How I Radiated Palpable Discomfort
Sep. 15th, 2011 08:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nemorathwaldGiven how socially proficient I am, many of you express surprise when you discover areas in which I am out of place. But those areas exist.
Tonight I went to a networking event for IT recruiters and job seekers. I emailed the event organizers months ago with my resume, and told them I'd be there. So, even though I got a job yesterday, I went because I RSVP'ed that I would.
One of the organizers saw me writing "web design/dev" on my name tag. He immediately introduced me to a recruiter. She is with a venture capital firm, which is funding a startup. The startup has a variety of work at different levels, possibly including the entry-level work I was looking for (at least, until I got a job in an unrelated field). We exchanged contact info.
I bought a soft drink, looked around, and tried to figure out what to do. The setting was in a bar, resulting in a weird hybrid of work and fraternization that left me without a clear set of rules. I approached the nearest person. She was a recruiter looking for a different branch of IT, but pointed to someone else who was looking for web developers.
I had a brief conversation with that recruiter-- she expressed no interest whatsoever. Soon it became clear that we had nothing to offer each other. In order to not embarrass me, she asked me to email her my resume. Then she quickly disengaged from me with a friendly smile.
I spent some time wondering why I didn't want to talk to anyone there. I don't just mean I lacked the desire to talk to them; I mean I actively wished to avoid them. All of their visible signals exuded a set of goals and values typically associated with a "career person": money, influence, and status. There was an implicit dynamic of desiring and seeking those things, rather than seeking to spend time with people one enjoys.
I value enjoying the company of other people. This was not about that. Therefore all forms of engagement at such a gathering have to be a pretense. I don't know how to be insincere. So, it was difficult for me to figure out how to engage or disengage from anyone.
I stood at the bar and thought for a while. In order to get a career, one must network. There is simply no way around it. Networking means getting to know people who can make a difference for you. Presumably, people with money, influence, and status. But to paraphrase xkcd, the problem with convincing the rat race to let me join them is... that they might let me.
What career is worth that cost? Standing there, it struck me that I can make anything I want to make on the web. I don't need an employer to fulfill my dreams. I need an employer so that I know where my next meal is coming from while I pursue my dreams. As of yesterday, I have that.
The longer I stood there examining the career people, thinking about their second homes, their third cars, their fourth spouses, the better I felt about filing papers and making phone calls for a living. It is a straightforward exchange of time for money. It has no connection to me, so it makes no unseemly demands that I should be driven by a passion for it. Do I really want to receive money in exchange for my love? Isn't it better if my aspirations and my survival do not get entangled in a conflict of interest?
I left my soft drink on the bar and walked out. Maybe I'll have fewer opportunities, but it doesn't mean I'll have none.
Tonight I went to a networking event for IT recruiters and job seekers. I emailed the event organizers months ago with my resume, and told them I'd be there. So, even though I got a job yesterday, I went because I RSVP'ed that I would.
One of the organizers saw me writing "web design/dev" on my name tag. He immediately introduced me to a recruiter. She is with a venture capital firm, which is funding a startup. The startup has a variety of work at different levels, possibly including the entry-level work I was looking for (at least, until I got a job in an unrelated field). We exchanged contact info.
I bought a soft drink, looked around, and tried to figure out what to do. The setting was in a bar, resulting in a weird hybrid of work and fraternization that left me without a clear set of rules. I approached the nearest person. She was a recruiter looking for a different branch of IT, but pointed to someone else who was looking for web developers.
I had a brief conversation with that recruiter-- she expressed no interest whatsoever. Soon it became clear that we had nothing to offer each other. In order to not embarrass me, she asked me to email her my resume. Then she quickly disengaged from me with a friendly smile.
I spent some time wondering why I didn't want to talk to anyone there. I don't just mean I lacked the desire to talk to them; I mean I actively wished to avoid them. All of their visible signals exuded a set of goals and values typically associated with a "career person": money, influence, and status. There was an implicit dynamic of desiring and seeking those things, rather than seeking to spend time with people one enjoys.
I value enjoying the company of other people. This was not about that. Therefore all forms of engagement at such a gathering have to be a pretense. I don't know how to be insincere. So, it was difficult for me to figure out how to engage or disengage from anyone.
I stood at the bar and thought for a while. In order to get a career, one must network. There is simply no way around it. Networking means getting to know people who can make a difference for you. Presumably, people with money, influence, and status. But to paraphrase xkcd, the problem with convincing the rat race to let me join them is... that they might let me.
What career is worth that cost? Standing there, it struck me that I can make anything I want to make on the web. I don't need an employer to fulfill my dreams. I need an employer so that I know where my next meal is coming from while I pursue my dreams. As of yesterday, I have that.
The longer I stood there examining the career people, thinking about their second homes, their third cars, their fourth spouses, the better I felt about filing papers and making phone calls for a living. It is a straightforward exchange of time for money. It has no connection to me, so it makes no unseemly demands that I should be driven by a passion for it. Do I really want to receive money in exchange for my love? Isn't it better if my aspirations and my survival do not get entangled in a conflict of interest?
I left my soft drink on the bar and walked out. Maybe I'll have fewer opportunities, but it doesn't mean I'll have none.
