Snippets of Etiquette

A few weeks ago I attended an etiquette dinner. When I told my friends, I received either "I've already been to too many etiquette dinners in my life" (this friend hails from the South) and "Is that where they teach you how to use a spoon?" Me to the latter: "Please don't come if that's your attitude."

Anyhow, I will never deny free food and you never know when you'll be dining with an interviewer who's testing how you break your bread (use your hands, not a knife! Did you know that?). Also, I instinctively knew this would make for a snarky blog.

I sat with several friends – ones who had never attended etiquette dinners before (*sigh* northerners) and who had higher expectations than learning how to use a spoon (watchBeauty and the Beast). We were also joined by the Luna Lovegood of the room aka no one knew her and she wore Barbie shoe earrings. Like, actual shoes that belong on a Barbie doll.

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Speed Networking Woes

By Cazey Williams In my life outside blogging, I happen to be events chair for my local alumni chapter. That job entails planning football viewings, happy hours and promoting friend making.

So my event idea was to coerce people who regularly attend our meetings to meet people different than the ones they already know and/or came with. I originally called it “speed dating,” but then decided we weren't trying to market to lusty singles, so let’s go with “speed networking” – because that’s what we’re doing. Except not in the professional sense; or at least that wasn't the primary goal. When I wrote up the event blurb, I put, “Emphasis on social.”

Okay, in hindsight, every name for the event was doomed. Social networking conjures notions of Facebooking and tweeting. Speed dating…well, this isn’t for hapless Valentines. And speed networking – please, keep your business cards in your pocket.

To keep the event lite (misspelled on purpose), I made a bingo sheet for an ice breaker. Each square had something related to our alma mater. I printed out a list of questions stolen from websites meant for both speed dating and networking.

The first person to arrive for the event was in a tan suit and had silver hair. Me internally: Crap. Like, I’m wearing moccasins. I almost wore shorts. We shake hands.

“This is my first event in several years,” Mr. Businessman says.

“What brought you out?”

“The speed networking. I love networking. I’ve been in sales for 16 years.”

“Well,” I think fast, “we’re expecting a mixed crowd, so it’s gonna be a little social, a little professional (not at all, I’m in moccasins). Hopefully you’ll get something out of it.”

“Can’t wait to find out.”

Oh, I can.

People trickle in. The assortment is mixed only by contrast: Me and my moccasins, 23 and in grad school, and everyone else years older and employed – or formerly employed. Gosh, I invited you here to make friends, not get you a job. One of my worst self-critiques is underperforming, and I would say a list of questions that includes “Star Wars or Star Trek?” is underperforming for this crowd.

Of course, the pizza comes out late (yes, we’re hosting this at a pizza parlor; why were you expecting business networking?!). Some people mingle. Others wait for me to prompt this networking. Me: I only have it to make it through an hour before I can drink away this humiliation.

I narrate how this will work, mention “we were expecting a mixed crowd, so I prepared for social and professional networking (so I won’t ask ‘If you were an animal in the wild, what would you be?’),” and try to explain the bingo ice breaker – but some of the older men just don’t get it. Forget it; it’s an ice breaker. I need a megaphone. I’m sweating. No one can hear me. No one knows which way to rotate. People are repeating the opposite of what I said.

The first person I network with is Mr. Businessman. He says he’s been to many networking events. In fact, he specifies: “I teach group networking.” Great. Judge this failed spectacle.

“Well, I’d love to hear what advice you have,” I say. Should I be biting into this pizza while listening? Is that professional? Well, darn it, I’m hungry. “Like, what prompts I should use.” (Because I was going to ask “Who was your favorite superhero when you were little – and how does that relate to your profession?”)

Once I collected comment cards at the end, I assessed that the event was not as disastrous as I painted it. In fact, my biggest criticism was not starting on time (sorry, we waited until 7:05 PM; I guess there are no stragglers in the business world). However, I would not have worn moccasins.

Forget Finding a Female Mentor Just Because You're a Girl

In college, I was told that in order to be a successful female at her job, you needed a female mentor to follow, to teach you in the ways of being a successful female in a business. And I bought it. Here's some research on the subject. I picked a job with the expectation that because it was a female-led business, I would get a better handle on how to function as a female in the business world. Now that I've worked under her and under a male, I can't say that the logic of having a same-sex boss to aspire to is necessary. Firstly, those females that we are supposed to be aspiring to more than likely trained under a man. My first lady boss was in the first graduating class with women. That means she studied under men only and was probably in a class dominated by males. She went on to create, invent and run multiple businesses as a woman without having female mentor. Why can't we do that then?

Secondly, we are reinforcing gender differences if we demand that women need to emulate women. You can learn just as much from a male as a female. Yes, I agree that the relationship is different and the experience a man has in the workplace is and always will be different than a female. However, that doesn't mean that what a male can teach you doesn't amount to anything notable. I'd even go as far to argue that learning from a male gives you a competitive edge, as males historically dominate the workplace and still live above our glass ceiling.

I'm not going to generalize and say that my experience with both is the general whole for everyone, but what I've learned from my male mentor is far more valuable than what I learned from my female mentor. My female mentor chalks everything up to being a female and fighting against the stereotype that people place on you inherently if you have a vagina. My male mentor chalks everything up to being right and fighting for what you believe in because you know best in that situation.

Far more empowering.

Additionally, working under a female created a lot of the Queen Bee syndrome, where my movements below were seen as a combative and manipulative, when they really were just new ideas that I thought might work. I didn't get any support and anything I suggested was so quickly squished, it almost felt like it was done purposefully to make me realize where my place was. Working with a man, my new ideas are welcomed and seen as me trying to challenge the status quo in an effort to better the system. I have full support and a booming voice behind me cheering me on.

More respect and more purpose.

I may be making feminists everywhere writher, but I'm just laying it all out in the table. Having a male back you up is still a good thing. Is it better than having a female back you up? No. It's just an option that people don't place any significance on, when in reality, it does serve as a benefit.

Creativity Hiatus

My blog as fallen silent as of late, which is weird because I think of it often. Almost once a day, I think boy, I really need to write. But I couldn't. And I have no idea why. Can creativity just take a break? I've had tremendous writers block, where every topic I wanted to talk about just simply didn't feel right. One of my mentors at my new job left me with the parting wisdom of: If it feels right, then it probably does. If it doesn't feel right, then it isn't. Somehow writing hasn't felt right lately, and it's impossible for me to pinpoint why.

I used to come home everyday with a list of topics that would make great blog posts. At any time, there would be three to five ideas written up, with specific examples, that I would just need to recount for the post. As of late, nothing has felt "written," and I didn't want to force it. Everything used to inspire me and make me want to share it, and now everything feels like something I'd like to internalize and store away.

But hopefully the freeze is starting to thaw. Nothing is worse than feeling like one of your passions is losing its fire. Ever since I was in first grade, I loved to write. It can't die this quickly.

And I think that is the significance that tomorrow's blog post holds for me. A spark reminded me of my passion. Pure, elated, childish passion, which makes you feel like you can change the world. And I am so excited to share it with you all tomorrow.

My Experience with Lengthy Resumes

I used to help in the career and academic center in college and my favorite task was reviewing resumes. It's a really nerdy thing to love, but even now I throw myself at people writing resumes because I want to help them. Part of it is because it's fulfilling to help someone write a resume that will get them a job, and part of it is seeing how they interpret how to craft a resume. On the general whole, most young people don't know what to do on resumes. There are those that put nothing in their resume because they don't know what to put, and then there are those that have a 14 page resume.

Let that sink in.

14 pages.

She was a freshman in college too, so it's not like she was documenting her research qualifications and doctorate theses.

Not only did she have 14 pages, but she was emotionally attached to every page. To her credit, she was involved in a lot, but it got a bit ridiculous citing a D.A.R.E award from elementary school. When I suggested cutting out the dated information, it was like asking I was asking her to slaughter a puppy. I actually started to feel bad asking her if we could cut out her listing of participation awards.

What she didn't see what those 14 pages were making it difficult for anyone to ascertain the important aspects of her achievements. Essentially, she was a hoarder of information and it cluttered all the valuables to the point you didn't even know they were there. Instead of making it look like she was qualified, it made her look disorganized and desperate to prove herself.

After showing her what a one page resume looked like a highlighting the parts of her resume that I would keep, I sent her on her way and recommended bringing in her resume to an academic advisor after she fixed it up. A good ending to the story would be that she saw the light and brought in a one page resume, but I don't actually know that it ever happened like that.

I hope she did take my advice, but if not, I at least hope this memory is an inspiration to ensure that no resume you ever present to a potential employer resembles a novella.

Overcoming FOMO

In college one of my favorite articles I read was about FOMO, the fear of missing out. It's basically a feeling you get when you go on social media and see that all your friends are having so much fun and you weren't there. There's all these studies out now that back FOMO up, saying that social media and the Internet is causing kids to feel higher levels of anxiety (click here for an article that backs me up. and another just to up my credibility). Why I liked this article so much- and literally printed it out so I could always have it- was because I could deeply relate to it. I always felt like I was missing out. If I was invited to 2 different events at the same time, I would pick one and then sit on Facebook or Twitter the day after, waiting to see pictures and and status updates about the party I missed out on. I consistently felt like the other option was better no matter how much fun I'd have the night before, I'd always feel like I should have done the other thing.

Making decisions would be stressful, and then I'd have anxiety about it after, knowing that I'd be able to see if the other people had fun. One night I wanted to unwind after a rough week and relax, so I made no plans and decided to stay in. However, it was nowhere near relaxing. I kept checking in on social media and seeing how much fun people were having and I wondered why I ever decided not to go out. So much for relaxing...

Over time I built it up in my head that social media was this huge problem and that I'd never want to work in it because it is an evil empire. After getting a job where my title is literally "Social Media Specialist", I realize how wrong I was about social media.

Social media was never the problem. The problem was all in my head. This is how I needed to think about it: when people go out and take pictures, they hardly ever take sad ones and post them on Facebook. Even more, some of the best nights I've ever had were ones where we didn't take any pictures because we were literally having too much fun to do so.

Consider that people that tweet excessively are probably not doing anything else that would distract them from tweeting, while you're out there having a blast.

And lastly, who the hell cares? Remember that. If I had a great time, why should I be concerned if someone else had more fun? Why can't we all just have fun and not attempt to quantify it and compare it?

Social media is a great way to connect friends and families, consumers and companies, and strangers with similar interests. Just because someone tweets more than you, is tagged in more pictures than you, has a higher Klout score, or is Vine famous does not intrinsically mean that they are living vastly more exciting lived than you. It's just means they waste a lot more time trying to document their lives, while you're out there living it.