Like most writers, I have a day job. Unlike some, I don’t see it as a totally
necessary evil; It’s necessary, but not evil. In fact, I consider myself luckier than most when
it comes to the “writer with a day job” moniker. It’s not just an 8-5-er that’s complete void
of writing. My aspiration towards writing
perfectly lends itself to my day job as a job coach.
As a job coach, it is my responsibility to assist people with
bettering their employment options. My
co-workers and I call this ultimate goal “tier to tier movement”. Though it vaguely sounds like a video game
term, this phrase refers to the act of bettering one’s current situation. In most cases, this means finding a job when
one is unemployed. In some, it means
finding a better job than their current one.
As with any trade, there’s a multitude of tricks and stratagems
that can be employed to help clients achieve their goals: Resume building,
interview practice, training plans, job search assistance, etc. Another important tool I use is teaching clients
how not to be an irrevocable piece of shit human being, which is a notion, and
I can’t stress this enough, that is very important to develop when you’re
trying to convince a hiring manager to literally pay you to be around other
people.
Collectively, this all feeds into one important truth that I
think most people aren’t aware of:
You’re telling a story, and it needs to be a damn good one.
In fiction, we want to conjure an emotional response in our
readers. It’s the ultimate benchmark for
a writer. That, and also the act of
receiving money for said services being rendered. Because, ya’know, bills. And drugs.
In my primary occupation, the story they craft needs to
answer questions that they won’t be able to address directly until the interview:
Is this person reliable? Do they have
the appropriate skills? Will they steal
my lettuce wrapped, ginger-fused tuna sandwiches? Do they find spiritual and emotional serenity
when they hurl staplers at anyone in close proximity?
The employer will hobble together said narrative through
several individual pieces of information and base their important decisions on
what they construct. They pull these
pieces of the puzzle from your cover letter, resume, application, social media
presence, background checks, credit checks (yes, some employers do that),
googling your name, and references. In fact, the act of looking for jobs can
essentially be seen as a product of transmedia storytelling. However, even one of these individual parts
can have undeniable influence and be greater than the sum of the parts, leading
to a not-so-desirable result. Do you think
about the bigger consequences your Facebook status updates can have when you
post such controversial statements such as “Capitalism has murdered democracy”,
or “Every single Disney live action remake is better than the animated originals,
come at me brah!”?
So what role do I play in this story building? Well, that’s the fun part. And by fun, I mean the opposite because
sarcastic tones don’t work that well on print.
It involves, conceptually, prompting and maintaining a back-and-forth
dialogue with dialectical underpinnings regardless of how vehement the
interaction might become. I think the term
clashing is the most succinct way to put it.
Before we can build their story, we need to unpack and take
stock of their skills, history, and accomplishments. As is the case in the game of Operation, the
process of withdrawing vital information can cause a lot of yelling and other
inarticulate sounds. But I never get
angry about them. When was the last time
you the fond experience of being grilled with personal question after question
for 30+ minutes? If you’ve ever
experienced this, you were probably in a less-than-stellar situation and wanted
to leave immediately. That’s what I have
to essentially evoke here, at first.
However, through persistent (and sometimes irksome)
questioning, you can a slow, methodical realization take shape in their expressions.
They internally reconcile their old
beliefs in job searching and realize they need a new, fresher approach. And once that crux has been reached, it’s the
most rewarding part of my day job….. no, my career.
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