Just so you know, I was properly admonished for going MIA on y’all in last week’s paper. Travis (my husband) was packing the car for a drive to Mount Rainier on Saturday when a neighbor pulled up to say hello. No sooner did I walk out of the house, than he gave a friendly wave and called out from his truck. “Hey! Where were you this week? I didn’t see your column! What, did you get a JOB or something?”
Sadly, I did not. Instead, I spent the majority of my time on A) increasing my job search efforts by about 1,000 percent, and B) the expensive and immediate problem of our 13-year-old cat developing diabetes. Among other things, he has a raging case of vet-specific demon possession and a pair of extremely high-maintenance owners. And yet, Maple Valley Animal Hospital still takes care of us with a little respect and a WHOLE LOT of patience.
Entirely too sick of spending time signing up on job sites and going crazy over the cat, this week I decided to go to a networking event. At a bar. In Belltown. Where it turns out the place has a music level so normal that you not only have the ability to hear yourself think, you can actually have a conversation, too.
Tuesday afternoon, I spent half an hour in my closet debating what to wear. It was too ridiculous, standing there wondering whether my favorite grey checked skirt was conservative enough. In the end, I went with a simple combination of a black tank top, grey slacks and dusty pink blazer. I straightened my hair with a flat iron, put on two shades of neutral brown eye shadow and finished the look with a decent shade of lipstick. Pretty conservative, in all – except for one thing: a pair of 2-inch black heels with little pink flowers.
Don’t ask me to give up my heels. I won’t do it. Even when I nearly biff it running across 1st Avenue. I arrived at the Seattle Job Social an hour early – paying $12 in the lot across the street; armed with a folder-full of resumes, my portfolio and a stack of business cards.
Walking into Twist restaurant and lounge, I was relieved to find it already better than many of the outrageous, glamed-up, women’s only events I’d attended this year. For one – it was calm, casual and reasonable. The $5 entry fee didn’t seem so outrageous given the fact there were real-life employers there, looking to fill real positions. For another – people actually talked to each other. There was none of the clicky, hard-to-break-into-if-you-show-up-alone dynamic.
Charles, a software programmer, was the first job-seeker I met. Working for Microsoft for years, he contributed to the Bluetooth prototype, in addition to a multitude of other projects. “I really enjoy seeing people use something I helped make. It’s such a fantastic, tangible result. I can look at a mouse, or a headset and know there’s a little bit of me in each one.”
Then I met Kathryn, with whom I instantly became friends. A native Washingtonian, she has a master’s degree in college administration, currently temps in Bellevue and speaks French. “I really love my new boss. We actually have a very trusting, mutual relationship. That hasn’t been the case for every women I’ve worked for. It’s like… some women had to work so unbelievably hard to get where they are, they’re not about to let a younger one get there any easier.”
I discussed my frustration at the online application process with a man named Ben, and how I WISHED someone would invent a network like facebook, but for jobs. Because Hello. Potential employers? I do not want to register my five-hundredth-thousandth online account (and additional password) for the pleasure of spending an hour and a half manually entering my education, experience and skills that are, you know, ALREADY ON MY PREFORMATTED RESUME, which your system will simply not upload. “You know, 85 percent of jobs really are filled by personal referral. But the hiring manager can’t just fill it that way – so they post the position, get a thousand applications, and then ignore all but the few they already knew they wanted.”
Then there was Elizabeth, a wonderful HR professional from Sacramento who moved here four weeks ago, but who has been laid-off for a year. “The toughest thing – right after I lost my job – was networking for jobs I didn’t really want. Dealing with so much uncertainty, trying to move, but not quite able. What could I do? I had to look.”
Last, there was Simon, a career IT professional turned job coach who currently runs job hunting and skill-building groups in Seattle and the Eastside. He noticed my shoes. I asked his advice on my recent interview experiences. “It’s good to be a woman in technology – people are looking for that. But you are overly hot.”
“You’re probably right. I can be overly aggressive when I want something,” I made clawing motions with my hands, “and I REALLY WANTED that job, grrrr!”
“No, I mean, you’re too attractive. Like, don’t wear those shoes to an interview. You don’t look like a techie.”
“…I KNEW IT!”
