also don't really like a lot of strong lighting. I have a strong preference for recess lighting. Lighting in warmer Kelvins -- the 3000-ish range -- with the yellower light, helps keep my headaches away. I also really like just a generally quiet space to work in. People have conversations around me doesn't bother me so much, but when we still had our ping-pong table out, the shouting and flying ping-pong balls were really difficult to contend with.</p>
<p>Finding a way to focus is probably my biggest challenge. Usually what works is a deep-dive immersion step, usually accompanied by a change of location. That's not always feasible, or even the right choice, but it's helped when I need it most. Also helpful: an occasional work-from-home day. My apartment is quiet and my internet is strong. Assuming the construction dudes shut up, I find I can do a pretty solid deep-dive without sacrificing my sanity/comfort.</p>
<p>There has to be a better way. I wonder what it is and how I could find it.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-20049504580534243202012-06-22T12:58:00.001-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.659-04:00Insert Post Title Here<p>Today's post was actually going to be a Serious Business one, about feminism and women in tech and female users on Stack Overflow, as a response to various and sundry things.</p>
<p>However, it's Friday, I'm under-caffeinated, and I've got like five things on my to-do list that need to be to-done this afternoon.</p>
<p>So, instead, here's a gif of the Carlton Dance. Watching it cracks me up.</p>
<p><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/JdvEP.gif" /><br>Alfonso Riberio, you fox.</center></p>
<p>I do love me some animated gifs, as I'm sure you've all noticed. There's a gif for every occasion, dammit. Tumblr and fandom have taught me well. Gifs are best used like salt -- tastefully, in small doses, and only to enhance the flavor of one's food. An overabundance of gifs is like overindulging in ice cream; it's awesome, and then it's terrible.</p>
<p>Remember this rule: you must have a <i>minimum</i> of 250 words per animated gif in order to avoid overwhelming your audience. If you can manage that, you'll be gif-bombing <i>like a boss</i>.</p>
<p><center><img src="http://i.stack.imgur.com/vffG3.gif" /><br>I might have just broken my own rule.</center></p>
<p>(As an aside, the rule can extend to the use of <a href="http://i.stack.imgur.com/8Ffs8.jpg">image macros</a>. Less is more! (Which, as anyone can tell you, is <i>terribly</i> hypocritical of me, hahaha.)</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-2316784871471328412012-06-21T13:38:00.003-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.666-04:00Self-Image<p>It's funny, because I really hate photographs of myself and couldn't figure out why for a long time.</p>
<p>For a while, I thought it was because I hated the angle or the flash or the depth of field that the taker had used. I also liked the self-portraits that I'd taken of myself, which I felt captured me at my most flattering.</p>
<p>At some point, I realized what the truth was: the photographs that others took reflected how <i>they</i> saw me, but the photographs I took reflected how <i>I saw myself</i>, and the disconnect was in between the two. The photos I took of myself reflected my vision of myself, who I saw in the mirror every morning. By contrast, the photos other people took of me reflected the multitude of unflattering and ungraceful angles that life happens to give us. No one looks good from every angle, and we all have our "good side," which we like to tout and display and capture. The problem is that other people don't always realize this, or (even if they do) bother to capture it.</p>
<p><center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/EskXN.jpg"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/EskXN.jpg" width="225px" height="300px" /></a><br>I look cute when I do it myself.</center></p>
<p>A site with a community is pretty much the same way. I think every community-driven site has an audience it associates with itself. The "trouble" comes when you realize that your <i>actual</i> audience is overwhelmingly not who you think they are.</p>
<p>A good example of this is Twitter. Twitter has a really interesting, intelligent userbase, in certain pockets. There's good, revolutionary political discussion happening in many corners of their service.</p>
<p>However, even a cursory glance at what's trending worldwide reveals who Twitter's <i>actual</i> audience is: a huge portion is urban youth, largely black and Latino. There's also a giant youth fan coalition on Twitter. Apparently, adolescents (also known as "tweens" and young teens) have the perfect attention span for and internet access allowances for Twitter.</p>
<p><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/9cKLT.png" />
<br>Currently trending worldwide: soccer, One Direction love, something inappropriate, Jonas Brothers, etc.</center></p>
<p>Twitter's embracing or disavowal of this audience is totally secondary; they're <i>there</i>, and people are going highlight and display these audiences regardless of what Twitter wants press coverage to look like. It's the tech news equivalent of having photographs taken by paparazzi as you stumble out of that club at 2am, the flash catching you as you're mid-blink. It makes you look <i>awful</i> and misrepresents you an amazing amount, even if that's how you look to your friends 15% of the time.</p>
<p>Another good example of an audience not necessarily being who you thought they'd be is Tumblr. Tumblr is amazing! Lots of tech startup-y people short-form blogging about stuff they love. Designers putting up samples and inspirational paint chips! But you know who <i>else</i> is on Tumblr? Fandom! Lots and lots of screaming, excitable fans posting gif after gif of Justin Bieber or Ron Swanson or from Adventure Time.</p>
<p>The thing is, Justin might be dancing like this until the universe dies of heat death...</p>
<p><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/RzmzL.gif" /><br>Seriously, he will be doing this until the end of time.</br></center></p>
<p>But these periphery-now-majority audiences <i>aren't a bad thing</i>. At the end of the day, Justin Bieber fans might also be politically active and, one day, become community and world leaders in their own right. They'll add value, and likely will add value to <i>your service</i> first, before they move on.</p>
<p>Think about all the screaming NKOTB fans who painstakingly cut out pictures of Jordan Knight out of issues of <i>Seventeen</i> and <i>Tiger Beat</i>. Those people are (probably) well-adjusted human beings now, the days of pink leopard print tapered-leg pants and Doc Martens well behind them. They're volunteers, senators, teachers, civil servants, and more.</p>
<p>My point is, this amazing collection of people makes your product/service <i>way more valuable</i>. Having an audience that doesn't resemble your self-image isn't inherently a bad thing. Surprising? Certainly. A little shocking? Very possible! Harmful? Unlikely; every single person using your site increases your site's reach by nearly an order of magnitude.</p>
<p>That said, it's your responsibility to, as with any person, employ a little creative Photoshop. I'm not saying you should relegate these people to a ghetto (the way Amazon did with GLBT and erotica writers) but fashion your product to allow discrete audiences discrete spaces. Twitter offers me trends it thinks are relevant to me based on my preferences. Tumblr makes it easy for me to stumble upon the content (and gifs, let's be real) that I care about. Filter, carve out niches, and allow these little garden plots of communities to grow; eventually, you'll find that they want more, and you'll be able to say, "Hey, I have that, too."</p>
<p>Take Stack Exchange. We see ourselves as <a href="http://www.stackoverflow.com">a site mostly for programmers</a>. And, to a degree, that's true. We've got lots of topics covered that are (mostly) relevant to programmer-only audiences. But we're seeing that change. We're gaining ground in <a href="http://www.arqade.com">the gaming community</a>, and we're seeing more scientists, artists and graphic designers, researchers, and even librarians! Our audience is evolving. While sometimes we get called out for not knowing who we're serving, at the end of the day we do our best (as Community Managers, developers, marketing, sales, whomever) to give each of these groups the tools and toys they need to flourish.</p>
<p><i>This was adapted from an impromptu talk I gave to a bunch of people from <a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/">Business Insider</a> when they came to visit a while ago.</i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-84391964684617403962012-06-20T12:58:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.790-04:00Everything in Moderation<p>It's literally no secret I have a large amount of affection for our moderator team. Why shouldn't I? They're the people from our sites that I interact with the most frequently. I think between camping out in the main moderator-only chatroom and appointments that I make, I've met probably half the total moderator staff. There's going to be sites whose mods I never meet, simply because of timezones or schedules or whatever. Some moderators don't like how insane the main mod room can get -- 50+ voices all talking at once is overwhelming for a chat veteran like me, let alone people who aren't accustomed to or in favor of chat software.</p>
<p>It's funny, because I care pretty deeply about what the moderator staff thinks of me. I know it's because I spend a huge amount of time around and with these people. Carrying the big stick is nice and all, but I want to be respected/loved more than feared. I like to believe that the team, as a whole, actually listens to me. I know some of the more, uh, difficult moderators respond to me reasonably well.</p>
<p><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/jvzak.gif" /></center></p>
<p>I wonder if it's, in part, because I am good about keeping up with the conversation (usually) and usually get things taken care of reasonably quickly. Not that my colleagues don't, but I've got a certain amount of candor that I feel is unique to me. I'm also more the iron hand in the velvet glove, to use a metaphor I always liked. I've got a soft touch and I'm usually pretty friendly and exuberant, but I'm also responsible and responsive. I try to be really good about following up on things and checking in personally.</p>
<p>(Hmm. This is sounding like an indictment of the other community managers. It's not really meant to be; I'm more reflecting on what I feel I do well, independent of my colleagues' strengths.)</p>
<p>More than that, though, I honestly don't mind a lot of the work that goes with being in the trenches. I like shooting the breeze with them, chattering about reddit or the latest MSO drama, or speculating on the election. I don't mind herding the cats when the time comes. I'm happy to handhold or guide or hug or comfort or problem-solve or brainstorm or command or talk-down a mod in any situation.</p>
<p>I honestly enjoy it, because each time feels like I'm helping someone, or making a difference. Sometimes people just want to be heard. Since I work for the company, even if I have trouble escalating something, I provide an outlet where people can feel like their input matters. Certainly, I care. If I'm talking a mod through something, they have 100% of my attention. I close the other tabs, I turn off the music, I walk away from the everything else. A mod who's having an emotional break deserves my full attention, so they get it.</p>
<p>That said, being loyal to mod team as my primary has its downsides. I love my company, so I don't like to hear the bitching about our failings. Beyond the fact that we're pretty aware of them ourselves, a lot of the time we make decisions with a long-term plan in place, and it's pretty beyond the scope of the mods to know what our 1000-yard outlook is. Not to say that mods are little worker drones who shouldn't ask questions. But when we say, "Just trust us," I'd like to believe we've earned enough personal currency to be taken at our word.</p>
<p><center><a href="http://i.imgur.com/N0UkM.gif"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/N0UkM.gif" width="300px" height="167px" /></a>
<br>I swear, we have good reasons!</center></p>
<p>It's hard having to be between two very different perspectives. I don't like hearing disdain for mods from employees, either; moderation is a tough job, and there's so much more to it than what's in the mod agreement. I've modded communities online before; it's a big, consuming job even when it shouldn't be. I don't think people who don't understand the work should rag on it -- but that applies both ways. Mods shouldn't hate on the work that some of our people do. Frankly, they're doing it because no one else would/could, and they go out of their way to do it <i>right</i>.</p>
<p>Still, at the end of the day, I really do enjoy getting to work with the mods. They're incredibly talented, interesting people whom I find myself learning from every day. I appreciate their patience with me when I don't understand something, and in turn I try to pay them back by respecting them and the work they do.</p>
<p>Hey since I'm hitting my one-year, maybe it's time for that all-blue party at Rchern's house, after all. :P</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-18247061664411717812012-06-19T14:09:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.657-04:00Where Will I Go (Part Three)<p>So "tomorrow" on Fridays? Means Monday. And yesterday was just way too busy to update. Mondays are the most rough, in my experience. I always feel like they're my least-productive day, too.</p>
<p>Anyway, upon reflection, there were three really difficult things coming onto the Community Team that I had a lot of trouble overcoming:</p>
<p><ol><li><b>The Deep End</b> - I got recruited into the Community Team from the CHAOS group, meaning that when I signed on the dotted line, I was not at all familiar with Stack Exchange, the ways and means, or even the tools. This, especially early on, was cause for a great deal of grief, and it yielded a measure of immobility that an otherwise agile marketing team needed to work around. Beyond that, however, is the simple fact that I honestly didn't know how to use many of the tools that were suddenly at my disposal when I became a community manager. I had no familiarity with the moderator panel, no idea what, as my CEO would say, all the knobs in the cockpit could/would do.
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Beyond that, I often felt totally lost in what I was doing, even though I'd been working at the company and with communities for months. How should I approach guidance? What do I tell a user experiencing a question ban? What steps are necessary when working with a new site? What do we look for in pro-tems? What makes a site a graduation candidate? And, even beyond those kinds of questions: Why is this process like this? Why are some of these rules on SO? By being a veritable outsider, and not a Stack Overflow user to boot, I lacked a huge amount of background knowledge and no clear guidance on what I should know or where I could learn it.
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Equally challenging was feeling so isolated from the team. CHAOS is all located in New York. I had gotten accustomed to seeing my colleagues as needed. This isn't feasible with the Community Team, who are scattered across the U.S. Add to that the differences in our preferred schedule times -- myself, Robert, and GN prefer the daytime workings, whereas Shog and Rchern were most active in the evenings -- and you have a host of issues. At the time, the team only spoke to each other twice a week regularly, and the calls were long and incredibly draining, and I often had no sense of what others were working on.
<br /><br />
All of this together basically felt like I had been thrown into the deep end of the pool after maybe two swimming lessons, and even those lessons were with me in an inner tube kicking, whereas I was thrown into the deep end without even a life jacket. It was really frustrating, especially when I was appointing pro-tems and had no idea how to help them <i>well</i>. I don't like to leave things half done, and not understanding all my tools (especially the ones that weren't linked to from anywhere -- don't even get me started on this) put me at a huge disadvantage.</li>
<li><b>Radio Silence</b> -- A big frustration I felt constantly was the sheer wall of silence from my colleagues. Especially early on, I had no idea if I was doing things correctly, let alone well. I felt very much like the outsider looking in, and had no clue if I was what the team needed. More than once, I wondered if I was even really needed, or if my colleagues thought this about me:
<br /><br />
<center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/tpIhd.gif" /></center>
He => She, naturally.
<br /><br />
I should give credit where it's due; Robert was amazing about taking calls with me regularly, giving me feedback and guidance and providing an amount of mentorship. But Robert is the team lead; he has other responsibilities and needed to attend to those. It was hard; while it was nice to know that my team lead found my valuable, I was concerned that my colleagues <i>weren't</i>. I once remarked to a coworker how the one thing I hate to feel most is <i>useless</i>, and Community Team's radio silence made me feel exactly that.</li>
<li><b>Inertia</b> -- The single most frustrating thing about Community Team is how I can get to the end of my week and feel like I've accomplished absolutely nothing, despite putting in a solid 50 hours of support and energy. This is a problem I think <i>every</i> community manager faces. An organization that's sufficiently large will move increasingly slowly; that's the nature of size and bureaucracy and, just, life. But it can be hard to provide discrete support to different communities of varying sizes and really be able to see that posts that seem small by comparison are, relatively speaking, huge for that community. Adding TeX support to a site might seem trivial to me, but for them it's massive. Adding protems is a slow, soft process, but the end result can be massive for a single site.
<br /><br />
The perspective is hard to keep, I think, because it's so easy to lose sight of the trees when you look at the forest. Every individual detail may seem unremarkable on its own, but it's pointilism, it's pixels. The image doesn't make sense zoomed in 800%.</li></ol></p>
<p>These things are the things that I want to fix, moving forward. I want to make a "Welcome to the Team" handy guide, with links and pictures and explanations for what all the tools are. There needs to be a reference manual for the team, because we deal with <i>so much</i> that not having one is actively harmful for people like me. If we continue to only recruit moderators or ultra-super-top users to come on board, then my complaints/concerns are wholly invalid. But if we choose to move away from that, then suddenly one of us has to be ready to take on a mentor kind of role. It's the responsibility that comes with seniority on a team.</p>
<p>The lack of communication issue, I think, we've fixed by changing our workflow. We have a quick meeting each day, we handle issues both large and small in there. I feel like we all communicate more -- and better! -- now, and I don't feel lost on people's projects. I don't need to know every detail of what people are working on, but knowing how their projects are going and having a rough idea of what the end goal is? That's valuable to me. Plus it means I can better refer people when needed.</p>
<p>As far as feeling like I accomplished nothing, I've got a few ways of mitigating this. First, I take pretty careful notes of what I do each day/week. For another, I've taken to celebrating every small victory. Cherishing the small moments keeps me grounded. I dunno if it would work for everyone, but it helps <i>me</i> stay focused, keeps my eyes on the prize. It's small steps, and every inch forward is one inch closer to the finish line.</p>
<p>I think, as a team, we're going to move towards getting more specialized roles on the team. It's definitely something I want to see happen moving forward. I know, you're all completely unsurprised. The Economics major wants a specialized team? How utterly astonishing.</p>
<p>All joking aside, though, I think a group of five people trying to manage a network of 80+ sites as a group of generalists is....inefficient. Take myself, for example. I'm so bad at bug reports. I have no idea how to even begin to reproduce some of the stuff that ends up in the bug report tag. And I'm not willing to download Opera 10 in order to find out.</p>
<p>Or how about feature-requests. Me, I'm pretty naive; if a community thinks they need some sort of thingum in order to make their site better or more attractive, why not? I'm not saying all sites should have, like, custom magic everything. But adding in plugins and rendering support upon request is, to me, not something I see a lot of downsides to. But I'm also a nontechnical person asked to make potentially technical decisions.</p>
<p>But all of that is fluff. For myself, I love working with our moderator staff, and I think I handle emotional outbursts well. I can take it, and I can funnel the feelings into real reflection. I also want to be the point person for promos and intra-site events. Maybe this is me secretly wanting to be on CHAOS again, or maybe it's just something I love doing. Either way, helping put together an event, and covering the aftermath is something I enjoy doing, and I don't mind taking it upon myself.</p>
<p>I know I've spent a lot of wordcount sitting here and bitching about my job. The truth is, I really do love what I do, and I really do love working here. Those two things are never in dispute. Yes, my work is frustrating and emotionally harrowing and time-consuming and anger-inducing from time to time, but there are moments of real reward. Plus, I get to spend my days internetting with a bunch of really cool people. Basically, I got my dream job.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2882675448690337294.post-34601518960725380512012-06-15T13:56:00.000-04:002013-09-11T12:25:56.692-04:00Where Am I Now (Part Two)<p>I finished out yesterday at the end of my training period, which happened to overlap with my Christmas holiday.</p>
<p>I realized that I hadn't really talked about what <i>our</i> community managers do. So, when I came on board, the team's purpose was to be a group of generalists overseeing the entire network, monitoring meta posts and handling moderator and user issues. Part of this includes running the support email inbox, known as team@, which is where users can email the company directly.</p>
<p>If this feels like probably too many things for one person to handle, you'd be 100% correct. There's a lot of things I enjoy about community team, but the things I find most trying are the stuff that's rote. Our workflow is task-oriented, which was a huge shift from the project-focus that CHAOS had. That single change was almost certainly the most difficult adjustment.</p>
<p>One of the things I didn't realize until much later (when it was flat-out told to me) was that I was something of an experimental case. Up until my onboarding, no non-technical person had been asked to join the Community Team. I was essentially being tested, to see if <i>any</i> non-technical person could actually "make" it on the team. Frankly, knowing this wouldn't have changed anything. I wanted to do well on the team because <i>it was better for the company</i>. I gave it my best because it deserved my best. That's really all.</p>
<p>I won't pretend that hearing I passed wasn't a bit of a boost, though, haha.</p>
<p><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/0ggV1.jpg" /><br>Success Kid knows my feelings.</center></p>
<p>I will say that there have been more than a few upsides to being a community manager. I have a universal diamond, now, and my words/decisions hold a certain amount of real power. The flipside is that I don't feel substantially different in my reach now than when I was with CHAOS. The difference is entirely perceptual; I think people <i>see me</i> differently now that I'm a CM, which is kind of hard to swallow. I'm the same person with the same abilities as before; I just happen to have the moderator demarcation beside my name now. It's like I changed my hairstyle and suddenly got a lot more respect.</p>
<p>That said, over the past several months, I think my own <strike>bitching</strike> none-too-gentle pushes have forced the team to move into what I feel is a more productive direction. We've changed a lot of things about our workflow to help, and I think this team is more willing to take risks with how we make things happen.</p>
<p>There have definitely been problems. I soon realized that one of my colleagues and I were phosphorous and water -- not exactly the most functional combination. There have also been huge changes internally, personnel changes that have a long-reaching effect on how we run ourselves. I've had a lot of trouble with workaholism, which in turn impacted my personal life. I've also had ethical dilemmas in some of the choices I've made. It's been a really varied six months, honestly.</p>
<p>I love working with our moderator staff, but at the end of the day it can feel really isolating to realize that I'm a non-technical person in the middle of a huge crowd of technical people. Community Team is mostly former developers hired on for an interpersonal role. Our moderator staff is a reflection of our largely-developer audience (and thus, in turn, mostly developers themselves). As a CM, I interact with our dev team fairly regularly.</p>
<p>And yet, people are still people. I've quickly realized that I'm at my best when I'm helping someone through a problem. I <i>like</i> helping our moderator staff. I hate it when they break down due to frustration or stress or sheer dissatisfaction, and I don't mind taking on that emotional burden. Oddly, for someone who is generally really terrible at dealing with "all the crying women," I can manage a mod meltdown without feeling overwhelmed. Weirdly, I became "the one with all the feelings" even though I honestly was never that person ever before. (My friends in college joked that I was "dead inside" for a reason.)</p>
<p><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/XePpz.gif" /><br>Hugs!</center></p>
<p>Ultimately, I'm just happy to be the person that the team needs. If the mod staff needs a Team Mom, then I'll be that person. If Community Team needs to prove that non-technical people can come onboard and be okay, I'll be the guinea pig. I'm reasonably versatile and, at the end of the day, I want to make an impact in our work. If that means taking on a role that's unusual, so be it.</p>
<p>Tomorrow I'll talk about some of the things that I need/want from this team moving forward, and where I hope the team will be in a year from now.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10305059690415274467noreply@blogger.com0