Tag Archives: after college

The Unemployment Chronicles

1 Sep

We all have our guilty pleasure reading.  The Huffington Post, the extremely left-wing, sensationalized tabloid of the political world, is mine.  Regardless, they do have some great features, among them being The Unemployment Chronicles.  Much like what we do here at liberalart.us, they publish the stories of recent grads, several of whom went to the nation’s top public and private schools, as they hunt for gainful employment.

I spent a fair amount of time clicking through these videos and journal entries.  I almost felt like I was rubber-neckin’ at a bad accident, slowing down to see just how bad the damage was.  But honestly, I was attracted to these people, my counter-parts, my compatriots, because of the sense of camaraderie I felt with them.  Knowing that it’s tough for them validates my own experience.

The Unemployment Chronicles prove that there’s nothing intrinsically wrong with my generation; we are generally responsible, sensible people who are trying to land our first job in tougher times.  Which runs counter to a huge piece that the New York Times ran last week, saying that we were immature and slow to hit the “five key milestones” that brand us real adults.  Which we’re so not. The economy is crap, and that is a legitimate reason for us to not find jobs, get married, and pop out kids at the same lightning speed you old bats apparently did.  So Gray Lady, I hereby give you license to, as Generation Millenial likes to say, suck it.

Anyway.  Here’s a few videos, with a link to the corresponding entry, below:

Samantha Kreindel, Employed After a Two Year Hunt

Marquez Forrest, Grad Student Looking for Work

Loren Wearsch, Underemployed One Year


Guest Post: The Re-do: Lessons Learned and Second Chances

13 Jun

“College is the time to discover who you are.” Think back to freshmen orientation.  How many times did you, a shell-shocked yet exhilarated newbie, hear that phrase?  And yet none of us could appreciate the full truth of this sentiment until we were well on that journey to self-discovery.  This is the story of June’s journey. Sometimes the trip takes us to an expected destination, but once we get there, we can’t imagine being anywhere else.

Hello fellow liberal artists, I’m a graduate of Middlebury College with a pretentious degree in Sociology/Anthropology. It’s all scribed in Latin on my diploma (no really, it’s in Latin and I don’t understand what it’s saying). I don’t have anything clever to say to lead you into my “story/pseudo-advice-but-not-really,” so I’m not. What the hell. Something clever. You’re welcome. No, this isn’t a post about grad school. In fact, it’s a post about me going back to undergraduate school to fulfill requirements for pharmacy/medical school. In essence, I’m finding myself again and delaying my eventual entrance in the professional/”real world.”

So, let’s start from the beginning…or the middle.

During my senior year, I was in love. Like most of us naive twenty-somethings, I believed that I had it all figured out. I was going to move to some big city with my boyfriend and start a new life as a teacher (or something) and eventually go to grad school. Then, we would get married. But, he changed his mind and I was left crushed. All my hopes and dreams for the future suddenly vanished (cue Lifetime movie music). But with the help of friends, family and a counselor, I was able to pass the semester (of course this had to be the one when I took five classes) and move forward with my life.

That summer I had a lot of time to think. I realized that my previous relationship had blinded me from thinking about what I wanted to do with my life. I almost sacrificed my own happiness for the sake of staying together with my ex (which is what all strong, independent, self-respecting women should try to avoid. I know, shit happens.). I didn’t want to be a teacher. I didn’t want to move to Georgia. Hell, I didn’t want to go to grad school. It was time to think about me and be honest with myself. So here’s what I discovered…

Not what she'd be translating (but she wouldn't do it anyway)

Truth #1: I don’t want to be an Arabic translator, or any other kind of translator. It’s ironic that I came to Middlebury for this very reason. So I took the classes (I even dabbled in German and Spanish) and I studied in Egypt. When I got there, I took a translating class and HATED it. The more advanced I became the more miserable I was. Don’t get me wrong. Arabic really is a beautiful and poetic language, but I would rather pierce both of my eyes out with a blunt object than translate everyday for the rest of my life. The tedious care, the pressure, and love for the language that comes with the profession didn’t captivate or excite me. Adios FBI/CIA/State Department/etc…

Truth #2: I’m mediocre when it comes to Sociology/Anthropology studies and I really don’t want to stay in this field. There’s nothing wrong with being mediocre in anything, but when it comes to passion and drive in this particular field, I find myself rather uninspired, bored (most of the time), and trapped in intellectual mazes. There was one point where I briefly considered going to grad school for forensic anthropology, but I found that that particular career wasn’t right for me because I didn’t want to become a professor, I hate bugs, and I would have been paid peanuts for the kind of work that I wanted to do.. And when you have my kind of student loans to worry about (without any trust funds or rich parents) money doesn’t just talk, it screams.

Truth #3: I absolutely love volunteering in the hospital. When you grow up with family like mine (that is, four doctors, 1 nurse and 2 engineers), it’s assumed that you’ll end up in the same kind of field. Embracing the inner rebel, I had always vowed that I would do something different, something special…well, because I was special. Right? So of course I avoided taking that route and found myself attending a liberal arts college (something they hated J). I was going to become an Arabic translator with moderate fluency in Spanish and end up working for the FBI. So much has changed since then. And now, I’m pursuing the very field that I tried to avoid throughout my entire childhood: the medical field.

Science is fun.

Truth #4: I love science, particularly biology and chemistry. Right now, I have just finished my first biology class and I LOVED it. I love studying biology so much. I would walk out of taking a test smiling. I mean, really smiling about what I learned. Like, who does that?! Right now I’m taking chemistry and I actually like doing the homework. I get excited when I think about what my next lab is going to be. And like a true science geek, I’m really looking forward to taking organic chemistry and microbiology. So, where in the hell was this girl in college? She was scared. Scared that for the first time in her life that she might fail. Because of one really bad first semester, she was scared that she had already failed. But, she grew up. Now, she’s happy and the girl that knows better.

Truth #5: No one is perfect and we all make mistakes. Middlebury taught me a huge and expensive lesson about who I am, what I really want to do with my life and to ultimately be honest with myself. It gave me the opportunity to figure all of this out. And to answer all of my “what-ifs.” I met amazing people, followed my dreams and ended up finding new ones. And for that, I’m very grateful. Go Panthers!

Truth #6: I want to work in healthcare and do nothing else (well, I also want to live in New York, go ski-diving…). I look to the future and I’m excited about what is to come. I’m not doing this to make my family happy or to become a millionaire. I want to help people, work with people, and be in a field that’s going to constantly teach me new things and challenge me. I’m still learning and I enjoy being the student. I know that the prospect of staying in school for about another 5-6 years sounds daunting to many, but I take this as a challenge and a reward. It’s a second chance to find my happy ending.

Find your dreams, and then find some more. I say, chase those rainbows like a mad leprechaun and have no regrets. You never know what you may find.

Fo rizzle,

J swizzle

Guest Post: So Many Dreams, Too Few Realities

10 Jun

I asked Leslie, a good friend and former roommate, to write about her volunteer experiences in Israel.  She said, “THIS is what happens when you tell me to write something for your blog. I can’t fall asleep, because thoughts are chasing themselves around my brain, and then at 1 AM I get inspired and stay up writing until 2:30AM and now I am tired and sending you a three page blog post which is pretty much (I think) illegal in the world of bloggers. So there.”

You can read more about her travels here.

My soul crushing, thought paralyzing, niggling little worry is that I will choose the wrong path in life. I’m suffering from a crisis of choice. No, really, they’ve done official studies and stuff.  Basically, too many choices make Jane Average stressed, unhappy, and a bad choice maker.  Anyone else see the vicious cycle poised to eat us like a raging wildebeest?

In the good ole days, Mr. and Mrs. Midwest inherited their father’s farm, or Young Shopkeep took over the family business. One, or two, or maybe three career choices were open to yon liberal artist. Assuming one of these choices was a good one, you had, at worst, a one in three shot at happiness in life. Between globalization and modernization, we’ve got a whole world of careers open to us, with new ones being developed every day. My grandfather sat down and made a list (a list!) of possible careers and then crossed out everything that he would hate; the last career standing won and he became a pharmacist. Badda-bing badda-boom, you’ve canned yourself some job fulfillment. But can you imagine listing all the available career paths today? Just what sort of dissertation would that endeavor turn into? In my twisted, paralyzing logic, I now have, say, a ten in a ZILLION chance at happiness. Which is depressing. If there is a parallel word created by every decision we make, where the other us makes the other decision, than presumably one version of us is wildly, happily living the dream. But that’s cold consolation if the here and now sucks the big one.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Spoilers, spoilers. Like a good little storyteller, I should start back at the beginning.

Life in Mongolia

My first life changing experience happened when I went traveling in Mongolia after I graduated high school. It was all roses and Hallmark cards. I left being able to say, “that one time in Mongolia,” which is cool.  I also left convinced that I was joining the Peace Corps the instant I had a college diploma in hand.

This proved trickier than I anticipated. I graduated in February, proudly presented a beribboned replica walking stick and only given the faint promise of a May diploma arriving in the mail. I did have a liberal arts degree, studying film and physics (because you can do that as a liberal artist). I also had three film internships shinning like golden beacons on my resume. I had begun networking, having decided (such a wonderfully solid life-raft of a word—decided) that I wanted to be an assistant editor, or at worst, a postproduction assistant at some film, television or advertising firm in New York, Boston or Los Angeles. But I had conveniently forgotten the tiny, pinprick of a hole in my particular life raft: I hated nearly every day of each of those three shiny internships. Somewhere between the wonders of editing my own stuff in the basement of my college’s crumbling film building and the bustle of an actual workhorse of the industry something got lost. I got a bit lost.

Around this deluded networking period, I got rejected from the Peace Corps. Apparently the economic downturn generated a record number of applicants and third world countries would rather have English teachers than house builders. My cocky-I’m-a-shoe-in ego stumbled down a few rungs on the ladder as I scrambled for new post-graduate plans. In one of those random happenstances, my mom read in some Jewish magazine or other about this program, Tikkun Olam—did I want to look into living in Israel for five months?

Rebound me said “Yes! This is my wonderful new Life Decision!” I sent letters; I got recommendations; I wrote essays the way every desperate nearly-college-graduate finds that only they can. And after an awkward phone interview I got the good news: I was in!

Pause for a moment. I am not a religious Jew. I did the Bat Mitzvah thing, so at one point I could read Hebrew, but I am not what you would call a gifted linguist. In fact, I matriculated to Middlebury College in large part because there I could avoid taking a language entirely. And I have just committed myself to five months of intensive volunteering and language study in a country I have never visited which is governed by the principles of religion about which I am deeply conflicted. There’s my life raft again, deflating before my very eyes.

I land in Israel. In a haze of ambien-induced sleep, I overcome the jetlag. I meet my twelve housemates, pick four volunteering positions and take six hours of Ulpan (Hebrew Study) a day for the first month. I take a lot pictures, have shouting matches in a bastardized mix of the three dominant languages (English, Hebrew and Arabic), teach basketball (which I haven’t played since high school), momentarily despair of peaceful coexistence, shave my head (unrelated to coexistence), give the look to kindergarteners who throw wooden blocks at my back, hold an illegal immigrant’s toddler while she cries, and sheepishly join the ranks of the bloggers. Once again, life is all roses and Hallmark cards, idealism and positive action. And I love it.

"Peace Players" basketball tournament

Around this everything-coming-up-daisies period, I have an epiphany. I realize that I don’t want to be an assistant editor or a postproduction assistant because those jobs would SUCK. And they would suck for a few years before I was promoted, which is a LOT of suckage. Because if I can be happy (for a Jew, this is really saying something) in a life of volunteering, which I don’t mind, and language study, which college-me hated so much she would rather munch on glass shards, then what else could I be happy doing that I’d previously written off my metaphorical dissertation of a list? I decided that Decisions (with a capital “D”) were silly, and I had a world full of possibility awaiting me once I touched down at JFK. All I had to do was find ONE thing that would make me happy. How hard could that be?

Flash forward a month from this revelation, and you’re back at the beginning of this post. Diagnosis: plethora inducing paralysis. Symptoms: long, stressful periods of meditative rumination and long, whiney skype chats complaining to anyone who will listen.

Luckily, one of my skype buddies had her head on straight (wink, wink, future guest poster Diana) and snapped me out of my completely mental funk. The world of possibility is largely in my head. If I stop thinking about the many careers that exist (not to mention those careers that will be born tomorrow) and start thinking about actual job descriptions for entry level positions, I’ll be able to ferret out that golden apple in those zillion bushels of choices. Maybe I can’t pin down exactly what lights my soul afire in the floaty metaphysical world of words, but I should be able to find a job listing that holds, for me, the promise of happiness.

Some kids at the unrecognized kindergarten for illegal migrant workers' families where I volunteer.

Does this story have a moral? It should. When Sarah asked me to write something for her blog, she wanted (and I quote) “a post on your experiences, a la ‘I took time off to volunteer and discover who I am.’” Well, her ‘post‘ has rapidly turned into my monologue-cum-essay with no ready moral. So for Sarah, and for clarity’s sake, here are some morals you liberal artists can take from my story:

Decisions are dangerous and silly if they’re not flexible. Don’t get stuck in something yucky just cause you’re holding to your guns.

Trust in the journey. The process is worthwhile, even if some people give you that look when you say you’re still figuring things out.

Alternatively, planning is for wusses.  Place your trust in the mysterious tentically sea gods of fate. Something (possibly incredible) will work out in the end.

Skype is wonderful. Not only can I have my psychoses sorted out by a buddy across the planet for zero dollars, my Jewish grandmother can tell me to my face that she can’t talk now because she’s reading my blog.

Write a blog. It’s like a public diary, which makes it like a Facebook Status Update or a Twitter, but way classier. And you can brag about things like Hits and Comments to people who don’t care.

Don’t limit yourself because you think you know what you like. You are stupid, and have no idea how limitless you can be. Which is scary. But as the Hallmark card might say, “You’re worth every minute of the struggle.” Because if you power through, you might just end up somewhere amazing.

UPDATE: Leslie is now writing for liberalart.us.  Check back often for more of her eloquent insights! – Sarah

Guest Post: Applying to Grad School and What to Avoid

8 Jun

Hello friends! Today we have a guest post from my pal Chelsea, a 2010 Sociology/Chinese major who was determined to get her master’s, but the road to grad school was not as easy as she thought it would be.  Below she shares her story and some helpful advice.

I, unlike the vast majority of my classmates, took the GREs, finished my thesis, took my final exams, and wrote up all my grad school applications within the space of a month and looked forward to hearing back from schools.  Flash forward a few months: I got into my top school, accepted their offer without a second thought (after all, this was one of the top programs in the country and everyone told me how I would fit in so well there), and went to go and visit.

Grad school: rude.

When I went and met my prospective department, sat in on classes, and attempted to see where I would be for the next two years, I felt unwelcome, disturbed, and generally miserable at the prospect that my secure future had suddenly ceased to be so secure.  I had a door closed in my face, had my proffered hand of greeting ignored by a professor I wanted to work with and was instead asked “why are you here?”, was unchallenged in a top level class, and was told I was either not registered as a student or already had a large sum of money owed to the school despite having not started yet.  I was miserable and completely confused.

Here’s the interesting thing: I came back to my school, my friends, professors, etc and explained my predicament.  As I flew back across the country I had pretty much mentally settled on declining their offer, but wanted to get the opinions of my professors, family, and friends first, telling each of these people that I wanted to go and get my masters because of a love of learning on my part, not because of a need to get a certificate that would get me a high paying job in the long run.  My friends, all from liberal arts schools, looked horrified and told me not to go, why waste money, time, and energy on a program that I didn’t like and wouldn’t be challenged at.  This was my future, after all, and people always say don’t settle for important aspects of life, why should I settle for my education after years of hard work?  My professors and family, on the other hand, told me in short to suck it up for two years, it is a great program and will look great when I can put that on my resume. Plus, if it was as easy as I claimed, it would be an easy two years with a great GPA to show for it.  Grad school wasn’t undergrad: I wasn’t going to have the warm and cozy campus environment where professors and students share close relationships.

I learnt two main things from this experience: I love learning for learning’s sake. I don’t agree with everyone that told me to go just for the certificate and job I will get at the end, what’s the point?  I’m not going for the paycheck I will get later on, I am going to learn.  I have worked far too hard these last sixteen years to suddenly settle.  I am doing this for me, after all, may as well enjoy myself by means of being challenged and happy if I am going to go.  The job market currently isn’t the prettiest, but there are jobs available to me if I wanted to go that route right now, I just choose not to.

Second thing I learned: I didn’t know my goals in going to grad school when I applied. I initially applied to programs that mimicked or combined my joint majors of sociology and Chinese in college and expected it to be the same.  What I realized after that trip was that my goal really was to make my Chinese as good as it possibly can be and if I wanted that, I needed to get my butt over to China and work/live there.  Applying for grants or scholarships that would allow me to combine sociology as well would be one option or just living there and doing my own research, whether it be by free lance writing for city specific magazines when I am there, commenting from a foreigner’s point of view, or just keeping my own blog, would be ways as well.  Either way, I would be practicing my Chinese like I wanted.

China: She wants to go to there.

Another part of that second lesson was that I am now reconsidering which field I want to go into. So my main goal now is to make sure my Chinese is top notch, okay, cool.  That’s not an academic goal, so want do I want to do academically?  Everyone and every company is in China currently, I have the world of choices ahead of me.  Where are my interests?  What type of field could I combine many of my interests.  The smartest, most mature choice currently may be to not go to grad school next semester and just reapply in Fall, when I have my brain screwed on straight, my interests in order, and much, much more time to research all possible fields.  I just did what I thought I had to do last year and ended up in this predicament.  Clearly, that was not the smartest move and I can see why people don’t typically apply to grad school while they are still at school.  There simply is no time to do so and you end up screwing up because your head is in so many different places.

Here’s my advice for you liberal artists: if you are going to go to grad school for the same reasons I want to go, love of learning, need to be challenged, fear of the real world, etc make sure you know what you want to do.  You don’t want to end up in graduate school like I could have ended up and realize that field isn’t the field you want to be in, ending up with a ridiculous amount of debts and a lack of resume worthy experiences because you chose the education route rather than the job route.  Look outside the box of what you did in college. Realize that graduate schools tend to name things differently from each other, so while you normally wouldn’t look under one department’s heading for potential programs, you never know what you might find.  The perfect department may be hiding under a completely random title.  Lastly, just go with your gut.  I know some people who don’t think I am making the right decision, but I know this is what is best for me.  It just took a major disappointment for me to figure out what exactly I wanted.

So what’s next for Ms. Chelsea? Who the hell knows, check back for more updates!


Dear Universe: An Open Letter

1 May

Dear Universe,

You know what?  I don’t get you. You make less sense than Brendan Fraser’s enduring popularity.  You’re stripping my bright-eyed idealism and naivete, and turning me into a bitter grown-up, disillusioned with reality.  Already.  Like, you couldn’t have waited until my mid-twenties, or I’ve popped out some bratty kids?

Where is my place with you?  I worked just as hard for my diploma as my younger brother, who’s about to graduate with a degree in Neuroscience.  Yet he gets to waltz right into a 32K paycheck, while I serve as some cheap punchline to stand-up jokes.  Party foul, universe.  You’re not only perpetuating a decades old sibling rivalry, but nourishing the seed of doubt that has been planted in my resentful, crabby soul.

You don’t reward hard work; you only reward a certain type of it. If a BS means that I wouldn’t be eating up my parents’ retirement fund and retained the freedom to go to Taco Bell whenever I damn well please, then maybe, if I had to do it over, I would pick a different major.  But probably not.  I could have done just as well in Microchemical Biogeometric Economic Statistical whatever, but that crap makes my eyes bleed from boredom.  How can I be expected to see the board, and thus pay attention, through massive optical hemorrhaging?  Give me Durkheim over mitochondria any day of the week.

But universe, you’re not totally at fault.  Sure, you may be an unfair bigot, but you do have some jobs available for me. However, in my zealous quest for employment, you’ve forced me to realize something: sometimes I just suck at things, like job applications. Liberal artists are classic overachievers, and I was not used to failure or rejection.  When I didn’t get Teach For America, I was disappointed, but figured, “Hey, the rejection monster had to rear its ugly, falsely apologetic head sometime.”  31 appearances later, I get it, universe, loud and clear.

I’ve found something I am fucking terrible at.  I’ve sent out applications with typos, I haven’t sent follow up thank you’s, I have atrocious interview habits.  But did you have to point this out 31 times?  I mean, that’s a bit heavy-handed, universe.   Am I really that stubborn and stupid that you had to go Desert Storm on my sorry ass?  I think you need to work on your grace and subtlety.  A strongly worded note would’ve sufficed.  Or blatant text, if you’re pressed for time. “Sarah, u sux at job-hunting, gt bttr @ it. kthxbai. uni.”

Universe, I want you and me to be friends.  Let’s get all Rodney King up in here.  Help me find employment.  You know that my research abilities are unmatched, and as Ryan pointed out, I’m generous with my time and resources.  But I know that my resume can’t state “Skills: Reading, Writing, Caring SO HARD.”  So I’m kind of a little tiny bit skill-less, which apparently is an issue.  Fine.

You want people who can play the game, and who are good at what they do. I’m neither.  If I pick up a few marketable skills, like html and C++ (whatever that is), and learn how to apply to jobs effectively, you’ve got to promise to give me a job.  Because we’re friends now, universe, and friends look out for each other.  I’d totally do the same for you.  On an unrelated note, I promise to buy you a car when I’m rich and famous, because I think you’re awesome, universe, and very pretty.

Universe, this is where I’m especially confused, and I’m counting on you, with your 4.5 billion years of life experience , to give me some advice. What kind of job should I get?  My job hunt has increasingly been driven by desperation and conflicting wants. I want to change the world.  I want to fix you, universe, because you’ve got issues.  The student achievement gap?  Colossal problem.  (It’s like you hate children, just like you hated the dinosaurs.)    But I want nice things too.  For example, perhaps I want to employ a butler named Belvedere to meet my every whim.  Or  I may want to go to grad school without facing an insurmountable wall of debt.

I think liberal artists feel the same way.  We are ready to become peace warriors against “The Man,” because we’ve spent four years learning how, throughout history, he’s taken a major dump on minorities, women, the environment, what have you (dude’s a dick).  But when push comes to shove, a lot of us look for employment that satisfies a tall order of requirements.  We feel so much pressure to find that perfect job: from our parents, who want to ensure we financially benefit from their pricey investment; from society, who have been forecasting our unemployment since we declared our majors; and from ourselves, who consider our degrees a door-opener to whatever opportunity we deem worthy of our intelligence and integrity. For instance, I came out of college thinking money was a bad thing and non-profits were the only way to truly affect change and apply what I’ve learned in school, but my parents balked at the notion of working for table scraps.  My hardworking, immigrant parents, who’ll pay a total of eight college tuitions (yes, eight!), did not send me to Middlebury to live under the poverty-level for my first few years out of school.

Universe, how do I reconcile these wants and pressures?  Do you think the corporate sector is as soul-less as the stereotype propagates?  How do I change the world without living on food stamps?  How do I deal with the fact that a lot of people seem to treat AmeriCorps as a last resort, when all other employment resources have been exhausted?  Why are alumni admitting to me that their philosophy degree is impractical, or law school was a bad decision?  What do I do when my 15 year old brother, annoyed that I’ve switched the channel, says, “Maybe you should’ve picked a different degree, because then you wouldn’t be living at home,” and I know he might be right?  Why are you, universe, sending me all these signs that everything I cared about, everything I thought was important and special, is second fiddle to the world of science and economics?  Why are you reducing my studies, my universe, to a mere passing interest, something to be derided and regretted?

I know I’ve just thrown a lot at you, Universe, and I don’t expect an answer anytime soon.  I know you’re probably busy, expanding to the far corners of space, dealing with exploding stars, and consoling Pluto.  I guess I’ll just try to figure this all out for myself until then.  I think I’m due for a nice long bout of self-reflection, anyway.



(Wo)man Up and Get Some Life Skills

6 Apr

I attended the Career Services event here at Middlebury College on “Establishing Yourself as a Working Professional.” Gag me. Are you seriously going to name your event that? Next time, try the title of this post and see how many students show up.

Still, there were valuable lessons to be learned, and I took some notes for y’all:

Star Barnham – Syarcuse University

  • Get insurance early (when you’re healthy) because chances are when you get sick, no one will insure you after that. Obama jumped in this with the health care law signed recently.
  • Cash always helps. Save 10% of whatever (how little) you earn.
  • Develop your own board of directors” — have people you go to for advice in various areas (finance, jobs, emotional baggage)

Dave Campbell (Midd ’09)

  • Humility, gratitude, and self-awareness are keys to life/job search.
  • Write thank yous.
  • Be prompt. Value other people’s time.
  • Proofread your emails. No seriously, he’s not joking. When’s the last time you proofread an email?
  • Networking is helping people not just trying to help yourself.
  • Have a zest for life / enjoy the moment / other cliche phrase I can’t remember

Lisa from Human Resources (HR)

  • Your total compensation package includes a lot of stuff that takes money out of your paycheck — break it down so you’re not surprised by taxes, healthcare, benefits, time off, etc.
  • Know these terms: premium, deductible, co-insurance, co-payment, vesting schedule. You need a crash course in insurance, baby.

Dilanthi Ranaweera (Midd ’09)

  • You’re the new person in the office. Make a good impression on them.
  • Participate in everything office-related. Your social life will suffer post-college, make office friends. It’s like freshman year all over again.
  • Say good morning and good night to everyone in the office. Or, be friendly.
  • Learn to take care of your money.
  • International students: get your paperwork together early and often.

Dan Rosenfeld (Midd ’99)

  • Rock the Rolodex: be in contact with all your friends, acquaintances, others at least 3-4 times a year or more. Call 2-3 people per day. “How can I help?”
  • Don’t be afraid to pick up the phone.
  • Don’t underestimate the smartness of others and what they are capable of. Just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you’re smarter than them.
  • How to get promoted yourself: get your boss promoted by solving his problem.
  • Do discreet work (projects) while in school.
  • Do jobs where you think you’ll learn something.

Muchadei Zvoma (Midd ’07)

  • Take time to make the right decision. Don’t rush it.
  • Go do “life skills” stuff (car, house, etc.) with people who have experience doing it already and match your priorities.
  • Alumni are key to your success.
  • Do interviews for jobs you don’t want to practice interviewing.

There was also tons of credit card talk. But more on finance in another post.