Don't call me Peter Petrelli

I recently took a Facebook quiz (insert groan here) and discovered that the answer to the burning question, "Which Heroes character are you?" is Peter Petrelli. Initially I scoffed at this notion - I am not full of mid-20's angst! However, upon further reflection (which is all I seem to do these days), I realized that Yes, perhaps I am like Peter Petrelli. Not the angst part, but the empathy part.

When I was a little girl, my mother was fascinated by my ability to mimic her emotions. To prove this point to my father, she sat me down on the floor (I was around 4 years old) and pretended to cry. I immediately started to cry also. This sticks in my memory as the beginning of my co-crying existence.

I am one of those saps who cries at nearly anything - the 90 second Hallmark commercials, the predictable chick flicks, etc. If it is remotely sad or uplifting, I get teary. Just recently I got that fluttery feeling while watching a Gatorade commercial. Gatorade, people!

For those of you who think that co-crying is lame, I agree! I am sometimes irritated by the betrayal of my tear ducts. I am angered that I can't control my body. Then I remind myself that many people have this "disorder" only it isn't a reaction to crying. Perhaps it's a reaction to vomiting. Have you ever gagged when you watched someone vomit? Yeah, same thing for me, except with tears.

You're probably wondering what this has to do with me looking for a job. Well, here it is - I'm sad. And I'm probably going to shed a tear or two (or five or twenty) over the next few weeks. In fact, it has already started.

Last week I facilitated an abbreviated workshop about Change Management. At the end of the presentation, I looked all 26 people in the eye and said something along the lines of this, "As some of you know, I was not offered a job with ***. I want you all to know that it has been a pleasure working with each of you. I have enjoyed your participation and your humor through the years. All of you are the reason that I love my job. Thank you and good luck."

So what do these people decide to do? They give me a freaking standing ovation. Jerks. I completely started to well up! And to make matters worse, I couldn't just politely exit stage left. I had to wait for the Senior Manager to make some gracious comments, shake my hand, and then give me a hug. Oh, the horror.

Three days later, I get a 4 paragraph e-mail from a person at the meeting thanking me for everything, telling me that I am his favorite trainer, etc. And guess what I did when I read it? Yep, you got it. Tears - 2, Nikol - 0.

*** Lesson learned: The mind really does control the body.

Talking in the dark

When I started this blog, my intention was to express my feelings about pending unemployment in a non-verbal way. I chose this medium because I can drone on and on, but also because I don't have to talk to anyone. Not that I am anti-social, but I might get emotional (See previous blog post) and I don't have time for that crap.

As May 22 approaches, I can't help but reflect on the new skills I still continue to tweak. Recently, I learned how to host webinars (you would know this if you've been reading my blog) and I feel that I am pretty good at it. My first webinar was very small so I was able to physically call the participants instead of using the long distance system-provided number. I facilitated a course about LinkedIn as a tool for increasing business results and personal development.

This was the perfect set up since the purpose of using LinkedIn is to make connections and communicate via the Internet. I enjoyed the session immensely and I think the participants did as well.

Fast forward to another session which had double the number of participants. It was not possible to physically call each person so I opted to use the teleconference function. I spent the next three hours talking to dead air. I have no doubt that the participants could hear me - they were actively asking questions and commenting as we viewed various functions. The problem was that I couldn't figure out how to hear them.

About three weeks prior to this, I attended a webinar training class facilitated by a colleague. I am 100% sure that she reviewed how to change the features to unmute everyone. I, however, failed to take copious notes. So there I was alone in my office, talking to no one.

You may think that talking comes quite easily to me and you would be correct. The challenge is talking with no audible response. Try it sometime. Call your answering machine and just talk to it for three hours. Ask it questions, give it directions, and tell it jokes. Then you will feel my pain.

** Lesson learned: take better notes when learning something new.

Meanwhile...

My job these days consists of looking for a new job. Luckily, my boss is really lenient in letting me find a new job while "working" at my current job.

In the midst of this overwhelming task, I try to find some time for professional development. I know that sounds kooky, but I want to stay hip to my profession. (Besides, I *do* have a lot of free time on my hands...)

One of my interests these days is e-learning. I have minimal personal experience, but I am lucky enough to have a colleague (see his blog here) who I consider to be an e-learning guru. Nearly everything I know about e-learning I have learned through him.

Last week, he sent me an e-mail about a webinar hosted by Enspire Learning, D2D, and Skillpoint Alliance. I attended that webinar on Thursday and I was infinitely impressed. Not only did I learn about casual games, I also gained insight on the process of developing a game for public use. The case study that the presenters shared was for a game called Celebrity Calamity. The premise is very simple and fun, two essential elements when creating casual games.

Besides the cool game and wonderful information, I just plain enjoyed the presentation. Earlier this week, I attended a workshop on how to use Power Point. I've been using this software for nearly ten years, so I wasn't expecting to learn much. How wrong I was!

I learned all kinds of tricks and shortcuts and cool formatting strategies. Additionally, the facilitator (another colleague) gave us some tips on how to do a presentation - short sentences, large font, testing projectors, etc. The webinar that I attended seemed to follow all of her directions.

Next week, I will be attending another workshop (also facilitated by a colleague) that will teach me how to host a webinar. I'm so excited. I created a special Power Point presentation just for this occasion.

So this post is dedicated to

1. My boss - for giving me time and opportunity to stay engaged in my "job" and encouraging and supporting me in my fruitless job search.


2. My e-learning guru - for providing me with knowledge, anecdotes, and resources for my new found interest.


3. My Power Point facilitator - for reminding me that years of experience does not correlate to mastery.


4. My webinar facilitator - for sharing expertise and giving me something to look forward to.

** Lesson learned: On May 22, I will miss the people more than I will miss the job

And now for something completely different

On Saturday, March 28, I attended a job fair hosted by my local county government. Originally this was called the "My County Mega Job Fair." Upon further investigation, the title was actually called "Envision your Success." After my previous experiences, I was not hopeful about my success.

I was pleasantly surprised. As I pushed through the door, I was immediately greeted by someone who handed me a map and invited me to sign up for workshops. Workshops? I perused the offerings and settled on "Surviving a Job Loss," an hour long session on what to expect and how to deal with losing a job. Perfect.

While I waited for the workshop, I investigated the employers and talked to a few. The employers were nice enough, but the most impressive part was that the booths were spread throughout the building on multiple floors. No one was waiting in line and no one was bumping into anyone else. And no one was stinky!

The next best part? Scattered throughout the halls were volunteers answering questions and directing people to the appropriate floor or booth. Additionally, get ready for this, they were all happy! Everyone was smiling and seemed to be enjoying spending their rainy Saturday morning helping the soon to be unemployed find a new job. This really set the tone for the whole day. The unemployed are so much more relaxed if people around them are helpful. Crazy thought, I know.

Since the theme was not strictly a job fair, the booths also represented non-profit organizations helping people start their own business, local continuing education resources, and my personal favorite – the Human Rights group. Their sole purpose was to talk to potential employees about fair hiring practices. They had posters and fliers about what questions/topics are legal and illegal to discuss during an interview. They were also handing out cards with a hotline to "turn in" employers who were violating these laws.

The workshop was great. Someone from the unemployment office was there to answer questions. Several representatives from free training centers offered advice. And the lead presenter made us feel comfortable enough that some of us cracked jokes.

I dropped my resume off with a few people; I don't expect a call back. But what I gained was more than that, I got a true sense of community. I know that sounds cheesy, and I'm not quite sure what it means, but I know I felt it.

** Lesson learned: My local government really does care about me.

Sardines is a game for kids, not job seekers

I recently went to a job fair hosted by a very well known online job site. I had very high expectations for this job fair. After my last experience with job fairs, how could this one be worse?

Well, here are just a few ways:

1. Only 10 employers were present. The website and e-mail registration response listed these employers and dutifully noted "and many more!"
2. Lack of direction. This job fair was hosted in a very big convention-center-like professional building. This places hosts weddings, conferences, and the city's visitor center. People in suits were wandering around in every corridor asking each other for directions.
3. Very low ROI. My return on investment was zilch. I spent $14.50 in transportation and parking fees to talk to one employer who advised me to look online for other jobs since he didn't know if his company was hiring for people with my expertise.
4. Sardines is a fun game, when you're 8. This is perhaps the most disappointing aspect of this entire production.

When I was young, all the neighborhood kids would get together and play Sardines. This is basically a reverse hide-and-seek game. One person hides and everyone else counts to 100. As people find the hidden person, they hide together. The loser is the last person to find the hidden group. As you can imagine, towards the end of the game everyone looks like packed sardines in a tin can. This is a fun game, especially played outdoors at dusk, for KIDS.

The unemployed (current or future) do not enjoy being smushed together in small spaces like sardines. Rather we enjoy having the freedom to move our hands to scratch our faces or move our heads to look at the next employer that we plan to meet. Furthermore, we like to know that the host of the fair truly cares about us. One of the ways a host can show that they care is by maximizing the entire space of the conference hall.

If the conference hall is as big as a football field, it is OK to use the entire space; even if only 10 employers are present. In fact, I implore that the entire space be used. Unfortunately, the host of this job fair did not consult me. As a result, over 300 people were packed into a space the size of a Starbucks, while the rest of the hall remained completely empty.

Lines to get in to the hall trickled into the large corridor, no doubt disturbing the business meetings in the rest of the building. Once inside, it was a battle to find the right employer line to stand in. "Are you in line for Aflac or General Dynamics?" Some people were nice, but most were not. "Hey you, the line starts back there. No skipping."

Think about how edgy people are when they stand in line for a concert with general admission. Now add an extra layer of unemployment. Yeah...not pretty.

After standing in two lines for over 20 minutes, I talked to one employer for 3 minutes.

**Lesson learned: Logistics are everything.

Resistance is Never Futile

Earlier this week I attended an information session targeted for those of us who "are being offered severance packages." My understanding of this meeting was that the future organization would be talking to the soon-to-be unemployed about benefits, 401(K), etc. This sounded a lot like a lion describing its own digestive system to a zebra. The actual session was much worse.

After hearing about the history of the organization, each of the presenters shared how delighted they were about our companies merging together. The leader of the team went even further by stating, "If you look out our history, we've done many acquisitions just like this." I silently wondered if she realized that the only people benefiting from this acquisition were the people doing all the talking.

As a training and development professional, I know that one of the worst things that can happen while facilitating a workshop is to have resistance from the audience and the worst kind of resistance is silence. In my opinion, one of the main reasons for silence in a classroom is lack of trust between speaker and audience. These presenters got silence.

One person was from a "Transition Services" firm (outplacement agency) that the organization hired. She was amiable and made a valiant effort in opening up the crowd. Unfortunately, there were no takers. I finally threw her a bone and asked a question about their services...too bad the answer was so disappointing.

This may sound a bit conceited, but I consider myself to be a relatively nice person and, in general, I try to cut people some slack. At this particular meeting I just couldn't. Throughout the rest of the presentation, the following sentence was repeated at least three times: "The information on this slide pertains to those who are staying through the acquisition. That doesn't really apply to anyone here today."

None the less, the information was good. Sort of. Everything that was shared in the session could have been done via webinar or teleconference or e-mail. The only nice part about the meeting was getting to see my colleagues. Perhaps for the last time.

**Lesson learned: Know your audience.

Job Fairs are Smelly

Three weeks ago I was informed that my employment would cease in the very near future. As a result, I have been doing what 8% of the population has been doing - looking for a job.

My first venture was to attend a public job fair. For those few of you who have no idea what a job fair is, let me break it down for you. Employers come to a large facility (imagine your high school gym), set up booths, and talk to people about potential jobs. The current or future unemployed walk around and inquire about available positions and hand out resumes like candy on Halloween.

As a former manager, I have attended job fairs on the employer side of the table. In previous years, this was a very easy part of my job. In fact, I often looked forward to going "out there" to meet the public. Below is a rough example of a job fair conversation eight years ago:

Employer: Hi! Welcome to My Company's booth. My name is Hiring Manager. What kind of job are you looking for?

Candidate: Hello, my name is Job Seeker. I have extensive work experience in Your Field of Expertise. I have been employed with My Current Company for the last two years and I am interested in expanding my skills so that I can actively contribute to an organization that values innovation, hard work, and business ethics.

E: Wonderful! You sound like the perfect candidate. Go ahead and complete this application. Once you are finished, I will interview you. If you have a resume, I'd love to see it.

C: Excellent. Here's my resume. Do you have a pen I can borrow?

***

This candidate was probably hired on the spot.

Fast forward to the job fair I attended last week. Here's an example of a conversation I overheard:

Employer: Hi. We're currently hiring for one Open Position. Do you think you are qualified?

Candidate: Yes. My name is Desperate Job Seeker and I was recently laid off from Your Company's Competitor where I worked for over ten years. My most recent accomplishment was to initiate an internal review of our current work flow processes. After extensive recommendations, I was able to save my company over $20 thousand simply by streamlining the way we handle our external customer inquiries.

E: OK. Yeah, sure, that sounds great. Here's our website. You can see all our jobs and fill out an application. We're not currently taking resumes at this job fair. I don't have any business cards either. Good luck.

***

This person was probably not hired. Instead, she was herded into the next booth, shoved into another waiting line of a company that she did not know and started to perspire (again) with a mixture of expected nervousness and unexpected desperation.

The bad thing is that she wasn't the only person perspiring; and we all know that if a lot of people are perspiring at least one of them forgot to use deodorant. Just like it only takes one obnoxious person to ruin a dinner party, it only takes one smelly person to ruin a job fair.

Once I did a quick whiff check, I tried to guess who the culprit was. I considered the balding man with the too-small suit and the gray haired woman who dabbed her forehead with a dingy white tissue three times in twenty seconds. Both of them seemed likely candidates. The smell became overwhelming. At five feet, I am nose level with most armpits - a very uncomfortable position in a room of 1,000 people. I spent approximately 45 minutes at this job fair.

I didn't pick up any business cards and I didn't leave any resumes. Instead, I quickly walked through the maze of booths while breathing through my mouth. I made it to the end of the cramped hallway and pushed myself through the door to chilled fresh air and freedom.

I am planning to attend another public job fair this week.

**Lesson learned: Keep deodorant in the car at all times.