My last job found me. A recruiter who was working with the company saw a LinkedIn post, checked out my blog and my profile and reached out. I had been checking job boards and going to networking events for months but none of that caused the recruiter to find me. I had never heard of the company but the recruiter was right: it was a great fit.
The job before that, I did all the things experts told me to do: I checked the job boards, I worked my resume to death, I networked and networked and networked, meeting tons of people who worked at companies I had not interest in, and didn’t care if I ever saw again. None of those things worked.
Finally, I called someone in my network – a rep for a company that my previous company had made purchases from, a woman I liked and admired. I mentioned that I was looking. She told me to reach out to a partner of theirs. I started work the following Tuesday.
The company before that, I was a customer. I got in a conversation with an employee about their product. She suggested that I should work there and that the manager was actively interviewing people that day. At the time, it was my dream job. If she hadn’t pushed me, I wouldn’t have applied.
The one before that, I was a customer and then saw they were hiring.
And it’s not just me.
My husband would tell you that he is introverted. He works from home, alone, most days. He rarely goes out and can count the people he calls friends on one hand. He often complains that I want to turn small groups into parties. An invitation to a wedding or party where he won’t know many people throws him into a panic: he says he pictures himself sitting alone or not knowing what to say.
My husband found his last job because a former boss recommended him for it.
The job before that, he was complaining to a former colleague who said, “Well, we’re hiring, come work for us.”
The job before that, a high-school buddy hired him.
The job before that, a former colleague had gotten a new job at the company and recommended him.
The job before that, he was a customer first and then saw they were hiring.
The job before that, one of his customers transferred their loyalty to a different company, and recommended him for a job there.
The job before that, he was again a customer first then saw they were hiring.
Do you see the pattern?
Online job postings have made it too easy to think that’s the way we’re going to find a job. But is it really working? Really?
Maybe for entry-level jobs. (Maybe.) But before we had ATS, newspapers posted help wanted ads, and I never got a job by answering one, not even at entry-level. Oh, maybe an interview for a job that I decided wasn’t my cup of tea after all. Maybe one interview.
My friends are looking for jobs now, too. (Everyone is looking for jobs now, too. It’s the dirty secret in America.) They scour the job boards, apply to multiple jobs per day. Adjust their resumes to make them more ATS-friendly, work on their cover letters, try to be one of the first people to apply. They make it a full-time job.
I don’t know, I’ve never found a job that way.
Oh, I do check the job boards. Faithfully for an hour every morning. And I keep my eye out for new job boards with listings I don’t see anywhere else. Because, after a while, every job board optimizes their algorithm and then even the best boards where I discovered jobs and companies that I’d never heard of before the last time around, look just like the rest. LinkedIn, Indeed, BuiltIn – they all look the same now.
So why do I keep looking at them? I look at the postings to see what skills they are looking for. I look at the companies – have I heard of this one? What do they do? Would I want to work there? Do I know anyone that works there? What’s that job title, what does it do? I look at the salary ranges. And, to keep the DOL happy, I apply to the jobs that fit my criteria. I use it as an opportunity to practice adapting my resume and cover letter. I don’t hold my breath.
When you apply to a job you found on a job board, the numbers are against you.
Instead, I focus on three things:
1. Talking to people.
I reach out to old friends, people I haven’t talked to in a while. People who were my customers. People whose customers I was. People I went to grad school with, the professors. I focus on asking questions: How have they been. What are they doing? I’ve found that when I mention that I’m looking, the conversations shut down.
I go to professional events, OD events, Change Management events. I joined TechWalk, a weekly walking group where I meet people doing interesting things related to tech. Will that help me get a job? Maybe not. (Probably not.) But it’s fun and gets me outdoors and I meet the most interesting people. They do these walks all over the country, all over the world, they’re free and you don’t have to shout over a crowded bar to be heard or buy drinks. I’m not an engineer or a founder, but working with tech folks has been a constant through-line in my career. I get them and enjoy talking with them; I know how they think and can help them translate that to stakeholders (and can translate stakeholders for them). I know how to help them achieve their goals. So I figure I’m qualified to attend TechWalk.
In these walks, I practice talking about my target role, getting better at talking about how it adds value. People ask questions and it makes me think: what are the three main takeaways I got from my grad degree? Do I want to work with start-ups? In which phase of company growth are my skills best applied? What differentiates me from the other people I meet who do what I do?
I also try to be helpful to the people I meet. If they’re new to New York, I answer their questions. I use my experience helping tech folks, I ask questions that help them reflect. I shore them up, if they’ve been looking for awhile and are discouraged. If I like them, I connect with them on LinkedIn and offer up my network (no one ever asks me to connect them to my connections). I look for opportunities to connect people that I’ve met, who share interests with each other, even if those aren’t interests that I share. It’s a way to pay it forward, to help others who need help.
Sometimes I connect with people I meet outside of a networking group, share names of recruiters or other networking groups or jobs that I found that would be right for them but aren’t within my target, get together for “coffee” or lunch. Maybe I’ll make a new friend.
I’m not sure where all the rest of the great networking groups went. I used to go to book launches, product launches. I met someone at a book launch once, I walked up to her because she looked alone. She wasn’t alone, she was waiting for a friend who was working there, someone I had met at another event, it turns out. The two of them were starting a support group and I got invited to join their beta. I made two new friends in that beta, women I still keep in touch with, have dinner with.
Making friends is hard now, especially if you’re an adult, and you don’t “belong” to things. Any chance I have to make a friend, I’m taking it. We could all use more friends – and so can they.
2. I learn.
I go to webinars and explore things that might help me when I have a new job. I take courses to help me understand the world better. I read about people who are doing the kind of work that I’d love to be involved in and I reach out to them to learn more. I listen to podcasts.
My cat loves this.
3. I share.
I post on LinkedIn. I blog. I am starting a podcast, where I interview people who are creating positive change in the world, about how they got started and overcame challenges. How they make it happen. (More on this to come.) I remind myself that this is how that last recruiter found me. Meanwhile, maybe something I say can help someone, light a bulb, inspire them.
Could I do more?
Sure. I tried reaching out to recruiters that a colleague introduced me to – crickets. I have been afraid to reach out to people at my target companies to learn more about them. I could do that. I tried working with a coach: she had grown her business too fast, hit burnout, had to cut her client list, gave me a full refund, and offered to introduce me to other coaches. I interviewed a few and decided that I need to listen to my inner voice rather than pay someone for yet more advice.
Could my LinkedIn profile use freshening up? Probably. It doesn’t seem to be attracting any hits. It’s a constant evolution: try something, see what sticks, adjust and try again. Oh that worked; that didn’t work. Adjust and try again.
I focus on remaining positive. And keep trying. And continue to believe that the right door will open, that the right next job will find me. A job where I can use my skills and experience to help an organization have a positive impact on the world. To improve access to healthcare. To save the environment. To promote reading and learning. To reduce violence. To help children or the elderly navigate a world that doesn’t make sense to them. To make work itself better. A job where I spend time with interesting people that I like and get out of the house and end the day feeling like I got to do what I do best and got stuff done.
A job at a company I’ve probably never heard of… yet…
Sometimes it’s a trial.
My husband, so patient with the process, is supportive. I know he’s stressed by it. When he tells me that I furled an umbrella incorrectly or boiled an egg wrong, I go for a walk. A long walk. Away from him. I know he’s just trying to be helpful. People try to be helpful, give me advice. Some I take. Some I smile and accept, knowing their hearts are in the right place.
Sometimes it gets me down. Days where my calendar is empty and it’s too hot to walk plunge me into despair. I try to force myself to go to a museum or something. Get out of my house, away from the computer, turn off my phone. Read a book. Sometimes it works.
But I’d be dishonest if I didn’t admit that it’s challenging sometimes.
William Bridges, a change management guy, worked with large organizations that were making huge enterprise-level changes. He studied one manufacturer, a company with multiple plants. When they moved those plants abroad, tens of thousands of workers were laid off, thousands of them white collar managers.
Half these managers were given outplacement services, resume advice, support groups. The other half got exactly the same services, plus they were asked to write 20 minutes a day. They could write anything they wanted – fiction, non-fiction, autobiography. They could write, “I hate this stupid journal!” for 20 minutes. It didn’t matter.
Group 2 got hired faster.
So yes, I write. I write at least 20 minutes a day. Sometimes I share what I write with you, if I think it would be helpful. Sometimes I lock it away or burn it afterwards.
So, whatever you’re doing, find a way of creative expression, for 20 minutes a day. Write, draw, sing, do interpretive dance. Something where you can express what you feel about what you’re going through, what your hopes and dreams are. Share it or don’t share it, it doesn’t matter.
Do something new.