You Don't Need a Destination Before You Begin

Did you ever dream of going on a crazy road trip, one that you plotted as you went along, stopping at roadside attractions as they caught your fancy, hunkering down in flea motels when you found yourself reverse blinking? Maybe you even lived the fantasy and took one of these trips. Here's the secret:  That roadtrip process? That's life.

Far too often I see my senior students paralyzed by uncertainty, waiting for some mythical work/life destination to appear before they can begin moving forward. In reality, you'll find the endpoint as you travel. And, in so doing, come to realize that the travel is the destination.

Start Moving Toward a "Region"

In your twenties, you don’t have to be able to say the job-equivalent of “I want to go to Coos Bay, Oregon.” Even if your friends can. You might just be able to say, “I want to go to Oregon.” Or “I want to go to the Pacific Northwest.” Or even, “I want to go somewhere on the West Coast.” And that's plenty. As long as you start moving.

Where should you go? When it comes to work, pick a "region" based on the topics that resonate for you, the skills you've developed, and the experiences you've had. In her book The Defining Decade, psychologist Meg Jay makes the excellent point that twentysomethings don't have as many options as they think; your past and your abilities constrain your options. While this may seem frustrating, it's actually sweet relief. Too many choices leads to decision paralysis, so it's best to work with the limitations instead of against them:  accept the "region" that resonates and move toward it.

Avoid the Push Toward Specificity

Imagine you take my advice and announce to your family the work equivalent of "I'm heading to the West Coast." For instance, you say, "I'm gonna try working in communications." Yikes. Welcome to pushback galore. To put it mildly.

That's because the people who care about you - the people who are honing in on a more concrete destination for themselves (but don't let them fool you, they're most likely still searching too) - will experience discomfort over your lack of specificity. They want to feel like they "raised you right" and set you up for an independent life. That is their issue, not yours. Thing is, as long as you're moving forward - as long as you're going somewhere and staying mindful, reflective and engaged while on the journey - they have nothing to worry about

Even if you can't convince them of this, as long as you believe it, that's all that matters. And trust me, you'll be better off for living an active nonspecific life, despite the fallout:  specifying too soon for the wrong reasons can result in extreme confusion later in life.

You Can't Plot It All Out

Not only is it better for your sense of self if you avoid early specificity, it's also potentially impossible to specify early in life. As many scholars claim, what you end up doing in ten or fifteen years may very well be in a field, industry, or company that doesn't even exist yet.

The most compelling example I've seen of this is in Sheryl Sandberg's book Lean In. She writes that there was no way as a twentysomething she could have possibly prepared for or plotted toward her current role of COO of Facebook:  when she was graduating from college, Mark Zuckerberg was in 8th grade.

You'll Miss Out on the Best Stuff if You Plan Too Much

Back to the roadtrip analogy, as you drive out toward your "region,"  you’ll start seeing billboards and brochures for cool diversions and roadside attractions. Since you're not on a set timeline with a strict destination, you’re able to shift course and check them out. A giant whale? Cool. A beer can house? Cooler. The World's Largest Pez Dispenser? Sounds cool, but it's not so much.

As long as you keep forward motion going - I wouldn't recommend camping out indefinitely at Totem Pole Park, for instance - this process can be not only enjoyable, but also highly informative. When it comes to identity development, this sort of action paired with reflection leads to the best outcomes.

Start The Journey

If you take the forward-motion-without-a-clear-destination approach, you might pick a career that you'd never expected that fulfills you in ways you couldn't have imagined.

Using our analogy, you might be much better suited to life in Seattle than you'd imagined when you were still on the East Coast, focusing solely on the volume of rain in the city (150 days!). But as you get closer to the West Coast, you realize that coffeehouses and grunge revival bands and men throwing fish grossly outweigh your distaste for rain. And, voila, you find a "city" that you love.

It all comes down to what E.L. Doctorow said about writing novels:

“Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”

So too with life.

Don't get too far ahead of your beams. And don't wait to start moving until you can see the end of the road.

Time to rev up the comments engine here at our new site:  What's your experience traveling without a destination, literally or figuratively?

Need a boost in your forward movement? For just $20 we can have a power-packed 20 minute jam session in which we'll strategize about ways to get you moving, clarify your goals, and set up an action plan of next steps. Millennial are my specialty (I have 10 years experience!). Contact me if you have questions - but do it soon:  this offer ends at midnight on July 7th, and I won't be offering a rate this good ever again! Launch special, baby!

This Site's For You

Why an old beer commercial kept going through my head while I was creating this site, I'll never know. But there it is:  my first Working Self title is in homage to alcohol. Classy, eh? The thing is the beer commercial wording, when tweaked, is perfect - this site really IS for you.

With every single element, I questioned what you'd most want to see and what would be most useful to you. And I'll keep questioning and tweaking as long as you keep reading.

Let me give you a quick tour of the brand new FREE features around these parts:

• I'm starting a Working Self Newsletter, to be delivered via email every few weeks. You can read details about the newsletter's features here. And here's our first-ever giveaway:  if you subscribe before midnight on July 7th, you'll be entered to win a copy of Paul Angone's hot-off-the-presses book 101 Secrets for Your Twenties!
• I'm going to begin holding free, no-pitch webinars every month or two, to bring some interactivity into our mix! I'm tired of being behind a keyboard all the time; now you'll get to hear my voice and I'll get to see your comments and questions in real time. The first webinar is already scheduled for August 7th at 8pm EST, and is called "Nudge Your Job Toward Your Dream." Click here to learn more and to sign up.
• In the next week or so, I'll set up a free downloads page, on which I'll offer self-reflective exercises and other Working Self original offerings that will be constantly expanding.

Plus, as always, the blog will keep rolling along and, thanks to your feedback, getting better all the time. You can expect a post or two a week; I'm aiming for quality over quantity from here on out.

As much as I love free - it's actually what I most enjoy working on - it's not a sustainable model. For the past ten years, I've been taking on freelance projects for textbook companies to make ends meet around my teaching and "pleasure" writing. My future goal is to generate more income from work I love - i.e., speaking, personal consulting, and writing about work, identity and the 20s - so that I can gradually accept fewer textbook projects and have more time to create the free products I'm passionate about offering you. (Yup, I'm an ongoing case study of the working self process that I discuss on the home page. As I should be! None of us is ever "done.")

Bottomline:  I'm going to have to be more vocal about my paid products so that I have the time to create the free offerings I want you to have. The way I see it, we'll all benefit from the success of my paid products - including personal coaching, e-courses, speaking, and e-books. They're the fuel that'll run the engine of the freebies:  the webinars, the blog, the downloads, the newsletter. It can't work any other way. Unless the scratch-off tickets my mom sends me start to pay out more than $1...

I'm not a salesman, though, so "vocal" doesn't mean I'll be loud and aggressive. By any means. My services are simply more visible and clear on this site than they were in the past. For instance, if you know anyone who might be interested, I'm running a 20-for$20 personal consulting special through July 7th, in which someone can pick my brain for 20 minutes for only $20! <Click to Tweet>

So that's the down-and-dirty of the new site. Now we can get back to the good stuff:  blog posts about work, self, and the blend of the two. In the meantime, take some time to stroll around, make yourself at home, and get a big laugh when you find the ridiculous photo of me as a two-year-old. Then come back here and let me know what you think. This site is for you, after all!

A Millennial's Take on Decision Making: Digressions of a College Senior

The following is a guest post from Stephanie, a Marketing Associate at Argopoint, a management consulting firm in Boston. Argopoint LLC was founded in 2005 with the goal of improving corporate legal department performance at leading Fortune 500 companies through innovative management consulting strategies. During senior year of high school I took “Senior Humanities," a double-period class that discussed everything from philosophy to religion to history and government. On the last day of class, as seniors rejoiced at the definitive end of our academic careers (we didn’t care to face the reality that the next 4-10 years of our lives would still be spent in the constructs of academia), our teachers instructed us to go around the room, naming our final college choices and what we intended to do there.

“The College of William and Mary with a chemistry major, minor in economics and pre-med concentration,” I said.

That's where I stood in June of 2010. I had already changed my college choice twice; first it was Johns Hopkins (where I revoked my Early Decision application a day after the deadline) and then UCLA (whose deposit letter got torn up seconds before it got in the hands of my postman).

I chose the College of William and Mary on a whim. I had forgotten that I had applied, and it was the last decision letter to come in the mail. I opened up the large white envelope, read over the glossy materials and thought, “it’d be nice to go here.” I made the decision right then and there, standing in my kitchen, with hardly any uncertainty. For someone as detail-oriented and obsessed with the college process as I was, my decision to go to the College of William and Mary involved surprisingly little consideration.

Despite my inability to pick a college, a decision that I had convinced my young self would determine the course of the rest of my life, I was firmly committed to the idea of becoming a doctor - a surgeon, to be specific. I had always done well in my high school science courses, enjoyed the idea of helping people, and thought I was up for a lifestyle that required working 80 or more hours per week. It seemed like the obvious career choice for someone who was ambitious and wanted to contribute something of substance to the world.

Fast forward three years, and I am now a rising senior at Boston College, a student in the Carroll School of Management, with a double major in Economics and Art History and a pre-law concentration. Past freshman chemistry, you won’t find a single science class on my transcript. In three years, I have changed nearly everything that I was previously so sure about:  I transferred to another university, entered a completely different field, abandoned my career path, and embraced subjects I had never once considered. I look back at my high school self and ask, what was I thinking?

Here's what I've learned about myself in college:

1. I hate science.
2. I need a minimum of 10 hours of sleep per night to function.
3. I'm no southerner.

Fortunately, college is the time to make these mistakes. Transferring schools is not the end of the world, especially if you’re lucky enough to figure it out early, like I did. Switching majors is also relatively inconsequential; fill out some paperwork, send an email to your academic advisor, and voila! The course of your college career is transformed in a heartbeat with surprisingly little pain.

Alas, senior year is on the horizon. At some point (May 14^th, 2014, to be precise), all of this confusion and indecision must come to an end. Most of the poor decisions made in college are inconsequential. You can fix almost anything with an email, and in more serious situations, a cordial visit to someone’s office. The “real world," from my limited perspectives, seems much different.

Upon entering the “real world," decisions become infinitely more consequential. Switching career paths, say, from art curation to law to management consulting carries incredible weight, especially when simply “going back to school” isn’t possible in the face of thousands in already accrued student loans.  Once I’m officially disowned from my parents (financially, obviously), my ability to make mistakes disintegrates.  This is perhaps the scariest point of realization for any college senior.

The title of this blog is “Career Avoidance 101." I have spent my entire college career doing exactly that:  attempting to avoid all serious interaction with the real world. As a rising college senior, I can’t afford to keep avoiding it any more (literally and figuratively speaking). May 14, 2014 is coming, and it’s coming fast.

Fortunately/unfortunately, I’ve had a number of varying tastes of what real life will be like, in the form of internships. I worked as an intern at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, and am currently working at a management consulting firm. The two experiences couldn’t be less similar – the catch? I enjoy both equally, for vastly different reasons. Each career path comes with its own unique set of challenges, and has extremely different consequences with regards to their impact on my personal life.

900 words and one year later, I have come to realize that I am no closer to providing any kind of conclusion for this post; I am only reiterating what has been demonstrated time and time again on this blog. Picking a career is like picking a college, with vastly more at stake. You have to keep searching, trying, shifting, and adapting in the vain hope that eventually, you’ll get it right.

Note from Rebecca:  Thank you Stephanie! You will figure out it. Bit by bit, and year by year. And don't worry, you can still change course. I sure have!

I couldn't have dreamed up a more fitting final post for Career Avoidance 101. I picked the name "Career Avoidance" six months ago, in tribute to my Bates students who, like Stephanie, want to do anything but think about their careers. My original plan for the blog was to take a tongue-in-cheek approach that would provide solid life-building advice in the guise of being anti-career. It turns out I don't do tongue-in-cheek well. It also turns out that, as Stephanie said, we can't afford to avoid career forever. Which, of course, is what this blog has actually been about all along.

In the interest of making that point clear to the rest of the world, it's time for a name change. So starting on Monday you'll find me over at WorkingSelf.com. The site will contain all of the posts and info from CA101 - plus a lot more.

Be sure to stop by next week to sign up for our brand new email newsletter, which will automatically enter you in our first-ever giveaway! (Not to mention that it'll provide me with a much-appreciated dose of moral support.)

Lots of firsts ahead! Thank you all for giving me the guts to tackle this new challenge. Let's stop avoiding and start working. Happily.

Destination #3 (real destination #1): The College of William and Mary (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Current residence = Boston College. Up next = ??? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Embrace Your Pain

The following guest post was written by Nick at A Young Pro. Nick is a recent college graduate trying to find his way in the crazy corporate world. He is a happy husband, a proud father, and he blogs about Career, Personal Finance, and Millennial Life. As a 20something edging ever closer to becoming a 30something (full disclosure: I’m 28), I can’t help but engage in increasingly frequent bouts of self-reflection. I consider my late 20s to be a perfect time to analyze both what I have done well, and what I have done not-so-well to this point in my life.

One concept that I have become intrigued by lately is “growth”. In my early “adult” life I struggled to grow. I moved away from my parent’s home when I was 18 years old to attend college, only to move back home when I was 18 ½ years old, having flunked my first semester resulting in a lost scholarship. I spent the next several years working low-paying jobs, living with my parents, not growing at all. I was in a holding pattern and I didn’t know how to break out of it. I’d like to think that my situation is not all that uncommon. I believe many young people struggle to learn how to move on to the next phase of their lives. I want to teach you an important concept I recently learned. Something that can help you learn from the struggles of your early adult life and grow into the next phase of your life.

I have been reading a book lately entitled “The 15 Invaluable Laws of Growth”, written by John C. Maxwell. As I reflect back on my early adulthood, one law in particular sticks out to me. It is law #8, entitled “The Law of Pain”. The Law of Pain states that “good management of bad experiences leads to great growth”. I didn’t realize it at the time but back then I had a lot of pain points, and instead of growing from them, my pain points were holding me back. Here are some of them:

• The Pain of Accountability – I didn’t know how to take responsibility for my actions. I had a sense of entitlement about certain things and that caused me to fail most of my classes in college.
• The Pain of Hard Work – I knew how to work, I just didn’t know that I knew how to work.
• The Pain of Identity – My lack of self-awareness caused me to engage in activities for the wrong reasons (such as attending college). Because I often lacked the proper motivation, success was much harder to come by.
• The Pain of Financial Incompetence – In my early 20s I had very little knowledge of personal finance. This caused me to get myself into debt, which I would have to claw my way out of eventually.

I could list more pain points, but I’m sure you get the point by now. I would even wager that many of you have similar items on your list as well. Mr. Maxwell points out three universal truths about bad experiences (pain). First, “everyone experiences them”. Second, “no one likes them”. Third, “few people make bad experiences positive experiences”.

The third point is what I really want to focus on here. Early on, I didn’t know how to learn from my mistakes. Mr. Maxwell seems to think that is more common than actually knowing how to learn from mistakes. Maybe you know, maybe you don’t. If you are a 20something reading this blog there is a good chance that you are more self-aware than most of your peers; there is also a good chance that you frequently make mistakes (I hear the same can be said for 30somethings, 40somethings, and beyond). Can you imagine the power of harnessing those mistakes and turning them into your largest growth opportunities? If you are like me this concept gets you pretty excited. So how do we do that? Luckily Mr. Maxwell has some advice on the matter.

1. Choose a Positive Life Stance – I’m a big believer in the power of positive thinking. I can’t explain it, but good things happen when you have a positive attitude. If you learn to be positive through the bad experiences, clarity on what may have caused those situations comes much easier. I have found that a positive attitude helps me to recognize the lesson in my bad experiences.
2. Embrace and Develop Your Creativity – I have a feeling Rebecca is a big believer in this one. Mr. Maxwell states “The people who make the most of bad experiences are the ones who find creative ways to meet them”.
3. Embrace the Value of Bad Experiences – Growing as a result of bad experiences is a choice. You must decide that you are going to learn from your bad experiences.
4. Make Good Changes After Bad Experiences – Once you have learned a lesson from your bad experience you must apply that lesson to your life and change your behavior.
5. Take Responsibility for Your Life – Another personal favorite. No one is in charge of your growth but you. You decide you need/want to grow. You find the lessons to learn from your experiences. You make the changes in your life.

I leave you with this final quotation from Mr. Maxwell:

No matter what you have gone through in your life—or what you are currently going through—you have the opportunity to grow from it. It’s sometimes very difficult to see the opportunity in the midst of the pain, but it is there. You must be willing to not only look for it, but pursue it.

So get out there, face your pain, grow, and prosper!

We need pain to grow. (Photo credit: Peter Kudlacz)

The Upside of Rejection, Part III: Motivation Builder

Rejection as motivation builder? Am I smoking something? Yes rejection stinks. Worse than my daughter's diaper pail at the end of a hot summer week. I was reminded of this earlier in the week, when a plum job opportunity floated into our household, only to be booted out with an abrupt rejection. (Begging the question of whether it's possible to invite rejection by writing about it...)

There's nothing but pain in the Rejection Process. I totally get it. Too vividly at the moment.

BUT, after the pain, there's something more. Or at least I theorize that there is. If we do things right.

So I give to you, for the first time ever, an RFT Original Theory, presented in graphical form. (You've been breathlessly awaiting this day. Admit it.)

As you can see, I theorize the following:

• Our motivation climbs from our typical, baseline level when we're working on applying to a job or graduate program (this may include the application itself, a round of interviews, requests to stand on your head, what-have-you).
• We then sit at baseline for a while - sometimes a LONG while - waiting to hear our fate. (The fingernails dwindle into nothingness.)
• Rejection hits! NOOOOOO! (To be said like Rachel on Friends.)
• Despair, bitterness, hopelessness, a 5-pound weight gain borne completely of Pop Rocks and Slim Jims follows. (Why Slim Jims? Beats me.)
• But here's the good part:  I strongly believe that once we get over the rejection, we not only can find a more authentic path and be open to serendipity - the topics of the first two posts of our rejection series - but we can also reach a NEW baseline level of motivation, such that we're more fueled than we were before the rejection.

To get that boost in motivation, though, we have to do two crucial things:

1. Not ignore the rejection. We have to be willing to look the rejection in the face, think about what it means, and regroup with a plan that's true to ourselves and that intentionally compensates for any weaknesses exposed during the Rejection Process.
2. Be open to looking everywhere but where you've been looking. In the early phase of the Rejection Process, we're so hyperfocused on one goal that we tend to forget to think about the goals that may be waiting for us in the absence of that particular goal. Clear as pond scum? Alright, let's try an example:  All of the rejections my hubby & I have faced in the recent past have been freeing up tons of time for the goal I'm most fascinated by - and most afraid of:  making a real go of building this blog into a fully-functioning business, complete with freebies like live, no-pitch, kick butt webinars; email newsletters chock full of useful stuff; and blog posts that deliver valuable content readers can USE; alongside paid products like expanded coaching services, e-books, and online courses, such as on the topic Should I Go to Grad School? Sometimes rejection is the very thing we need to keep a dream alive. Especially a dream that we'd love to run from. Bottomline:  At times we're our own worst enemies and we may be rejected so that we get our heads screwed on straight and finally get down to our real work.

And that's that. All the thoughts I've ever had about rejection. And then some. As we wrap up our rejection series, I want to hear your closing thoughts on rejection. What did I miss? What did I get wrong? What do you still want to know?

Programming note:  Speaking of the anxiety-and-avoidance-inducing new website, this is the last time you'll hear from me before it launches on Monday the 24th. (Albeit a soft launch; I don't anticipate everything will be fully functional, but since it's just you guys and me at this point - i.e., my super-supportive seedling crew who have enabled me to dream big - I can totally handle that.) This site will have posts next week, though, before the changeover occurs:  two awesome guest posts by twentysomethings! I hope you enjoy them.

See you on the other side of my fear!

The Upside of Rejection, Part II: A More Authentic Fit

Last time we discussed one benefit of being rejected from career-related opportunities:  making space for serendipity. Today we'll look at another upside I've experienced and observed:  how rejection allows - or perhaps forces? - us to find a path that is more authentic. Countless times I've seen my senior students chasing jobs or grad school paths that are, to the outside observer, awful fits for them. Sometimes it's due to an obsession with status, money, or impressing others, but even more often it's because they got stuck on a path that no longer matches their reality.

Upgrade Your Career Ideas

When we pick a field, we typically have a particular possible career path in mind. Problem is, this path is usually narrow, stereotypical, and not necessarily perfectly suited for us.

For instance, nearly every student who declares a psychology major says they're thinking of becoming a clinical psychologist. I did, too. But I'm not one. And neither are 85% of people who graduated as psychology majors.

This isn't because people are copping out. Well, maybe in some cases. But for the most part it's because as we get more exposure to a field, we learn about career paths we never even knew existed. And those paths, it turns out, may be a terrific fit for us.

The issue is that we often fail to update our ideas about possible careers when we get to the actual act of looking at job or grad school opportunities.

An Example of Rejection and Authenticity

For instance, after graduating, one of my students worked at a nonprofit doing textured, hands-on interventions for low-income families. She was generally happy in her work, but there was no room for growth so she decided to return to grad school after two years on the job.

Her decision to go to grad school was good. Her choice of grad program was, in a word, not.

Unsurprisingly, she said she wanted to become a clinical psychologist. She'd said this since the day I met her. The thing is, she thought, behaved, and held the values of a social worker. So I told her so. But between status, parental expectations, income potential, and sheer momentum, the student stuck to her plan.

I supported her, of course, and helped her craft a personal statement to fit the intended path while rendering her experiences honestly. The resulting application packet was strong; she'd been an excellent student and it was clear she'd be skilled at anything she set her mind to. Still I worried that she would never be a great  psychologist- or, more importantly, a fulfilled one - because her heart wouldn't be  fully in the work.

Perhaps the grad programs felt the same way; all seven schools turned her down. When she told me about the rejections, she said she'd stay in her job for a year, retool her application packet, and submit to more clinical programs the next fall.

Over the course of that year, however, she did the hard work:  reflecting on her skills, interests, and values, and decoupling from her own and others' expectations for her. She realized that - lo and behold - she actually wanted to be a social worker. And when she finally applied to social work programs, they fell over each other trying to snatch her up. She has since made a rich, meaningful career in the field.

Don't Wait for Rejection to Find Your Authentic Fit

All in all, you can wait for the painful blow of rejections - or, more likely, rejectionS - to remind you to reevaluate your path, or you can be more proactive about it. My advice? Sidestep the pain. As much as we love to avoid introspection, isn't it worth sitting down every year and taking stock of your developing understanding of your field and where you see yourself fitting in if it'll save you a rejection (or two, or fifty-nine)?

New Year's is a good time for this annual "mental software upgrade," or set any anniversary that's personally meaningful to you. All that matters is that you stick to it.

And here's one less excuse:  when my new site (WorkingSelf.com) launches on June 24th, you'll find a free little tool waiting there to guide you through the process.

With some proactive introspection, rejection doesn't have to be the wake up call to reconsider the path you're on. Though it could be worse; instead of being rejected from the wrong path, you could be accepted on it, only to wake up five, ten, fifteen years later and realize what a mistake it all was. You know, like I did.

On Friday we'll wrap up the rejection series with a discussion of motivation. See you there!

Every intro psych student thinks they'll be the next Freud. (And is it just me or does this Freud doll somehow evoke Abe Lincoln? Maybe that's Freudian of me...) (Photo credit: Ross Burton)

This is pretty funny. And true. In all seriousness, grad school can be the right path...just make sure you're going IN the right path. For you. (Photo credit: Taekwonweirdo)

The Upside of Rejection: Room for Serendipity

Over the past few months I've faced my fair share of career rejections. It's not so much that I'm being personally "rejected" as that the hobbled economy is drying up many of my freelance, writing, and teaching opportunities. But it sure as heck feels the same. I could take all of the "no's" to heart and feel utterly defeated. And at times I do.

But for the most part I'm oddly buoyed. I'm the crazy (annoying?) sort of person who thinks rejection has an upside. I'm not gonna go all "the mysteries of the universe" on you - totally not my style - but from the POV of an observer of tons of rejection (just watch senior college students job search...), experiencer of plenty of my own (read:  I'm a writer), and, as always, a consummate reader of the psych literature, I now offer you a 3-part series on rejection!

Today's lesson:  there may be serendipity lurking in that turn down.

Serendipity? Isn't That a Bit Woo-woo?

I promised no "mysteries of the universe" and I go talking about serendipity right off the bat?

Well, yes. Because even learned scholars believe that serendipity plays a substantial role in career development. For instance, eminent sociologist Harold Becker wrote, "‘Most of the things that happen to [people] happen ‘by accident'."

Corroboration #2:  at this year's Bates graduation, the panel discussion with the four graduation speakers was entitled "A Life of Purpose, A Life of Serendipity." If my buttoned-up academic institution can embrace the notion, anybody can.

What Serendipity Is and Why it Matters

So let's get down to brass tacks about serendipity. And I'm not talking about some tooty fruity chick flick that I pretend to hate but freakishly adore. Serendipity is happenstance or - to reinstate my academic cred after that embarrassing admission -  "unplanned or unpredictable events," according to researchers Betsworth and Hansen.

In other words, serendipity accounts for the ways we can't plan every step of our path; sometimes a well-timed offer shapes the road we follow. And it happens for many of us:  one study found that 64% of men and 57% of women believed that a serendipitous event played a role in their career.

Serendipitous job matching in particular refers to "situations where routine social interaction unexpectedly leads to opportunities in the labour market."

In other words, one way to think of rejections is as "room for serendipity." Rejections leave you available for opportunities that may suddenly present themselves and for which you could never have planned.

My Fave Example of Serendipity at Work

Here's the classic example I share with my all of downtrodden, rejected students (who, by and large, happen upon an amazing opportunity within weeks of the rejection):  Not long after we moved to Maine, my husband got his first-ever interview for a coaching position, assisting a cross country team at a local high school. We were in our early 20s and this opportunity was BIG TIME - my hubby has been running since we was 8 years old and had been dreaming of coaching for just about as long. We prepped him well for the interview, sent him off all dudded up, and he came back confident and enthusiastic.

Until the call came in two days later:  no job for him.

He was crushed. To put it mildly.

About a week later, he ran into one of his college professors in a store. The prof, who happened to be the cross country coach at the small private college, relayed his frustration at not being able to find a decent Assistant Coach for the upcoming season. TA DA! Since my husband hadn't been offered the other coaching position, he was able to say, "I'm available." And so began a wonderful new job - coaching at a college?! - that made the original opportunity pale in comparison.

The Secret to Making This Work

The only way rejection can serve as "room for serendipity," however, is if you let it. In other words, you have to bounce back from the rejection quickly so that you can be attuned to those "routine social interactions" that lead to serendipitous events. You need to be out in the world, talking to people, living your life in order for this to work out. In common parlance:  not holed up gorging on Ben & Jerry's moaning that your life is over.

And that, my friends, is about as good a reason to bounce back from rejection as any I can muster.

That said, I'll muster two more (hey, why not?):  on Wednesday we'll talk about how rejections can allow for a more authentic fit, and on Friday we'll wrap up the series by viewing rejection as motivation.

In the meantime, tell me:  when has serendipity played a role in your life and/or career? Do you believe it is an important facet of career development?

Reminder:  We're switching over to our new site - www.WorkingSelf.com - on Monday, June 24th! I'm busy moving every pixel and writing every word (in other words, don't get your hopes up TOO high!) and I'm very excited for what I'll be able to offer you all going forward. Those of you who subscribe to my brand new email newsletter will be entered in our first-ever giveaway, so be sure to hop on over in a couple of weeks and sign up!

Sources:

Becker, H. S. (1994) ‘“Foi Por Acaso”: Conceptualizing Coincidence’, The Sociological Quarterly, 35, 183–194.

Betsworth, D. G. and Hansen, J. C. (1996) ‘The Categorization of Serendipitous Career Development Events’, Journal of Career Assessment, 4, 91–98.

McDonald, S. (2010). Right place, right time:  Serendipity and informal job matching. Socio-Economic Review, 8, 307-331.

The hubs with one of the many athletes he's coached over the years.

Step away from the pint. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Is Meaningful, Purposeful Work Reserved for the Privileged Elite?

"All of this talk about finding meaningful and purposeful work is nice and all," one of my students says as we gather around our upper-level seminar table. "But it isn't applicable outside of a small, privileged, affluent population. Most people work because they have to." I love this moment, which happens every single time I teach about meaning and purpose in work. It means at least one person in the class is thinking, engaging, and moving beyond his or her own experiences.

And I hope you've asked the question yourself, in response to a post or two of mine. Like my last post - When Work and You Align - one might question whether such a convergence of self and work is a luxury accessible only by a privileged elite.

My contention is no (not a shocker, is it?). Not only should everyone be entitled to finding meaning and purpose in their work - and reap such benefits as lengthened lifespan, fewer psychological disorders, and better physical health - but I also contend that anyone can find it. If they look for it. Without having to leave their "it pays the bills" job. Even if said job involves low status, low skill, and hard labor.

Skeptical? Good, that means you're still with me.

First let me say this:  I'm sure many people in drudge jobs don't find meaning and purpose in their work.  Just as many people in high pay, white collar jobs don't.

But we only need to look to Candice Billups for proof that it's possible. A custodian in the oncology ward of a hospital, she was interviewed by the William Davidson Institute at the University of Michigan to discuss her work. As she talks, it becomes immediately evident that she finds deep meaning and purpose in her low status job.

Even more notable, it's clear that she actively created - and continues to create - this meaning in her work. It's not something that simply happened to her.

Perhaps the real question is this:  why do we treat meaning and purpose as some sort of mystical cloud that will waft into our lives if we're somehow fortunate and privileged enough?As Ms. Billups demonstrates, depth of feeling about our work is available to all of us, regardless of our particular job or SES or educational background. If only we work to find it. [youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r6JtlhhdjBw]

What do you think? Do you believe meaningful and purposeful work are reserved for the privileged elites? Or are these feelings accessible to all of us?

Exciting note:  Our new site - www.WorkingSelf.com - will launch on Monday, June 24th! Watch for notices about signing up for our brand new email newsletter, and an announcement about our first-ever giveaway. It's time to move out of the classroom, folks, and I hope you'll be graduating with us!

Could waste collectors feel meaning and purpose in their work? Well I'd sure hate to be around if they stopped working, so... (Photo credit: dmourati)

When Work and You Align

I had the coolest experience last week:  I realized that what I do and who I am are one and the same. I don't mean this in some creepy "I live my work, am super-glued to my inbox, and have no life" sort of way. Although maybe some would argue that's true of me! No, I mean it in the wonderful "I love what I'm doing so much that I'd be doing it in my free time even if it weren't my job" type of deal. And let me be clear about one thing:  ten years ago - heck, even five years ago - I wouldn't have even begun to believe this would ever be true.

I'm not telling you this to brag or show off or inspire bitter envy so strong that it makes you throw a pox incantation at my photo. I'm telling you this because I'm astonished that doing what you love is actually possible. For any of us.

Let's back up:  why did this realization suddenly hit me? I suppose it's too strong to say "suddenly;" it's been a dawning realization over the course of the past few years. I certainly wouldn't have started this blog if I hadn't already been realizing it. But I had the true "moment of insight," if you will, when I sat down to complete a work assignment last week.

The department chair at my college earmarks funds for each of the departmental faculty to buy anything that will support our teaching and/or research. With the fiscal year ending on June 1, I was up against a deadline and decided to find some good summer reading to inform my teaching.

So I hit Amazon and ordered 17 - count 'em:  17! - books. It was Christmas, my birthday, and Festivus wrapped into one.

The most incredible part, though, was that about half of those books came directly off my Amazon wish list. Yup, what I'd been longing to read was the same as what I needed to read.

In other words, who I am and what I do is, at long last, one and the same.

Now you might be thinking, "well you're lucky because you're an academic and that's what academics get to do." Valid point. I am lucky. But I didn't always feel lucky. In fact, for a long while I felt disgruntled about my teaching job and would hide what I did from people, dreading the, "wow, that must be a great job!" comment, to which I'd put on a thin smile and nod tightly.

You see, for the first five or so years of teaching, I felt like I had to pretend to be someone else when I stepped within the walls of my plush academic building. I felt like I should be someone who was on a straight path, who cared about pure research, and who believed in the immense power of empiricism above all else. In reality, I was someone who had a rebellious creative streak, who appreciated research of all types but personally wanted to engage in dissemination of others' research, and who wanted to study topics that I believed to be outside the realm of "serious psychology."

But a number of years ago, I became sick of putting on the front. At that point I left the position - intending to never return - and when I chose to come back a year later, it was as a more authentic me.

Into classes that once felt "boilerplate" and that had irked me with their rigidity - such as Intro Psych - I started to infuse ME. For instance, into 101 I put a "Psych In Action" portion in every lecture, during which we discuss direct application of psychology research and theory to students' lives, and actively engage in reflection on ourselves and our lives. And when I was offered an upper-level developmental seminar, I went out on a limb and chose to focus our study on the development of meaning and purpose across the lifespan, topics I was pretty sure I shouldn't be discussing unless I was an erudite old man in the philosophy department or some weirdo pseudoscientific self-help guru.

Since I'm not on the tenure track, there were real risks involved in these decisions; any given year I can be not asked back. In other words, in order for me to make change, the fear of losing my income had to be outweighed by the fear of living a life which wasn't authentic and passionately lived. And right around the age of 30, that tipping point arrived.

At first my students seemed caught off guard by my choices - they were different than what they were used to seeing - but what everyone says about authenticity proved to be true:  when you're your genuine self, people become attracted to you and respect you, even if they disagree with precisely what you're doing, saying or believing.

And that leads me to now:  incredibly - and certainly in no way related to my efforts! - our new college President has created an initiative to infuse purposeful work across the curriculum, co-curricular activities, and student life, and I'm a happy member of the initiative's working group. My colleagues eagerly join in when I suggest a panel on the "meandering path" of life. I teach classes that I'm excited about and fully engaged in, even when they're "tried and true" courses like 101 that don't seem to have any room for personal spin. And, of course, I get to buy books that I'd be reading even if I didn't "have" to.

All this to say:  that impossible dream of creating a life you love and having your identity be inseparable - in a good way - from your work? It actually is possible. You "just" have to start from where you are, become clear about who you are, and begin to infuse bits of you into the elements of your work over which you have some control, however small those elements may be. It won't be an overnight change, but if you craft your work around your self bit by bit by bit, one day you'll wake up and realize that you're doing exactly what you are. Which is why I named my new site (still in design phase...) Working Self - it's all about the intersection of who you are and what you do.

This has been a ten year journey for me. And I certainly still have much journeying ahead. But it feels good to stop and appreciate how far I've come. And to relay how far you can come, too, if you make a mindful effort to do so.

So how about you? Are your work and your self aligned? If not, do you feel yourself moving in that direction? Or do you believe this isn't a worthwhile goal for any of us to pursue?

That's my building. Ridiculously gorgeous, isn't it? It's the main reason why, back in 2003, I took my teaching job rather than a position working with kids with autism. Shallow, huh? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was so happy to leave my teaching position that my friends threw a surprise party to celebrate (this was my chair). It's funny because looking back now, I can't see why I was so happy to leave. Just goes to show that it's not a particular job as much as your perspective on that job that actually matters.

And then I met Patrick Dempsey. Oh wait, that has nothing to do with this post. It just happened to have occurred the same month I left my teaching position so I ran across the pic while searching and figured it would pretty up the page a bit! I mean, how could he not pretty things up?

Who Are You and Why Does Your Work Matter?

Big questions, aren't they? Thankfully there's a super-quick, uber-helpful tool to prod your thinking on these very questions. Available for free! With no catches. (Say what?) I know, I was in disbelief myself. I just completed it as part of a class I'm taking with the wonderful Jenny Blake of Life After College and I couldn't wait to share it with all of you!

It's called the great I AM worksheet and it was created by Alexandra Franzen.

Snag it here, print it out, take 20 minutes and DO it! As in, NOW! (Hey, I'm letting you out of class super early - only 180 words?! From me?! - so you have the time!)

Alexandra herself says there's only one rule:  "Don't Overthink It!" You have no excuse - write fast and get 'er done. Your real work is waiting.

Can't wait to hear what you think - drop me your thoughts in the comment box below!

And let's say a big thanks to Alexandra by flocking over to follow her on Twitter. Twitter following says love.  (Hint, hint, if you're considering getting an apple for the CA101 teacher as the school year winds down...)

Original Video: Passion, Work and Your 20s (A Corny Visual Guide)

I recently got myself involved in a challenge. Or, more appropriately, a dare. I'd been commenting back and forth with actor Steven Sparling, the blogger behind The Thriving Creative (if you haven't checked his site out, you're seriously missing out), and we got to challenging each other to make and post videos on our blogs. Within one week. His creation was posted promptly, had an inspiring message, and was delivered in a straightforward, engaging manner.

And me?

I took the full week to do it, got carried away with iMovie, and employed pipe cleaners and brown-painted styrofoam balls that, it turns out, look like meatballs on camera.

In other words, those posts I wrote about failure? That wasn't just lip service. Since I believe we only make progress by DOING something, here is my earnest fledgling effort. And the truth is I had an absolute blast making and editing this video. However silly it looks!

The video's topic:  My dear high school friend Allie (10-year-anniversary shout out!) forwarded along a story from NPR questioning whether passion is actually important to career. They were reporting on a blog post on Marginal Revolution, in which an Ivy League grad asks how to find a career if he doesn't have any passion.

Is passion needed for a fulfilling career? Watch my 5-minute video to find out (as if you can't guess my response!)

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cg7ISJv6g-8]

Have you tried making any YouTube or Vimeo videos? Would you like to try? I'll lay down the one-week gauntlet for you if you're so inclined! Feel free to post links in the comments.

PS - If you were watching closely, you probably spotted my new website address. Yes, we're moving! More details to come soon...Once I figure out how to use CSS. In other words, maybe never.

The Patchwork Quilt of a Creative Career

I'm honored to have written today's guest post on Chaos and Words, a site created by the lovely Ashley, whom you may remember from her popular guest post, The Twenysomething Identity Crisis. In today's piece I discuss how "career" can be a multi-faceted, pieced-together entity - and why it's great to construct your work in this way, especially if you have creative passions. I hope you go check it out!

Next time I'll unveil the first-ever made-expressly-for-our-site video. Get ready for cornball visuals involving pipe cleaners. Yes, you read that right.

Have a happy Memorial Day!

Why Milestone Birthdays Disappoint - And How to Get Over It

Milestone birthdays come fast and furious in high school and college - 16! 18! 21! - and, by and large, they're pretty hot. Parties! Driving! Drinking! Then everything changes.

25 = Good god, the quarterlife crisis IS real

30 = I'm out of my twenties? Already? And I have what to show for it?

35 = I'm "advanced maternal age"? I only stopped thinking of myself as a kid a year ago; how am I supposed to already be done having kids of my own?! (Men, you're lucky chaps for avoiding this little head-snapper.)

I don't know about you, but as a child playing dress up, I thought all of these birthdays would be pretty darn cool. Well, maybe not 35. That was decrepit. Which, not coincidentally, is the very birthday I hit yesterday.

So today's mission:  figuring out why milestone birthdays reak after the age of 21 and determining what we can we do to combat the suck.

We're Awful At Predicting Our Emotions

• The Problem: We think that future positive events will make us happier than they actually do (on an upbeat note, we also think that negative events will be more devastating than they really are). This is due to a little ditty called the affective forecasting error. You can read about it in great - and surprisingly engaging - detail in Dan Gilbert's  book Stumbling on Happiness. Suffice it to say, though, that when we're young, we think being all grown up will be a hoot. Even a few days before the actual birthday, we may continue to delude ourselves into thinking it'll be one heck of a good time. Not so much.

• The Fix: Here's the good news:  we're not only bad at predicting how happy we'll be in the future, we're also wretched at remembering how happy we were in the past. In fact, after an event has passed, we tend to think that our initial prediction held true. So if you predict that a milestone birthday will be exciting, fun, and empowering, you'll remember it as being just that. Even if it actually blew. In other words, you only have to get through the valley of the less-than-amazing birthDAY to get back to feeling like the milestone birthday was A-OK. (I must have a few more days to go...)

We Forget About Circumstances

• The Problem: When we try to explain why something happened - such as, why we got to age 30 without managing to launch a company, buy an oceanside house, marry the person of our dreams, and land on the cover of Forbes - we have to make an attribution. We could say that we hit the Big 3-0 without reaching our goals because:
  • A:  We're a lazy, stupid, good-for-nothing fool who has no prospects of ever doing anything with the rest of our life.
  • B:  There was a lot going on during the twenties - we were fighting to just pay the bills, were learning the ins and outs of cooking and budgeting and simply existing independently, and were trying to maintain a social life amongst it all - and, besides, it's extremely difficult for anyone to reach the lofty goals we set for ourselves, even if there were no distractors.
• Obviously we're better off if we go with B, the external attribution. Unfortunately when it comes to milestone birthdays, I'd argue that we fall prey to the fundamental attribution error, a thinking problem that leads us to focus solely on individual characteristics while overlooking situations. We usually reserve this error to explain other people's outcomes. Why we focus the laser look on ourselves in honor of our birthdays, I simply don't know. Happy birthday to us, I guess!

• The Fix: Simply be aware of this thinking error so you can correct for it. Every time you start thinking like Scenario A, picture a big, fat, obnoxious Stop sign. Then redirect your attention to all the situations that have gotten in your way (a la Scenario B).

We Overlook What We Have Done

• The Problem: I'm sure you walked out of a college class or two - or all of them - believing you hadn't learned a thing. And, sure, in some of them you actually didn't. But often you simply don't realize how much you'd progressed. On the teacher side of things, I see this all the time. (Am I biased? Sure. But even students who make staggering gains in skills unrelated to my teaching deny the change when I commend them on it.) Similarly, when it comes to milestone birthdays, we look at everything we failed to get done and forget all we have accomplished, both small and large.

• 

  The Fix: Give yourself a birthday gift:  make a list of everything that was meaningful to you that happened over the previous year or five years. I venture to guess you'll be astonished. Sure, it might not be what 8-year-old you wearing mom's pearls and heels might have expected (yes, men, I mean you, too; I know your secrets). All the better:  your kiddo self didn't know a thing about what would actually make adult life rich and full and worth living. You do. Trust that knowledge and celebrate what you've done, learned, and experienced. And don't forget to include this very tidbit of understanding on the list.

If all else fails, at least disappointing milestone birthdays can motivate us to make change. There's nothing that gets you going quite the same as a sharp milestone birthday in the rear. Is it any wonder I woke up at 4:30am today, thinking of work? Thank you hot steaming cup of a disappointing birthday. Much appreciated.

How was your most recent birthday? Did you go easy on yourself?

Related Articles:

• From CA101:
  • Why I Hate "Under 30" Lists
  • The End of Confusion is an Illusion
  • How to Have an Identity Crisis

• From Others:
  • Letting Go of Being Depressed About My Birthday So I Could Actually Enjoy It (Psychology Today)
  • Disappointing Birthday Quotes [It's depressing that so many exist]
  • And two refreshingly upbeat approaches to the 25th birthday:
    • Quarter Life Reflections
    • 25 Truths

Milestone birthdays can feel like a train wreck.

The Creative Path to Personal Fulfillment

It's a big day here at CA101!

1. We have an awesome guest post from Raimy Diaz of Creative-Guru. She was one of CA101's original students, and has been on a fascinating journey to find her path, as you'll soon read. I believe there's no better way to find your road through your twenties than by hearing how your peers are making their way.
2. The post I wrote a few weeks ago, Letters to Graduates: Do No Harm, is being featured today on the fantabulous GenY site The Questionable. My guest post is a shortened, reorganized form of my original post, so I strongly encourage you to check it out...even if you already read the original!

• And now, here's Miss Raimy D:

I grew up in a foreign country, speaking a foreign language, and being completely foreign to my true identity. Last year, after many painful years of being exiled from my self, I decided to return home. My home, my soul, was unwelcoming, cold, and elusive. I don’t blame it for eluding me, I had for so long been shunning it as if somehow it was all wrong. And to think, all this started in an elementary playground where I experienced the first culture shock that triggered an identity crisis and many years of shame, guilt, and fear.

As Cuban political refugees, my family and I were granted welfare assistance and paid rent in a small apartment somewhere in “the hood.” I got to attend a nice inner city school, made up of mostly Mexican and a few African-American students. It was here where it all began. I remember the exact moment:  I was 10 years old, I was in the 5th grade and we were out on the playground for recess. A group of girls and boys were playing tag, I stood out on the sidelines watching excitedly as one of the girls was reaching for a little boy’s shirt collar, I yelled “cojelo, cojelo.” In Spanish-- let me rephrase- in “Cuban Spanish,” the word cojer means to get. What I thought I was saying was “get him,” what my little peers heard was “get some.” Unbeknownst to me, the word “cojer” in  Mexican lingo means something completely offensive, with heavy sexual innuendo. The stares I got right after the word escaped my mouth were painfully humiliating. I had no clue what had gone wrong and why everyone all of a sudden just stopped running.

This was when I first realized that my Spanish was not their Spanish, that it was different, and different was not good.  I was teased endlessly for that and then some more for my funny accent. You see when Cubans speak Spanish it sounds like an angry rap, when Mexicans speak Spanish it sounds like a melodious ballad. I wanted desperately to make friends, I was in a lonely and strange city with no extended family and no friends, and I would do whatever it took to fit in, even changing the way that I spoke. To blend in with the Mexican little girls, I started mimicking their speech styles and patterns. Eventually, it was so well ingrained that when I would meet new people they would say “but you don’t sound anything like a Cuban.” I would smile and consider myself a success.

The rest of my adolescent years were comprised of similar cultural encounters each eroding my identity into tinier and tinier pieces. I spent a such long time trying to be anyone else but me, eventually I lost my real identity.  This loss led to unnerving anxiety and stress and shame and guilt and fear, lots of fear. The moment I renounced my true self for a more “acceptable” pseudo-self, I inherited a world of fear-- a paranoid fear of being found out and being exposed for the fake that I really was.

I developed a debilitating social anxiety and was in mental turmoil even while alone. When you don’t know who you are as a human being and are unaware of your individuality, living becomes a real ordeal. Veiled behind fear and social anxiety, I couldn’t even see which direction to take my life in. I felt misplaced and embarrassed that even at the late age of 24, I was still wandering. Setting goals that were in line with my true self was impossible, I had no clear sense of self so how could I realistically expect achievement of myself. I was completely unaligned within; what I frantically needed was physical, mental, and spiritual calibration.

At first I turned to self-help literature. Soon I found that scientific, well researched pieces of data did little to comfort me. It was a different type of literature that made sense to me, the kind that comes from the soul and speaks to the soul- poetry, art, and creative writing. Only when I started embracing the creative-spiritual path did all the pieces start to fall into place. Only when I turned inward was I finally able to see the outward picture.

Creative-Guru I call it, my soul searching project-- the process by which I started becoming comfortable with myself by identifying who I really am as person, both physically and spiritually. Through creative exercises such as subconscious drawing, poetry writing, and color meditation I’ve come to learn my self anew. I found the root of many of my fears and insecurities and have gained the confidence and courage to start moving toward realizing my dream of writing and designing for a living. I’m no longer afraid of what others might think when I tell them I want to create for a living, this is me and I can’t for the life of me try to be something else.

There are many ways to go about finding yourself, your purpose, your career path. For me the way was poetic spirituality. For some, this way may seem too impractical, new agey, and incompatible with who they are and that’s fine. The important thing is realizing which way does speak to you and gaining the necessary self-awareness that leads to a fulfilling life.

For too long I was unaware and because of that, I constantly worried about creating an impression, meeting expectations, putting on pretenses, and being judged. It hurt like hell living like that and creative soul searching helped me heal. I forgave myself for all the pain that denying my truth caused and decided to share my experience with others who might be going through a similar hell. To be true to your soul, to live purposefully, to seek self-knowledge and to live in light, these are the creative soul searching objectives at www.creative-guru.com. If you are up for a little soul searching stop by, the first step to becoming comfortable with yourself is to start identifying who you really are.

Labels are for Packages, not People

I'm honored to have today's guest post for Raimy D's Creative-Guru site. Raimy was a key supporter when I first started my blog; without her enthusiastic comments, I might have thrown in the towel early on. Thank you, Raimy, for "getting" what I was putting out there in the beginning, and for the opportunity to be a part of your site for the day!

Why the F-Word is Key to Your Future

If you don't care about your life beyond age 30, you can stop reading right now; you can probably get through until then without the F-word. But if you're looking to build a life you find fulfilling, meaningful and authentic to your true self - and I hope that's what my readers are looking for! - then you absolutely need to start using the F-word. Liberally.

No, I haven't just given you permission to use that F-word. (Although if that floats your boat, go for it. Just not in the office, kay?) The F-word I'm talking about is feminism. Egad - THAT F-word. Before you click away, I give you one challenge:  read through to the end of this post before deciding whether to discount the F-word.

And MEN: don't you dare go running away on me now that you've seen the word "feminism." What I'm about to discuss will affect your choices just as much as women's, as you'll see in the final segment of this post. Besides, feminist men are uber-sexy (have you never seen Porn for Women and Porn for New Moms?) AND "couples who share domestic responsibilities have more sex," according to Facebook's COO Sheryl Sandberg. Reason enough, now isn't it?

Why I'm Bringing This Up Now

A week and a half ago I had the incredible pleasure of wandering around Harvard Square with my husband, a blissful, rare experience I savor all the more now that I have an energetic toddler who typically chains us to home (don't you look forward to this stage of life?). At the Harvard Coop, I found a lone autographed copy of Sandberg's new book Lean In:  Women, Work, and the Will to Lead.

Someone had recently implored me to read it, but I honestly wasn't interested. I mean, I've never been on the corporate track, I don't "get" the business world, and besides, I'm now a stay-at-home mom two days a week who certainly doesn't have a high-powered career, much less has any "leadership" qualifications.

But it was autographed. And 30% off. So I bought it.

Shallow reasons? Indeed. But, wow, what a purchase.

Since I had nothing to read in the hotel room that night, I took a peek. And I've been devouring the book ever since. My. Favorite. Read. In. Years. Hands down. And, shall we say in the understatement of the century, I like to read. So this is no small endorsement.

While the book is categorized under "Business Management," I'd label it as the contemporary mainstream feminist treatise, the likes of which we haven't known since The Feminine Mystique.

Let's Get Clear on the F-Word

If you're like the general American population, only a quarter of you female readers consider yourself a feminist. And presumably even fewer of you males, although I can't even find a figure on that - which is a sad fact in and of itself. (Even sadder? When you type "how many feminists" into Google, you receive countless pages of "How many feminists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" with some highly offensive answers to follow.)

Feminism has become the dirty word of twentysomething culture, equated with bra-burning, hostility, and overt male hatred. Even Sheryl Sandberg says throughout Lean In that she never thought of herself as a feminist, and doesn't come clean with the line "now I proudly call myself a feminist" until page 158 of 172.

So let's get this perfectly clear:

A feminist is someone who believes in the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes. - Lean In

When presented with that definition, 65% of women say they are indeed feminists.

I personally believe that feminism is about even more than this. My senior year in college I was provided with the following definition of feminism (paraphrased and warped by memory):

Feminism focuses on the full and equal inclusion of people from all walks of life into the fabric of our society.

That was a definition I could get behind.

Even still, I've never come out loudly and eagerly as a feminist; my choice of a hyphenated last name is as far as I've gone. At times I've even denied the label, especially around my stay-at-home mom friends. Which, after reading Lean In, strikes me as a true shame and a lack of personal character.

So here I am:  feminist and proud of it. And eager to get you to buy in, too. Here's why:

Why The F-Word Matters

As you look to designing your future, you need to embrace the F-word. Regardless of your gender. For two primary reasons:

1.  Personal Fulfillment

Obviously I'm a hyper-proponent of finding work that matters to you, that makes you feel engaged and purposeful, and that you'll be able to one day look back upon with a sense of personal integrity and authenticity.

We simply cannot do this work if options are closed off to us. It's like saying:  sure humans can fly to Mars, if only the radiation didn't kill us. Uh, that means we can't (currently) go to Mars.

We can only become our truest selves if we have every option genuinely open to us; our inner selves know no bounds. Today, though, our options are indeed limited, for both men and women:

Despite all the gains we have made, neither men nor women have real choice. Until women have supportive employers and colleagues as well as partners who share family responsibilities, they don't real choice. And until men are fully respected for contributing inside the home, they don't have real choice either. Equal opportunity is not equal unless everyone receives the encouragement that makes seizing those opportunities possible. Only then can both men and women achieve their full potential. - Lean In

Sheryl Sandberg defines "real choice" as occurring once women run half our countries and men run half our homes. Given that only 8% of the independent countries in the world have female leaders, and less than 4% of stay-at-home parents are fathers, let's just say we have a ways to go.

To be clear, this definition of "real choice" is not saying that any given individual will want - or should want - to run a country or run a home. All it's saying is that we should all have the option of doing whatever we want. And right now, that's simply not the case.

2. A More Productive World

Going beyond the personal to the communal, involving people from all backgrounds equally in work settings has been shown to benefit us all:

The laws of economics and many studies of diversity tell  us that if we tapped the entire pool of human resources and talent, our collective performance would improve...When more people get in the race, more records will be broken. And the achievements will extend beyond those individuals to benefit us all. - Lean In

I couldn't agree more. For instance, Olympic records would not be at the outer limits of human capacity if not for the breaking of the color barrier, according to the New York Times.

There's more to be said about Lean In and how I see it relating specifically to twentysomethings, but I've lexically assaulted you enough for one day. Next time we'll pick it up with more specifics on why the F-word matters for your future, and how to make real changes that can make a difference for you, your peers, and your off-in-the-hazy-distance children.

So what do you think? Are you a feminist? Did this post begin to change your opinion on this matter in any way, shape or form? If not, what needs to happen to make you feel comfortable calling yourself a "feminist"?

Related Posts:

Why Are Women Scared to Call Themselves Feminists? (Salon)

Beyonce is a 'Feminist, I Guess' (The Cut)

Feminism ISN'T a Dirty Word (The Daily Mail - UK)

And I happen to wholly disagree with the following post - you only need to believe in #1 to be a feminist. I don't believe in many of the points that follow it:

15 Signs You're Actually a Feminist (PolicyMic)

There's a lot of hoopla over words that start with such a pretty letter. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jesse Owens helped to redefine the limits of human potential. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Three Lessons Worth Taking from the TIME Cover Story on Millennials

Let's start with what we already know:  the recent TIME cover article about millennials is little more than a desperate bid to boost sales.

The cover itself simply restates hackneyed stereotypes about today's twentysomethings - lazy, narcissistic, entitled - which The Atlantic compellingly demonstrates has been said - probably correctly - about just about every generation of young people. Not only that, but the cover, meant to raise hackles and get you scrambling to pay for a copy, doesn't truly match the article inside. In fact, the author, Joel Stein, thinks you guys will be just fine. And I happen to agree.

Doesn't make for much of a story now does it?

So is there anything worth taking from the latest media spotlight on millennials? Here's what I gleaned:

Let High Career Expectations Drive You

The TIME article discusses the self-esteem movement we've touched upon in the past - the one that made you feel special for simply rubbing a crayon across a piece of pulp - and then blames it for raising your career expectations too high:

"This generation has the highest likelihood of having unmet expectations with respect to their careers and the lowest levels of satisfaction with their careers at the stage that they're at," says Sean Lyons, co-editor of Managing the New Workforce: International Perspectives on the Millennial Generation. "It is sort of a crisis of unmet expectations."

Lyons' observation is probably true. From my experience, Millennials in general have high hopes for their careers, not necessarily in terms of wanting "success" but rather in desiring work they can feel good about doing. You want to something that goes beyond "career" to something that's more meaningful to yourselves.

Does that "meaningful to self" indicate that you're narcissistic? Well if it does, live it up, people, because we know that individuals who experience greater meaning in their lives have higher levels of life satisfaction, work enjoyment, and happiness. Those, in turn, can result in better quality work that has the potential of having a broad impact on society.

Not to mention that if something is meaningful to you personally, it's likely meaningful to someone else (and probably many someone elses). In other words, its value extends far beyond yourself.

So Point Number One:  Revel in your unmet expectations about career. Demand more from your career. And from your employers, which takes us to Point Number Two.

Demand That Companies Accommodate Your Higher-Level Needs

You're a powerful force. Not just anyone gets on the cover of TIME magazine, after all. (Alright, that's debatable.)

In any event, your power has the potential to change corporate structure, according to the article:

Companies are starting to adjust not just to millennials' habits but also to their atmospheric expectations. Nearly a quarter of DreamWorks' 2,200 employees are under 30, and the studio has a 96% retention rate. Dan Satterthwaite, who runs the studio's human-relations department and has been in the field for about 23 years, says Maslow's hierarchy of needs makes it clear that a company can't just provide money anymore but also has to deliver self-actualization. During work hours at DreamWorks, you can take classes in photography, sculpting, painting, cinematography and karate.

And why shouldn't we expect self-actualization from our work? We've long passed the point of needing to toil all day simply to kill the animals and grind the grain that we need for tonight's dinner. You guys get that, and so you want more.

Good - demand it. With your feet.

Yes, the economy sucks right now. Yes, you can't go walking out on a perfectly good job in this particular climate. But guess what, in two years or five or ten, employees will be able to do that again. Just like we 2000-era college graduates did. Don't let this downturn in the job market change the way you see the employer-employee relationship, making you feel beholden and grateful because they're dishing out a salary to you.

So here's Point Number Two:  Maintain your feisty desire for "more" from your jobs and, as a group, demand that companies be like DreamWorks, providing for your whole self and replenishing your capacities, as opposed to draining from your energy and cognitive reserves while covering little more than your safety and physiological needs.

And if the companies can't or won't make these changes, then make it happen yourself, which happens to be Point Number Three.

Be the Inventors of Your Own (and Others') Futures

I strongly believe that come twenty years from now, your generation will have the largest proportion of entrepreneurs and self-employed individuals than any generation preceding you. And I'm not talking about founding big companies; I'm talking about simply working for yourself. And maybe having an employee or two.

Many factors have me believing this, not limited to the potential for affordable individually-purchased health insurance once the Health Insurance Marketplace opens in 2014; a job market that can't accommodate all of the college graduates spilling into the world and, due to changes in technology, may never do so again; and your willingness to take calculated risks and create for yourself what others fail to create for you.

Tom Brokaw said it best, in the TIME article:

Their great mantra has been: Challenge convention. Find new and better ways of doing things. And so that ethos transcends the wonky people who are inventing new apps and embraces the whole economy.

I hope you'll seize on the ingredients for entrepreneurship that are so ripe in your laps. For if you do, you'll not only delve into work that is meaningful to yourselves, you'll also create small businesses that look after others' self-actualization needs, too.

In other words, Point Number Three is that you have the potential to address Point Number One and Point Number Two with your own industrious, creative power.

Find what you're passionate about, figure out how to sculpt that passion such that it meets a gap in other people's lives, and then market that gap-filling to bring you income while doing what you love and meeting a real need in the world.

That's the recipe for millennial success, in my opinion. And we didn't need a controversial Time cover piece to tell us it.

What did you take from the TIME article? Did you even bother to read it?

Source:

Steger, M. F., Frazier, P., Oishi, S., Kaler, M. (2006). The meaning in life questionnaire: Assessing the presence of and search for meaning in life. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 53(1), 80-93.

Cover Credit: PHOTOGRAPH BY ANDREW B. MYERS FOR TIME; STYLING BY JOELLE LITT

Maslow's hierarchy of needs. Aim for the top, baby. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Meandering Path

Welcome to our first ever CA101 video presentation! In early April, I organized a panel discussion at Bates College called "The Meandering Path" in which psychology professors (including yours truly) discussed the routes they took through their 20s. The main point of the evening was that even when people end up in the same profession, the roads they take to get there vary greatly. In addition, although you can't always see where you're heading as you're trudging through your 20s, as long as you continue forward motion, you do end up somewhere. And, if you introspect and are authentic and intentional, that somewhere is often wonderful.

The panel was taped and is now available on YouTube:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCyF3Pno4zg?list=PLOJKldfabwv2f8jf5zP0Y6It4P4zBS7E8&w=560&h=315]

On the videos (five connected clips that run about 55 minutes in total), I provide a short introduction, then each faculty member - and our department's terrific support staff member, Brian Pfohl, who did the YouTube uploading - talks for about 5 to 10 minutes about their path, followed by brief concluding remarks from me.

If you decide to skip around, I highly recommend watching Professor Michael Sargent's segment in particular (it starts at 4:30 into the Fourth Video). And if you aren't yet bored with hearing about my path, you can see my segment starting at 5:55 on the Third Video.

I'd love your feedback after you watch it - what was helpful? What was less so? What do you wish we had discussed? I'm already mentally planning next year's panel, so your thoughts would be invaluable!

Who's In Your Rear-View Mirror?

Yesterday a large, black, Chevy truck rode right on my tail as I brought my daughter home from daycare. Even though I knew it was a cop-infested stretch of road, I found myself going 15 mph above the speed limit.

Just ignore him, I kept telling myself, but every time I took my foot off the accelerator, he'd loom large in my rear-view mirror and I couldn't help but speed back up. When he finally turned, the release of tension was palpable. What that sound?, my toddler asked in response to my exhalation.

It was ridiculous. Some stranger in a car behind me could affect my actions that much? I was making the decisions about when to gas it and when to brake. Why did it feel like he was the one dictating the drive?

This got me to thinking about my undergraduates. As I talk to them about their lives and their future plans, all too often everyone and everything imaginable leaps into the conversation. We're suddenly having a chat about their parents, other professors, their friends, "society."

It's your car, I tell them in far too many words. Why are you letting everybody else drive your life?

Because those people and things are the menacing black Chevy in their rear-view mirrors. And maybe in yours.

With this analogy in mind, I challenge you to take fifteen minutes and answer some questions for yourself - on paper. (Yes, writing it down makes a difference. Prof says so.) With any luck, at the end you just might feel like the hulking Chevy has finally turned, leaving you free to roam down the road at your own pace.

1. How often do you look in your rear-view mirror?

Are you someone obsessed with monitoring everything and everyone around you (that's me), or are you able to block the world out and live according to your own devices? If you're the former, you're going to have to learn how to block out the menacing cars in your rear-view.

If you're the latter, you're not off the hook; you might be going too fast and could benefit from looking around and seeing some "slow down" signals once in a while.

2. At what speed do you naturally travel?

When it comes to life, what's your natural speed of travel? Are you someone who likes to go 50 in a 35? Or do you prefer to go precisely the speed limit, or just a few notches above? Perhaps you're someone who likes to keep things slow; you're the car chugging along in the right lane of the highway, doing a steady 45 in the 65. (I do curse you at times, I must admit.)

None of these paces is necessarily "wrong." But if going the speed limit translates into doing what's developmentally appropriate for your age, then perhaps there's something to be said for sticking somewhat close to it. If you go "too fast" you might surpass your abilities and find yourself in uncomfortable, overwhelming circumstances. If you go "too slow," however, you might miss out on opportunities and fail to push yourself out of your comfort zone.

In any event, it's important to know how you like to travel, before considering how others influence your travel.

3. Who and/or what is in your rear-view mirror?

Now it's time for some brainstorming. Create a list of everything that influences you, whether it be positively or negatively. Try to get as specific as you can. For instance, if you talk about "society" affecting you, what exactly do you mean?

Then rank the list. Which affects you most, and which the least?

4. What effect does each of the entities in your rear-view have on your natural speed?

Next to your ranked list, write a "SU" next to the entities that make you "speed up" or that push you in some way. Put a "N" next to entities that have a neutral effect on your speed. And write a "SD" next to the ones that in some way encourage you to slow down.

Reflect back on your natural speed from Q1. Do you think you should, in general, be traveling faster or slower than you naturally do? This tells you whether "SU," "SD," and "N" are positive or negative for you. For example, if you typically drive the speed limit, both the "SU" and "SD" influences may be negative; but if you naturally drive too fast, the "SD" people may be great and the "N" people may be questionable.

With this in mind, circle the entities that have a negative effect on you, and star the ones that have a positive effect.

5. For the entities that are affecting your speed negatively, how can you "black out" your rear-view mirror?

The starred entities are the ones you should have in your rear-view mirror in unlimited measures. They're the people and things you need to glance back and see on a regular basis, so don't let yourself forget that they're there.

The circled, negative entities, though - my big, black Chevy, as it were - need to be handled. You don't need them out of your life - they're probably adding much to your existence, even if they're affecting your speed inappropriately - you just need to learn to stop seeing them when you're driving. So do something totally illegal:  black out that rearview mirror!

You especially need to "black it out" when you're about to "make a turn." Decision points are the most crucial moments to ignore what's behind you or you may very well go the wrong way, like we discussed in our recent class on regret.

So your final task is to brainstorm strategies to black out the mirror. The strategies need to be specific to you, but might include:

• Finding ways of distracting yourself from the lurking entities. Think of it as turning the radio way up and singing your heart out during the drive.
• Creating a mantra that resonates for you that you can repeat when you feel the influences bearing down. Something like "I'm driving, I'm in control, this is my car."
• If you're a visual person, closing your eyes and literally picturing yourself in a car with black paint smeared across the back window. See yourself in the enclosed space all alone, free to think without distraction. Feel what it's like in this space, in as much detail as you can muster, using all five senses (just what does an empty car taste like?!). If the thought of being alone in the car makes you feel anxious rather than relaxed, then pop a starred person from Question 3 into the passenger seat. Feel better?

All in all, I wish you safe and happy travels, full of the knowledge that the only person with the foot hovering over the pedals is you. There may be an entourage rivaling the President's motorcade trailing behind you, but they can't drive your car.

If only that had worked with my huge Chevy.

My intimidator looked a lot like this. But I swear it was a Chevy. Not that I really know car makes... (Photo credit: kenjonbro)

There's too much clutter back there. (Photo credit: ChristopherTitzer)

Are you traveling in the right zone? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Seems pretty neutral to me. (Photo credit: eschulz)

Make that back window nice and dark! (Photo credit: aresauburn™)

How to Have an Identity Crisis

An identity crisis sounds like an awful experience. And, sure, having one doesn't feel terrific:  you're searching, unsure of who you are or what you're going to do next, and open to more possibilities than Lindsay Lohan is to court appearances. But as we've discussed in the past, identity crises are absolutely necessary. If you don't have one (or two, or three), you'll never fully understand who you are. And thus never feel entirely fulfilled.

So here are some pointers on how to have a good old-fashioned identity crisis. And how not to.

DO:  Take action.

An identity crisis isn't about sitting around doing nothing, reading mellow poetry, and coining metaphysical sayings like "What we are is only what we think we are." Uh, no. Sure you have to be willing to look at yourself - deeply - but the best way to do that is by getting out there. As in, living life. And reflecting on that living as you go.

Psychologist Meg Jay makes this point in her book The Defining Decade, writing "Twentysomethings who take the time to explore and also have the nerve to make commitments along the way construct stronger identities. They have higher self-esteem and are more persevering and realistic."

To be is to do. Or something deep like that.

DON'T:  Search for perfection.

If you think exploring options and finding your true self will lead you to the perfect life, think again. In fact, people who have been through identity crises tend to experience more anxiety and depression than those who have avoided them (the former do experience many positive things, like greater meaning in life, so don't let this fact scare you off!).

The reality is that you're searching for a "best fit" for your life. The goal is to get in touch with your innate preferences and your ideal life conditions and to forge a life based around that knowledge. As best you can.

Even if you manage to succeed in creating that exact life - tell me your secret, if so - you'll still find things you'd like to change. That's called being human.

We're looking for good enough here people. Not "I love every aspect of my entire existence at all times." That doesn't exist for anyone.

DO:  Take your past into consideration.

My students seem to think they'll be blank slates when they graduate from college, as if they're starting on day one of creating their identities. Not so much. Meg Jay puts it well when she says, "You've spent more than two decades shaping who you are. You have experiences, interests, strengths, weaknesses, diplomas, hang-ups, priorities. You didn't just this moment drop onto the planet."

In other words, let your past help you. Yes, there may be aspects of your old self that you want to jettison (the emo phase, anyone?), but the self-knowledge you've gained to date can help you get through an identity crisis, not hold you back. You're not at square one. It's pure histrionics to insist otherwise. (Believe me, my 20something journal is filled with just such dramatic insistences.)

DON'T:  Commit before you're ready.

Here's the classic pattern I see in my college seniors:  they come in midyear saying things like, "I have no idea what I want to do next. I'm totally lost. What's going to happen after I graduate?" Total identity crisis mode.

Then a month or two later, I see them again and prod them about the progress they've made toward answering those questions. They look at me blankly and say something like, "What? Oh, I'm all set. I've decided to be a _______ (usually something they never, ever mentioned in four years of meeting with me). No worries."

I call this the Panic Pick. Being in an identity crisis feels uncomfortable. In response you reach out and grab the first viable option that drops before you. It's roughly equivalent to beer goggles. Or wedding hook-ups.

Panic Picks don't result in identity achievement. They result in a false identity called moratorium. Which is a state you'll regret later.

DO:  Explore a wide range of options.

Bottomline:  You have to try things out in order to emerge from an identity crisis successfully. You can't think your way out of one, can't randomly cling onto something and hope it'll carry you through life, can't ignore the questions and pray they'll answer themselves. We become who we are by seeing what works and what doesn't. And then adjusting accordingly.

I think of it like buying jeans:  can you tell which will fit you just by holding them up and looking at them? Or, worse yet, grabbing the first pair you see and running to the counter with them? I certainly can't. (And even after trying on 30 pairs, I still end up with saggy loser jeans that aren't right. Sigh.)

So embrace this as a time to explore. Yes, you need to pay the bills. Do that. And then during your time off, try on jeans, as it were. Volunteer at organizations you've been curious about. Say yes to social offers. Take on low-commitment, unique part-time gigs. See what free experiential opportunities have popped up on Craigslist. Do things that shove you out of your comfort zone.

My favorite thing about my twenties (despite the angst and confusion) was all the things I did, now that I look back at them:  volunteered at a lighthouse; worked as a secretary at a creative nonprofit (the only professor who answered phones - poorly - on her off days); scored SAT essays; volunteered at a youth writing center; stayed for weeks at a time in stinky, stripped dorm rooms while learning about fiction writing. All while married, working full-time, and living in a not-so-culturally-plentiful state. Exploration is a state of mind, not a situation. You make it for yourself.

DON'T:  Consider every conceivable option.

That said, explore options within reason. As we discussed in Awash in Choices, too many choices spells psychological disaster. You'll notice that nearly everything I did in my 20s was vaguely writing related. I was feeling out the many borders of my favorite option. My actions may have looked disjointed to people around me - and often even to myself - but there was a theme.

As Meg Jay says after working with twentysomethings in clinical practice for over a decade, "I have yet to meet a twentysomething who has twenty-four truly viable options. Each person is choosing from his or her own six-flavor table, at best."

In other words, let your limited - albeit plentiful - options feel exciting rather than paralyzing. Then you can have an identity crisis worth talking about. Once its over.

What's your experience of the identity crisis? What has helped you get through it?

Related articles

From CA101:

Dodge Discomfort

Why Your Friends Have It All Figured Out (And You Don't)

Is the Search for an Authentic Self Worth the Hassle?

Finding Yourself is the Creative Challenge of Your Twenties

From others:

Identity Crisis - Theory and Research (about.com)

Are You Having an Identity Crisis? (Psychology Today)

The Defining Decade: Identity Capital Part I (Ask the Young Professional)

Is she having a crisis? Probably. But not a productive one. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There are parts of our past selves we'd rather forget. But the knowledge can help us move forward. (Photo credit: IvanClow)

Ever wanted to be one of those moving statues? Now's your time to try it out. Or maybe not. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)