While I know everyone on your networks enjoys the good ol' selfie, I am here to tell you that there is more to social networking than your mirror shot, tilted head, and coiffed hair. But, I know you know that already. Or you don't, and seriously, thank goodness you're reading this.
A while back, I was in a bad situation - recently laid off from my first job out of college. I was devastated. People, myself mostly, had put high expectations on my success. Ya, ya, ya, I'm a Millennial. I did expect great things. I had (some) confidence, a degree, and an untapped network.
The thing about Social Networking is that we view it differently from our regular relationships, and that's where we have it wrong. Relationships require maintenance. And that's no different from your social presence. Your acquaintances and "friends" on Facebook are a connection that could lead to an opportunity, and if you aren't feeding your network, they will flounder.
The good news? Social Media is an introvert's paradise.
Social Media allows you to manage your relationships with little investment. Now, don't take this the wrong way. When I interact with you on my social properties, I genuinely mean it. But it's easier for me to network online because, believe it or not, I'm an introvert at heart. When I attend conferences, at the end of the day I'm sitting in my room staring at the wall in complete silence while I catch up with myself. I'm pissy, touchy, and unmanageable if I don't get my wall time.
Back to my bad situation. We moved to Portland for my husband's job and I was left blogging, and working part time at an event company. That's when something amazing happened. My social network moved me. I got the job I have now because I managed my social network.
Before I get into tips, how about the why? When people tell me they get really picky about their LinkedIn connections, I get a little skeptical. How in the world do you know where you'll be 10 years from now? We all have plans, but as my story showed, it certainly didn't go the way I wanted it to.
Networking, social networking, is about planning for the unexpected. Here's how:
1) Be Genuine. Seriously. Don't "like" the picture of my daughter if you hate babies. Here's why: if you're fake in your actions, you'll build a network of people with different values. And that's only going to harm you in the long run. You won't have common conversation points, and people won't understand you. Be genuine. Interact with people who share your interests.
2) Small Interactions are Pivotal. People are compulsive, selfish, and lack confidence. And that's just the predictable parts. They want to know that someone is listening. (hint hint). Think that people don't notice when you like their status update? Wrong. They notice. And they care. Become a consistent presence in their life by commenting, liking, and sharing their content.
3) Do Favors. Chris Matthews (Hardball) had it right. What have you done for me lately? And the last thing you'll ever hear from me is to do them with an expectation. Do them because (hopefully) you're a genuine person and you enjoy doing them. The payback will come, just don't expect it to come the way you think it will.
4) Be Consistent: Don't disappear for months at a time. Don't assume that because things are going your way now, that they will always be that way and ignore your network. I'm not saying you have to post everyday. Because, trust me, I know I'm certainly not that interesting.
5) Make Common Sense More Common: Guys/People/Gals. This is the tip that I actually struggle with the most because it's really difficult to define. But I'm going to try. (because I said I'd give you five tips...) You'll hear people say to keep your social networks professional. I'm going to throw caution to the air and say be real instead. We idolize "professionals" because we think they have their shit together. But I'll tell you now, Employers don't hire professionals, they hire personalities that fit within their culture. And if your bad professional self is too cut and dry, that's the environment you're going to get, and it won't make you happy. Here's the difficult part: be real to a point. If you're a casual drinker, it's okay to put a picture of you having a beer with your friends up on your networks. But if you're an "overly" casual drinker - let's avoid the binge drinking pictures that end up with smeared permanent marker across our faces. Okay? Okay.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Friday, September 20, 2013
My Unfortunate Favorite Memory
We were living in Portland at the time, Taylor was approximately 6 months old. We were fully overwhelmed as parents, but taking it in stride. Oh yeah, and it was Mother's Day. My first Mother's Day.
Let me let you in on a little secret before I begin. As a parent, planning is everything but also nothing. You can work your ass off to ensure the little one gets a three hour nap - but maybe that day they decided to keep you on your toes and took three twenty minute naps (if you're lucky).
It's when the stars align that you really feel like you have your shit together. The problem is that the stars aligning is terribly misleading, and what was thought of as competence was actually luck. The saying "Luck counts, but don't count on luck" has become an ingrained motto since Taylor was born.
But back to the memory. We were sitting outside of Wetzel's Pretzels, salivating over the smell of freshly baked dough while deciding on what exactly we were supposed to do next. You see, it was coming on 4 pm. We could:
a) Leave for home then (this mall was approximately 45 minutes away from our house) OR
b) Eat dinner at the mall, knowing that we were coming into Tay's witching hour and risk it anyway
While we were deciding, Taylor decided to take it upon herself to be incredibly cute. You've all seen her pictures. It's a common occurrence. She started squealing.
And holy crap did we become the most obnoxious parents ever. Not only did we encourage the behavior, but we started making the sound back, much to the chagrin of every other person in the mall. We didn't care. We were playing with the cutest baby in the world.
Here's the kicker: this isn't my favorite part of my favorite memory. It's what happened at dinner.
What happened at dinner, you ask?
Nothing.
Nothing happened at dinner.
Chris and I got to eat our first meal together, while Taylor stared innocently at the wall, cooing, babbling, and being 100% content to do 100% nothing. We got to be a couple, instead of a family.
That's why I call this my unfortunate favorite memory. It's because we all experience these moments in time that we repeat in our heads saying, "I really want to remember this moment" - and months down the road, we don't. (It's one of the reasons I blog). I'm not sure that I would always want to admit that this was one of my favorite memories.
Instead we are left with nasty memories, random moments, and something that you didn't really think was that important.
But reflecting on this particular moment, I've come to realize that it meant much more than I thought it would. Because being a parent is about balance. It's balancing Lindsey as a mom, Lindsey as a wife, and Lindsey as Lindsey. And this memory, this dinner, shows me that it's all possible.
Let me let you in on a little secret before I begin. As a parent, planning is everything but also nothing. You can work your ass off to ensure the little one gets a three hour nap - but maybe that day they decided to keep you on your toes and took three twenty minute naps (if you're lucky).
It's when the stars align that you really feel like you have your shit together. The problem is that the stars aligning is terribly misleading, and what was thought of as competence was actually luck. The saying "Luck counts, but don't count on luck" has become an ingrained motto since Taylor was born.
But back to the memory. We were sitting outside of Wetzel's Pretzels, salivating over the smell of freshly baked dough while deciding on what exactly we were supposed to do next. You see, it was coming on 4 pm. We could:
a) Leave for home then (this mall was approximately 45 minutes away from our house) OR
b) Eat dinner at the mall, knowing that we were coming into Tay's witching hour and risk it anyway
While we were deciding, Taylor decided to take it upon herself to be incredibly cute. You've all seen her pictures. It's a common occurrence. She started squealing.
And holy crap did we become the most obnoxious parents ever. Not only did we encourage the behavior, but we started making the sound back, much to the chagrin of every other person in the mall. We didn't care. We were playing with the cutest baby in the world.
Here's the kicker: this isn't my favorite part of my favorite memory. It's what happened at dinner.
What happened at dinner, you ask?
Nothing.
Nothing happened at dinner.
Chris and I got to eat our first meal together, while Taylor stared innocently at the wall, cooing, babbling, and being 100% content to do 100% nothing. We got to be a couple, instead of a family.
That's why I call this my unfortunate favorite memory. It's because we all experience these moments in time that we repeat in our heads saying, "I really want to remember this moment" - and months down the road, we don't. (It's one of the reasons I blog). I'm not sure that I would always want to admit that this was one of my favorite memories.
Instead we are left with nasty memories, random moments, and something that you didn't really think was that important.
But reflecting on this particular moment, I've come to realize that it meant much more than I thought it would. Because being a parent is about balance. It's balancing Lindsey as a mom, Lindsey as a wife, and Lindsey as Lindsey. And this memory, this dinner, shows me that it's all possible.
Monday, September 16, 2013
"I'm horrible at writing."
No, really. I love short sentences. I love putting little thoughts in parenthesis (because who doesn't want to hear my side notes?) I jump around from thought to thought. I expect (or hope) that my readers will follow what I'm saying (but if they take their own thing away, then I'm still satisfied). I love the power of threes. And I try to start at least five sentences with and in one post. Oh, and I love white space.
See what I mean?
Sometimes I think I missed my calling. I absolutely love what I do, but there is something that drives me to greater passion. And that is to disabuse the title of this blog.
I mean, you're still reading, aren't you? I can't be that awful, can I?
I can't tell you how many times I hear this in response to my declaration of authorship; English major; literary conquests. And I'll be honest - it literary breaks my heart. (see what I did there?)
I don't blame you. Our harshest critics are the voices in our heads. I am constantly arguing with mine, bouncing from over confidence, to "meh", to anguish. As dad says, "on my best days, I am 51% sure of myself". But I digress.
You are an amazing author. Do you want to know why? Because what makes a writer a good writer is shared experience, not perfection. We are communal creatures, and our greatest fears are simultaneously the fear of rejection and the fear of loneliness. We want to share our feelings because we want to know that we aren't alone in them.
But our fear of rejection prevents us from sharing experience.
A writer need not follow the rules. What a writer needs more than "writing" ability is courage.
See what I mean?
Sometimes I think I missed my calling. I absolutely love what I do, but there is something that drives me to greater passion. And that is to disabuse the title of this blog.
I mean, you're still reading, aren't you? I can't be that awful, can I?
I can't tell you how many times I hear this in response to my declaration of authorship; English major; literary conquests. And I'll be honest - it literary breaks my heart. (see what I did there?)
I don't blame you. Our harshest critics are the voices in our heads. I am constantly arguing with mine, bouncing from over confidence, to "meh", to anguish. As dad says, "on my best days, I am 51% sure of myself". But I digress.
You are an amazing author. Do you want to know why? Because what makes a writer a good writer is shared experience, not perfection. We are communal creatures, and our greatest fears are simultaneously the fear of rejection and the fear of loneliness. We want to share our feelings because we want to know that we aren't alone in them.
But our fear of rejection prevents us from sharing experience.
A writer need not follow the rules. What a writer needs more than "writing" ability is courage.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Dad's Advice
"Bachelors degree from a top tiered college required" - Say what?
So it's come to this: The competition between quantifiable smarts to qualitative intelligence.
Those of us in "soft fields" know what I'm talking about. We've heard the snickers in response to our "English" admissions. And we've rolled our eyes over the question "What are you going to do with your major?" (I'll admit, it was because I literally had no idea when I first graduated, and it was a stalling technique). And now, not only are we judged by our degree, but by where we got it.
It's not a new development - just more pronounced. The Silicon Valley culture of start-ups has made it so. The influx of programmers, developers, and mathematicians have made it increasingly difficult for us "softies" to break into the world dominated by metrics.
I've experienced this scenario to some degree. I'm a marketer (though I shudder to admit it) with a Liberal Arts background. But my job title is that of an Analyst. How I got from reading Frankenstein (for the third time) to Excel sheets and endless rows of numbers and data, is a different story.
But here's the shocking statement people:
"It's not F=MA that eats your shorts".
Let me explain.
Your CEO was not a straight A student. In fact, most likely, your CEO was the one sitting in the back of the room making connections and networking, with his soft skills.
And I'm here to tell you that these experiences, the networking, the people connections, the charismatic qualities that we develop (or not) are what make us most useful in a professional world.
It's no wonder we have a complex surrounding our value - if we are only as good as our pedigree.
But here's a message to my fellow Liberal Artists and "normal tier" college graduates - it's experience that defines you. And that happens everywhere- not just at prestigious institutions.
So it's come to this: The competition between quantifiable smarts to qualitative intelligence.
Those of us in "soft fields" know what I'm talking about. We've heard the snickers in response to our "English" admissions. And we've rolled our eyes over the question "What are you going to do with your major?" (I'll admit, it was because I literally had no idea when I first graduated, and it was a stalling technique). And now, not only are we judged by our degree, but by where we got it.
It's not a new development - just more pronounced. The Silicon Valley culture of start-ups has made it so. The influx of programmers, developers, and mathematicians have made it increasingly difficult for us "softies" to break into the world dominated by metrics.
I've experienced this scenario to some degree. I'm a marketer (though I shudder to admit it) with a Liberal Arts background. But my job title is that of an Analyst. How I got from reading Frankenstein (for the third time) to Excel sheets and endless rows of numbers and data, is a different story.
But here's the shocking statement people:
"It's not F=MA that eats your shorts".
Let me explain.
Your CEO was not a straight A student. In fact, most likely, your CEO was the one sitting in the back of the room making connections and networking, with his soft skills.
And I'm here to tell you that these experiences, the networking, the people connections, the charismatic qualities that we develop (or not) are what make us most useful in a professional world.
It's no wonder we have a complex surrounding our value - if we are only as good as our pedigree.
But here's a message to my fellow Liberal Artists and "normal tier" college graduates - it's experience that defines you. And that happens everywhere- not just at prestigious institutions.
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