There was a time when most travel happened by train. People would pack their bags, buy a ticket and settle in for a long journey to a far away destination. On a train, you can't stop off for a scenic jaunt, exploring the towns that are blurring by. The train takes you where you want to go with no variation. And you know you will get there because it is on the tracks.
But why do we think our careers would be the same?
This concept of a "career track" is about as antiquated as train travel. In Josh Boldt's article "The Ph.D. Needs CPR," the concept of refocusing "the Ph.D. degree on other career paths" in order to make it "relevant again." While I agree with everything else he shares in this article, this statement gives me pause. Because, from my experience:
1. there is no such thing as a career track
2. PhDs are already relevant
The idea that the people in careers outside of academy have degrees in those areas is a falsehood. Granted, you probably want a degreed and trained person in medicine, but in the vast majority of corporate positions, places where the concept of career tracks flourished in their hay day, the people holding them have degrees unrelated to the role. People aren't boxcars on a track; they are loud and chaotic cars, driving along freeways, side streets and sometimes on barely cleared dirt roads.
Instead of tracks, we need to provide PhDs with maps to these roads and guideposts along the way.
Which takes me to my next point: relevance. I often joke that I have a $40k acronym. I say this because I often feel like that's all my PhD has been for: a few initials behind my name. But that isn't true. Earning my PhD helped me in many areas: it taught me how to be an independent thinker, how to be self driven, and how to facilitate a discussion, skills I use every day. The university of Michigan has a list of others skills PhDs acquire that they can leverage in the corporate world, including navigating complex bureaucratic environments and understanding and synthesizing large quantities of data. Is it a hard and direct line to roles outside of academia? No. But you are not starting from zero.
With relevant and useful skills and a map in hand,there is no place you can't go. Colleges themselves are seeing this too. " For liberal arts colleges and those of us who believe in the importance of a well-rounded education, the whole idea of assuming an inherent connection between major choice and career seems problematic. Not only are there plenty of majors that don’t have a natural correlate on the job market (e.g., philosophy majors come to mind), but we are also regularly bombarded with the claims that individuals in today’s world will hold multiple jobs in multiple professions over the course of their working careers." says Mark on the blog Delicious Ambiguity, I have seen this at play throughout my non-academic career, having met linguists, anthropologists and even a Russian lit major working among the MBAs and communications majors.
My point is that careers are not simple, single lines. They change and evolve with you. So, as you begin your journey of leaving academia, I ask that you let go of the tracks and embrace the road ahead to see where it takes you.
Friday, March 14, 2014
It Gets Better: the #postac version
I have been reading a lot of posts, articles, and blogs from those of you going through the transition I went through 15 years ago, and can deeply relate to the hurt, sadness, and anger many of you are feeling. I want to share some of my experiences on the other side of this transition to try and help take some of the mystery out of the equation. Just as the It Gets Better movement has done for LGBT kids, I want you to know that it can get better for postacs too. Having gone through this change and knowing what life can be like on the other side, I share the fears iI had out of a feeling of solidarity and caring, knowing how difficult the transition you are making can be.
Fear #1: I will regret my decision.
Will you have doubts? Yes. Will you question yourself? Absolutely! But, the thing about leaving an adjunct position behind is that it will always be there for you if you want it back. Maybe not that exact job, but I am pretty confident that, should you change your mind, you can get back on the treadmill. This has taken the regret out of the equation for me.
Fear #2: I won't fit in.
At first, you will feel like a bit of an outsider, at least I did. But what I know now is that it wasn't because I was a former academic. It was because I was new to the company. Once I started working with people, finding things in common with others, I began making friendships. And if you are thoughtful about picking the right cultural fit (which I will be writing about in a future post), this will be even easier for you.
Fear #3: I will hate it.
There will be days when you hate your job, but if there aren't days that you hate academia, you probably wouldn't be reading this. Your job search will be critical for you to make sure that you don't land in something you hate. The difference here is that you will have a lot more options than you have today. And, if you do end up hating it, you can always change jobs later.
Fear #4: I will be judged as a quitter.
To quote my favorite intellectual, RuPaul, "what other people think about you is none of your business." If someone judges you because of your career choices, are they really someone you want to spend your time worrying about?
Fear #5: I will feel like a quitter.
Many, many, many of you are talking about "quitting." I want you to STOP THAT RIGHT NOW! You aren't a quitter; you are a strong and intelligent person who had insight into the facts, weighed the options and are deciding to pursue other interests. You aren't quitting; you are GROWING! And, once you land that job and see how people appreciate you and call you "whip smart," you will see how much you are growing.
A teen posted on the It Gets Better website that coming out "was really hard but I made sure that I surrounded myself with people that I knew I could trust." I hope you see her as a brave inspiration. You are also part of a movement and a community of postacs, and, like the It Gets Better campaign, we should harness "the power of an ever-growing chorus of voices that banded together to share messages of positivity." There are many people to support and help you. You are not alone.
Fear #1: I will regret my decision.
Will you have doubts? Yes. Will you question yourself? Absolutely! But, the thing about leaving an adjunct position behind is that it will always be there for you if you want it back. Maybe not that exact job, but I am pretty confident that, should you change your mind, you can get back on the treadmill. This has taken the regret out of the equation for me.
Fear #2: I won't fit in.
At first, you will feel like a bit of an outsider, at least I did. But what I know now is that it wasn't because I was a former academic. It was because I was new to the company. Once I started working with people, finding things in common with others, I began making friendships. And if you are thoughtful about picking the right cultural fit (which I will be writing about in a future post), this will be even easier for you.
Fear #3: I will hate it.
There will be days when you hate your job, but if there aren't days that you hate academia, you probably wouldn't be reading this. Your job search will be critical for you to make sure that you don't land in something you hate. The difference here is that you will have a lot more options than you have today. And, if you do end up hating it, you can always change jobs later.
Fear #4: I will be judged as a quitter.
To quote my favorite intellectual, RuPaul, "what other people think about you is none of your business." If someone judges you because of your career choices, are they really someone you want to spend your time worrying about?
Fear #5: I will feel like a quitter.
Many, many, many of you are talking about "quitting." I want you to STOP THAT RIGHT NOW! You aren't a quitter; you are a strong and intelligent person who had insight into the facts, weighed the options and are deciding to pursue other interests. You aren't quitting; you are GROWING! And, once you land that job and see how people appreciate you and call you "whip smart," you will see how much you are growing.
A teen posted on the It Gets Better website that coming out "was really hard but I made sure that I surrounded myself with people that I knew I could trust." I hope you see her as a brave inspiration. You are also part of a movement and a community of postacs, and, like the It Gets Better campaign, we should harness "the power of an ever-growing chorus of voices that banded together to share messages of positivity." There are many people to support and help you. You are not alone.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Custom is King
We have all seen the resume writing advice of customizing your resume to match the role you are interested in. I realize this sounds like a lot of work, so I wanted to help explain WHY it is important to help you decide how best to approach it. It’s best to think about this from the perspective of all of the people who will be reviewing your resume.
- Robots: as I shared on a recent tweet, the robots are watching. Before your resume can even get into the hands of a recruiter, let alone a hiring manager, they often get scrubbed and scanned by an Applicant Tracking System, or ATS. In order for these systems to work, the key words and titles to look for are entered in, often based on the job description itself. According to this infographic, 75% of candidates are screened out before a human touches it. So, if you don’t have the specific keywords they are looking for, the robots will make it nearly impossible for you to make it through this first cut. The best way to know what words they are looking for is to literally copy them from the job description exactly as written.
- Recruiters: chances are, the next person to review your resume will be an internal or external recruiter. In many cases, this person knows very little about the role or department you will be working in, so they will now know nuances or be able to extrapolate how skills connect unless they are written in the exact same way as the job description itself. This person’s job is to weed out candidates, not look into your description and try to make it fit. So, you need to make your qualifications for the job super simple to understand. The job description calls for project management experience, you list project management in your experience.
- Hiring Managers: Once a hiring manager gets your resume, they will be looking for the skills that are important to them. Guess what? Since they more than likely wrote the job description, the qualifications and experiences they included in it are what they value. Beyond that, so is the story your resume is telling them about what you have done elsewhere and why it will add value for their team. Customizing your resume not only ensures nothing is lost in translation, but it reflects that you care enough about getting the position to spend the time to make it matter.
- Interview Panels: Now, because you are awesome, you have an interview. You go in to meet various people to help share how you are best qualified to join the team. And what do they all have a copy of? Your resume! Like the hiring manager, they are going to be looking for the specific strengths you will be bringing to the team, so having the details included here will be important. And, as before, it also shows that you really want to work there, which is important for them to see. They want to know that you are going to be a great new coworker, who is as excited about working for their company as they are. So take the time to show them that by customizing your resume story!
Monday, March 10, 2014
No-nos I have stepped in
As an academic, I was paid to share my opinion, to be open and honest about my point of view and defend it adamantly. I did not realize how different this would be for me when moving to the private sector since I did not know anyone from that world.
Now that I have refocused on the post-academic world, I want to share some mistakes I made in the past 15 years so you can avoid these pitfalls.
No-No Number 1: Never discuss money.
My first day of my first corporate job, the team went out to lunch as a welcome. In the car, I mentioned something but how excited I was to get this contract because it was so much more than I made teaching (a big no-no out of the gate). Someone asked how much, and I answered. Two days later, my manger asked me if I had shared that because now someone was asking for a raise. She was speechless when I answered yes. Whoops!
Why is this an issue? A couple reasons. Unlike public-sector jobs, salary and pay are very private in the corporate world. Sharing your information can back fire in two ways: 1) it could piss someone off because they make less than you or 2) you could pissed off because you make less. This can cause animosity between people and on a team. It is just better not to know.
Secondly, discussing money with your boss or anyone else makes it look like that's all you care about. "We'll, duh, that's why I am getting a post-academic job!" might be your response. But, while true, companies want to feel that you are coming to work for them because they are awesome. I know it sounds crazy, but the money is supposed to be a side benefit. Remember, these are folks who have been out of school for a long time and who, in many ways, love their job and/or employer. They want you to feel the same way. Instead of talking about money, discuss "learning opportunities" and "challenging work." It's just easier that way.
No-No Number 2: Dress the Part
When working as a contractor, my manager at the time hooked me up with an interview. I asked her what I should wear, and she said to dress the part. I thought about it and showed up in my cutest outfit, ready and excited to talk to them: sandals, jeans, the whole thing. She took one look at me and said, "don't you have an interview?" Whoops!
As an academic, I was pretty casual in my dress, so I did not understand what was expected for a job interview and was pretty naive. What I know now is you always dress up. It doesnt matter if they have a business casual environment. A suit is essential.* You want to look like you are taking them seriously, that getting the role is important to you. So look like it is.
No-No Number 3: The Private is the Public
Posting on Facebook about the ins and outs of work may seem like a good idea to share with you friends and family. At a prior employer, I was posting about a successful meeting I had, and as a snarky, smart-ass, made a few asides. A few weeks later, my manager was asking me about it. Out of context, I looked like a grade A a-hole. Whoops!
First off, I made my Facebook settings private (duh), but I also never post anything negative about an employer, no matter what I am feeling at the time. Even if I feel like I don't care about the current situation, future potential employers will see this as a reflection of your professionalism and may have concerns that you would do the same to them. So, be careful and stay classy.
My advice may sound like I am suggesring you not be yourself. Far from it! There is a fine line between being professional and being myself. I have a pretty strong personality and know I would be miserable at a company that doesn't appreciate the fun and quirky style I bring to the team. I have left companies because this wasn't valued. I know who I am and want to work some place that appreciate me. I just wish I would have known about a few no-nos before I stepped into them.
For more advice on what to do (& what not to do, check out the post-ac conversation at theprofessorisin
*if you are applying for a fashion company, where something that fits with their style (and has their brand).
Now that I have refocused on the post-academic world, I want to share some mistakes I made in the past 15 years so you can avoid these pitfalls.
No-No Number 1: Never discuss money.
My first day of my first corporate job, the team went out to lunch as a welcome. In the car, I mentioned something but how excited I was to get this contract because it was so much more than I made teaching (a big no-no out of the gate). Someone asked how much, and I answered. Two days later, my manger asked me if I had shared that because now someone was asking for a raise. She was speechless when I answered yes. Whoops!
Why is this an issue? A couple reasons. Unlike public-sector jobs, salary and pay are very private in the corporate world. Sharing your information can back fire in two ways: 1) it could piss someone off because they make less than you or 2) you could pissed off because you make less. This can cause animosity between people and on a team. It is just better not to know.
Secondly, discussing money with your boss or anyone else makes it look like that's all you care about. "We'll, duh, that's why I am getting a post-academic job!" might be your response. But, while true, companies want to feel that you are coming to work for them because they are awesome. I know it sounds crazy, but the money is supposed to be a side benefit. Remember, these are folks who have been out of school for a long time and who, in many ways, love their job and/or employer. They want you to feel the same way. Instead of talking about money, discuss "learning opportunities" and "challenging work." It's just easier that way.
No-No Number 2: Dress the Part
When working as a contractor, my manager at the time hooked me up with an interview. I asked her what I should wear, and she said to dress the part. I thought about it and showed up in my cutest outfit, ready and excited to talk to them: sandals, jeans, the whole thing. She took one look at me and said, "don't you have an interview?" Whoops!
As an academic, I was pretty casual in my dress, so I did not understand what was expected for a job interview and was pretty naive. What I know now is you always dress up. It doesnt matter if they have a business casual environment. A suit is essential.* You want to look like you are taking them seriously, that getting the role is important to you. So look like it is.
No-No Number 3: The Private is the Public
Posting on Facebook about the ins and outs of work may seem like a good idea to share with you friends and family. At a prior employer, I was posting about a successful meeting I had, and as a snarky, smart-ass, made a few asides. A few weeks later, my manager was asking me about it. Out of context, I looked like a grade A a-hole. Whoops!
First off, I made my Facebook settings private (duh), but I also never post anything negative about an employer, no matter what I am feeling at the time. Even if I feel like I don't care about the current situation, future potential employers will see this as a reflection of your professionalism and may have concerns that you would do the same to them. So, be careful and stay classy.
My advice may sound like I am suggesring you not be yourself. Far from it! There is a fine line between being professional and being myself. I have a pretty strong personality and know I would be miserable at a company that doesn't appreciate the fun and quirky style I bring to the team. I have left companies because this wasn't valued. I know who I am and want to work some place that appreciate me. I just wish I would have known about a few no-nos before I stepped into them.
For more advice on what to do (& what not to do, check out the post-ac conversation at theprofessorisin
*if you are applying for a fashion company, where something that fits with their style (and has their brand).
Thursday, March 6, 2014
How I Left Academia: A Recovering Academic's Introduction
My name is Allessandria, and I am a recovering academic.
Not a lot of my coworkers know this about me. They don't know that I once spent hours on end reading about the trials and tribulations of 18 year olds, filling the margins of papers with phrases like "tell me more" or "show don't tell." They don't know that there is a difference between a degree in Poetry and Literature, and that the decision to pursue the Literature PhD was because it seemed like the more realistic thing to do. They don't understand the fear of opening envelopes from literary magazines, hoping for their approval, the dread of another conference entry proposal, and the fact that someone would put all of their bets on the slim chance of landing a tenure-track position.
It is just this dream I was going after when I moved my husband and myself to Texas in 1995. We were the only ones to move away from our home town and were full of excitement. I had recently left a very supportive department, where I won the graduate dean's medal and had started a literary criticism magazine for our campus. I had presented my first conference paper with a close friend of mine and was feeling like, despite the odds, I was going to get through this doctorate program in a tidy 3 years and move on to some romanticized college town where we would live happily ever after.
And then I began my doctorate program.
A few things happened that dampened my dreams by shedding a harsh light on the future I had signed up for. First off, I had the opportunity to participate in a candidate search as a student representative. This provided great insight into the whole process.... And I found it to be extremely intimidating and staggeringly unfair. We interviewed some amazing candidates, but the department made an offer to a man who, while greatly talented in his field, tried to pick up on the student driving him to the airport (& who ultimately only lasted a few years in the actual position). This disappointed me greatly, but I failed to be discouraged.
The biggest thing that led me to changing paths was the fact that I could not get classes over the summer and had to find other employment. I landed a temp job as a legal assistant reading construction documents for an asbestos case, which was as boring as it sounds. I had to read through boxes and boxes of construction-related documents, flagging anything that referenced asbestos, and then copy and file them. Standing at the copier, the warm light flashing out in some dusky basement, I vowed I would never take another soul-sucking job again. All of my friends who taught technical writing had classes, so I decided this would be my next move.
It was this decision that forever changed the course of my future.
Teaching technical writing allowed me to get a spot a few summers later as a temp for a local telecom company's training department. I had successfully completed all of my coursework and passed my oral exams, at this point, and was gearing up for a solid year of working on my dissertation. A friend of mine was getting married and asked if I could fill in for him as a technical writer for a communications and training team working on the implementation of a system called SAP. I didn't know what any of these things were. I did know, however, that I was going to make more in an hour than I did in a day teaching, so I snatched up the opportunity.
Having until then only worked as an instructor, tutor or book store sales person (my brief stints as a legal assistant and laundromat attendant aside), I had never been exposed to the world of business. This was a magical land full of team meetings and group emails. It was a world of deadlines and collaborative discussions. There were bosses and lunches and changes in direction. People said things like alignment, synergy, and at the end of the day. Acronyms were used with a blithe lack of irony. There were cubicles and ID badges.
I loved it.
I kept teaching a few of my classes that fall while continuing to work part-time. I was beginning to make friends in the office, to understand what they were talking about. I thought I had the perfect gig. I could teach a little, work a little, and still make progress on my dissertation. I encouraged my husband to quit his job so he could finish his degree (after supporting me for 6 years, I thought he deserved it). It was only a few months in that I experienced one of the biggest things people worry about in the private sector. I was getting laid off.
This change forced me to stop straddling both worlds and to make a decision. When I went to discuss this with my dissertation director (who was unhappy in her department and beginning another tenure-track search of her own, I was later to learn), she said that academia wasn't for everyone and perhaps it was good that I leave. On one hand, I was gutted. On the other hand, I was terrified, not because she said it was a good idea but because, in explaining what I was going to do, it was clear to me she had no idea what I was talking about.
In fact, no one in my inner circle had a clue what I was going through. No one I knew worked in a corporate position. I had a family of educators and government employees. I was on my own, searching for postings online for tech writers and course developers. I dealt with people who thought having a PhD meant you "didn't know how to work" or that it made you "too stuffy and unapproachable." And I made a lot of mistakes.
But I finally landed a job editing and then writing training materials. This evolved into a job teaching these classes, which turned into a position leading a project team of developers and trainers. I traveled the world, I learned about business systems, I made friends and grew my résumé, all while I continued to write my dissertation. This process was not easy. My dissertation director dropped me, I was disconnected from campus (having both stopped teaching and moved closer to work), and no one seemed interested in seeing me finish. I did finish, though.
It was surreal going into work after having defended my dissertation and officially earning those three letters. I knew it was a great accomplishment but no one around me could understand it. I didn't know how to translate this work, the thing I had devoted so much time to, into something meaningful in my new world. To be honest, I still don't.
One thing I can do, however, is share my experience and help others who would like to learn more about making the transition from an academic path to a corporate one. I can share some of the pitfalls, some of the hardships in the transition, and help others navigate through the process.
It is not easy. These are very different worlds, with different languages, ways of working, and expectations. I am here to say, however, that it can be done. That you can find a way to add value to the world, to feel fulfilled, outside of the college campus.
One step at a time.
Not a lot of my coworkers know this about me. They don't know that I once spent hours on end reading about the trials and tribulations of 18 year olds, filling the margins of papers with phrases like "tell me more" or "show don't tell." They don't know that there is a difference between a degree in Poetry and Literature, and that the decision to pursue the Literature PhD was because it seemed like the more realistic thing to do. They don't understand the fear of opening envelopes from literary magazines, hoping for their approval, the dread of another conference entry proposal, and the fact that someone would put all of their bets on the slim chance of landing a tenure-track position.
It is just this dream I was going after when I moved my husband and myself to Texas in 1995. We were the only ones to move away from our home town and were full of excitement. I had recently left a very supportive department, where I won the graduate dean's medal and had started a literary criticism magazine for our campus. I had presented my first conference paper with a close friend of mine and was feeling like, despite the odds, I was going to get through this doctorate program in a tidy 3 years and move on to some romanticized college town where we would live happily ever after.
And then I began my doctorate program.
A few things happened that dampened my dreams by shedding a harsh light on the future I had signed up for. First off, I had the opportunity to participate in a candidate search as a student representative. This provided great insight into the whole process.... And I found it to be extremely intimidating and staggeringly unfair. We interviewed some amazing candidates, but the department made an offer to a man who, while greatly talented in his field, tried to pick up on the student driving him to the airport (& who ultimately only lasted a few years in the actual position). This disappointed me greatly, but I failed to be discouraged.
The biggest thing that led me to changing paths was the fact that I could not get classes over the summer and had to find other employment. I landed a temp job as a legal assistant reading construction documents for an asbestos case, which was as boring as it sounds. I had to read through boxes and boxes of construction-related documents, flagging anything that referenced asbestos, and then copy and file them. Standing at the copier, the warm light flashing out in some dusky basement, I vowed I would never take another soul-sucking job again. All of my friends who taught technical writing had classes, so I decided this would be my next move.
It was this decision that forever changed the course of my future.
Teaching technical writing allowed me to get a spot a few summers later as a temp for a local telecom company's training department. I had successfully completed all of my coursework and passed my oral exams, at this point, and was gearing up for a solid year of working on my dissertation. A friend of mine was getting married and asked if I could fill in for him as a technical writer for a communications and training team working on the implementation of a system called SAP. I didn't know what any of these things were. I did know, however, that I was going to make more in an hour than I did in a day teaching, so I snatched up the opportunity.
Having until then only worked as an instructor, tutor or book store sales person (my brief stints as a legal assistant and laundromat attendant aside), I had never been exposed to the world of business. This was a magical land full of team meetings and group emails. It was a world of deadlines and collaborative discussions. There were bosses and lunches and changes in direction. People said things like alignment, synergy, and at the end of the day. Acronyms were used with a blithe lack of irony. There were cubicles and ID badges.
I loved it.
I kept teaching a few of my classes that fall while continuing to work part-time. I was beginning to make friends in the office, to understand what they were talking about. I thought I had the perfect gig. I could teach a little, work a little, and still make progress on my dissertation. I encouraged my husband to quit his job so he could finish his degree (after supporting me for 6 years, I thought he deserved it). It was only a few months in that I experienced one of the biggest things people worry about in the private sector. I was getting laid off.
This change forced me to stop straddling both worlds and to make a decision. When I went to discuss this with my dissertation director (who was unhappy in her department and beginning another tenure-track search of her own, I was later to learn), she said that academia wasn't for everyone and perhaps it was good that I leave. On one hand, I was gutted. On the other hand, I was terrified, not because she said it was a good idea but because, in explaining what I was going to do, it was clear to me she had no idea what I was talking about.
In fact, no one in my inner circle had a clue what I was going through. No one I knew worked in a corporate position. I had a family of educators and government employees. I was on my own, searching for postings online for tech writers and course developers. I dealt with people who thought having a PhD meant you "didn't know how to work" or that it made you "too stuffy and unapproachable." And I made a lot of mistakes.
But I finally landed a job editing and then writing training materials. This evolved into a job teaching these classes, which turned into a position leading a project team of developers and trainers. I traveled the world, I learned about business systems, I made friends and grew my résumé, all while I continued to write my dissertation. This process was not easy. My dissertation director dropped me, I was disconnected from campus (having both stopped teaching and moved closer to work), and no one seemed interested in seeing me finish. I did finish, though.
It was surreal going into work after having defended my dissertation and officially earning those three letters. I knew it was a great accomplishment but no one around me could understand it. I didn't know how to translate this work, the thing I had devoted so much time to, into something meaningful in my new world. To be honest, I still don't.
One thing I can do, however, is share my experience and help others who would like to learn more about making the transition from an academic path to a corporate one. I can share some of the pitfalls, some of the hardships in the transition, and help others navigate through the process.
It is not easy. These are very different worlds, with different languages, ways of working, and expectations. I am here to say, however, that it can be done. That you can find a way to add value to the world, to feel fulfilled, outside of the college campus.
One step at a time.
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