Category Archives: Career

My Biggest Mistake Applying for Jobs Post-Graduation

Posted on by under Career, Observations and Reflections, UBC

Sorry for the clickbaity title, but hey, we know it works.

I went through four very self-assured years as an English major, hating the “What will you do post-grad?” question but always having some kind of answer: one that would satisfy…

  1. my grandma
  2. my partner’s parents
  3. my friend pursuing a Bachelor of Science
  4. etc.

I won’t bother giving you the half-artificial answers I gave these people, most of whom were genuinely and benignly curious about what kind of life I would have with this kind of undergraduate “training,” if you even want to call it that, but here’s the real answer: I had only but a faint, faint clue. As I approached graduation, I fixated a lot on the people who I knew graduated with English degrees from UBC. Outside of graduate school students, none of them had the same job. Editor at Penguin Random House. Sociology professor. Teacher. Lawyer. Public relations professional. Executive director at a non-profit.

More importantly, none of them planned out the steps to get where they ended up at that time that I spoke to them. I was hyper aware of this fact throughout my job application process, so I wasn’t too worried about the fact that I didn’t know exactly what the next steps were.

In my journal roughly around graduation time, I wrote out all the things I knew I cared about in a professional life, and they were vague, broad things like being community-centred, words-based, team-oriented. Having a work-life balance. Believing in my employer’s mission or cause. This approach was right, but not necessarily helpful at the time when I was applying for jobs.

So my approach shifted, for the worse, toward “not being picky.” Despite my confidence that I would be some kind of okay, I also knew that I didn’t know what was really out there, what I was good at, and what the world wanted from me. So I applied for jobs thinking I didn’t really have the room to be picky. In other words, I applied for jobs that I knew I wouldn’t take even if I was made an offer, which put me in difficult positions, because I would either get offers that felt like I should accept but didn’t want to, or I couldn’t commit fully to a hiring process, which really shows during an interview. Employers can tell when you’re bought in, and when you’re not.

Here was my biggest mistake: I should have, and could have, been picky.

I want to emphasize that what I’m sharing here is my specific experience. I know that this isn’t the case for everyone, so take what I’m saying with a grain of salt, and what I’m saying is: Have optimism, but it’s not going to be easy. Applying for jobs was draining. I shouldn’t have been, but by June, I felt discouraged and impatient. I also wanted to be earning money. And, I can’t emphasize this enough, applying for jobs was so much work. I am no stranger to the job application process: the nature of getting jobs through UBC, whether through co-op (which I didn’t do) or internship programs or Work Learn (both of which I did do), is you have to apply for multiple positions. So I was used to applying for multiple jobs at once, but I cannot stress the dramatic increase in volume for post-graduation job applications versus during school, for positions meant only for students.

I kept a spreadsheet to keep track of jobs I applied for, which I’m not saying you have to do, but if you know me then you know that lists and spreadsheets and planning and tracking is just generally kind of my style. Largely due to my “don’t-be-picky” strategy, I ended up applying for over 50 jobs until I got an offer for a position I was excited about at an organization that I believed in. Had I known at the beginning what I know now, that number would probably be cut in half.

So, how did my application process change? After doing a few interviews (over the phone and in person), getting one offer and a few rejections, and doing a little bit of travelling, I realized that I needed to stop applying for jobs I didn’t see myself accepting, ever. If I didn’t like it from the posting, I wouldn’t like it during the interview or even if I get the offer.

I also started focusing on the opportunities in front of me. I got so caught up in jobs that I thought were such a good fit that when I got invited to interviews for other jobs, I would only half-commit to those interviews because I thought other invitations would be coming. They didn’t.

When Dixon showed up as an opportunity, I genuinely thought I didn’t have much of a chance, based both on my experience over the last couple of months and how (un)qualified I thought I was. Despite what I thought, I was invited to an interview. I did my research (unbeknownst to me when i applied, I had two friends who had worked at Dixon). I went to the interview, and at that point, I knew that my predictions didn’t really amount to anything, so I wasn’t holding my breath. I had also, around the same time, interviewed for a digital internship for a private sector job that I was pretty confident I would get, and I would have accepted either, but I knew I wanted Dixon.

I accepted because–and I can’t emphasize this enough–Dixon had such a good reputation in my community, and the people were obviously fantastic from the get-go. Everything else fell into place perfectly around that: I would be challenged in this position because, even if I am qualified (which I am), it’s a step up for me. That was another reason I accepted. Yet another reason was that the position was only four days a week. I could have been making more at another job with full-time hours, but this way I would have time and energy to develop professionally in other ways, or time to devote to myself, or I could keep teaching skating, which would make up the income that I lose in working only 28 hours a week.

But at the time that I accepted, these things weren’t obvious yet. I mentioned earlier that I had been feeling discouraged and impatient: these were factors, and I can’t deny that. I wanted to start making money, and I would have accepted the next offer I got at that point, especially since I was being pickier in my process. I got incredibly lucky with my situation, but I also won’t diminish the fact that I worked hard to be able to get here.

I planned out almost every hour of my four years of undergrad. So you can understand my frustration with this fact, something which I knew but didn’t really learn until this spring: there is no exact science to applying for jobs, or being offered jobs. Sometimes it really is just timing. Fit. Luck. Things that are completely out of your control. It sucks. But it’s not so dreary as all the Grown-Ups told me when I talked about my English degree. My biggest takeaway from this experience is a real faith in the Universe in being able to work things out, if not in ways that you expect. More often, actually, in ways that you don’t expect. So be patient. Trust the process. And, especially if you’re a liberal arts major, be brave. Be open to the possibilities, and be especially open to the possibilities you can’t even imagine.

6 Lessons I Learned from my First Full-time Job

Posted on by under Career, Observations and Reflections, UBC

I just finished a Canada Summer Jobs position at Mom2Mom Child Poverty  Initiative, and am heading back to school (for the last time in my BA!!!) next week.

After spending quite literally all my money in Europe earlier this summer, I returned home at the poorest I’ve been since I started making my own money, and all I really wanted was a job–ideally one that would pad my resume, pay off my trip, and would understand that I was going back to school in the fall. Mom2Mom’s Canada Summer Jobs posting showing up on my Facebook feed was absolutely providential for all those reasons, but I definitely got so much more than just a job and paycheque. I learned so many things that I can hardly distill it into a list, but here are 3 things I learned about working, and then 3 things I learned from working at Mom2Mom.

It was my first time working a full-time position. There was probably only one week in my life that I worked upwards of 35 hours before this summer, so having a 9-5 office job was new to me. The weekend before I started at Mom2Mom, I was chatting with some friends who had been doing full-time co-op jobs all summer or all year, and they talked like people tired of their full-time jobs, tired of spending 40 hours at the same place doing the same thing every day, and listening to them, I felt a little bit of dread for what I thought I knew would be a dull, mundane office life.

It was also my first time working for a non-profit, although I’ve always been involved with a number of non-profits, always a volunteer. I’ve always known that it’s not glamorous, and that it would never make me rich, which is perhaps why I never seriously considered working in non-profits as a career.

On both fronts, my expectations and assumptions were seriously questioned and then proven wrong.

#1:

I bring so much more than just “English major” to the table. It was very cool that my boss graduated from the same program and the same university that I did, and it probably helped both in terms of getting the job and in terms of getting the job done, but what I actually did at Mom2Mom, and what I did well, cannot be fully expressed when I tell strangers that I am an English major, Law & Society minor.

#2

I distinctly remember my mom telling me when I was very, very young that she wanted to do anything but an office job. I’ve seen the media caricature the office drone at a computer, tapping at keys for 8 hours and then going home to a greyscale life. What I forgot to consider is how I would fit into that frame. I have always been a go-getter. I love setting goals for myself and getting things done.

Working a 9-5 office job just means that I can leave work and I can actually leave work. When I leave school, I come home to do more school. Every English major knows that doing reading for pleasure is out of the question during the semester; sure, you might be on top of your reading (if you’re lucky!), but you can always read ahead, so why bother starting something for your own leisure reading?

This summer, I got to spend my transit time reading books that I chose. I got to write more, watch Netflix when I got home, go to the gym, hang out with friends, and more, because I had a 9-5 office job. My life became fuller of things I love and am passionate about because working at Mom2Mom left me with time and energy to do so. It also meant I could go back to work ready to get stuff done. I was a better employee because I was better to myself.

#3

I have always loved school. I love reading deeply, writing thoughtfully, and thinking critically. That, coupled with the fact that I like a challenge, always suggested to me that staying in academia makes sense, because wouldn’t a 9-5 office job, doing admin or comms, be mundane?

In fact, I found myself confronting impossible problems and internal conflicts throughout my term at Mom2Mom, and I was always thinking critically, which brings me to my third set of lessons.

#1

Moms love their kids. Love cannot be measured by gifts, involvement in extracurriculars, or public displays of affection. Moms don’t all start from the same place.

#2

Poverty cannot be solved by work. It cannot be solved by throwing money at it. Because not everyone learns how to budget. Because families get stressed. Because children grow, and have needs. Because making ends meet can only do so much, and because emergencies happen. Poverty cannot ever be reduced to a single root problem.

So many of my peers–myself included–think that we can create the most efficient change by creating and changing legislation, or advocating for the underdog. I still think that the law is a powerful tool, and I’d love to explore that, but legislation is slow and it doesn’t focus about the individual.

Government services doesn’t imagine solutions to a single mother’s broken laptop for school: Mom2Mom does. Community members do. Volunteers reach out to their communities, look into their resources, and do the work themselves. Change doesn’t have to be large-scale and dramatic to be worthwhile. We don’t have to “fix” poverty. It is enough, and it is also so much more, to help make changes for the individual and the family.

#3

I am privileged. I get to take out student loans to attend one of the top universities in the world. I got to grow up competing in organized sport. I have had fancy, shiny electronics, I’ve accumulated books and expensive clothes and accessories. I am a woman and a visible minority, and I am privileged. My job earnings at Mom2Mom could have helped feed a family, and I thought about this every time it felt like I was wasting time.

When you plug in the numbers, it doesn’t make sense and the system sucks. But liberal arts majors know what accountants don’t: privilege, society, and humanity don’t work like an accounting spreadsheet.

I come out from this incredible summer job so much more grateful and simultaneously so much more critical of my degree. I recognize that it equips me with the skills to do great things, but I am also so much more than my degree. I love university, and I am excited to go back, but I am also so excited to finish; there is a world beyond May 2018 and I can’t wait to see what it looks like, but thanks to Mom2Mom, I am assured that that world is not so bleak as others might have me believe.

CWILA: my Arts Internship Program experience

Posted on by under Books, Career, UBC

Technically, my Arts Internship Program placement was supposed to end in August. It went so well that this ended up not happening, but I’ll get to that part of the story later. I wanted to reflect on my official Arts Internship Program experience, because I’m actually very grateful for it.

I applied for the Arts Internship Program in fall of 2015. (You have to apply first to the program and then into an actual internship placement.) I actually got waitlisted at first—I never found out why, but my theory at the time was that my interests were not exactly non-profit-related, so maybe the program didn’t really fit my goals. (Spoiler alert: I was wrong.)

After the program’s applying-to-internships workshop, I applied to five different internships, as recommended by the program coordinator. I kept the following things in mind: the causes I cared about, the time commitment (I was going to keep working part-time), and I also wanted to get an office position instead of a remote one, since I had done a remote internship the summer before.

Despite that last criteria, Canadian Women in the Literary Arts (CWILA) and their remote Communications Assistant position was my first choice. How perfect could it be? I, a self-described Canadian woman in the literary arts, in an office-y type communications position.

I also interviewed for West Coast LEAF, and although I still love their cause and remain interested in the organization, I didn’t get offered a position. (All for the better, I think.)

My interview with Judith Scholes, a CWILA board member, and Sheila Giffen, at the time the Executive Director and my would-be direct supervisor, went very well. Having had my fair share of interviews at this point, I now know that you sometimes just get feelings about certain employers, and I got that feeling with them. I was still a little green in the employment business at the time, so I was a little nervous, but I could sense that CWILA was the organization for me.

As a minority among minorities—a girl growing up in the Philippines who loved books—I understand what it means to be underrepresented in a field that you love. When I grew up dreaming about writing my own book, I thought about the fact that I had never seen a Filipino man (let alone a Filipina) publish a mainstream fiction work. Would it be weird, I thought, when I do that?

I told this to my future employers, and it’s one of the few parts of my interview that I remember. The other part is that I was curious about social media: I had checked out CWILA’s social media feeds, and was astounded I’d never heard of them before. I wanted to help CWILA spread their reach, and I wanted to keep them active online, where social justice thrives.

Although accounting for race still remains a difficult issue, CWILA allowed me to develop professional social media skills, and they did it with enthusiasm and encouragement. Sheila gave me the personal project of developing a social media policy while managing the organization’s social media feeds. I also had the opportunity to read and share the various interviews and essays that CWILA published, which, as a student of English literature, were incredibly exciting, especially when the interviews and essays were by people who I thought belonged only in textbooks.

Something that is frustrating about CWILA is that the many amazing people involved with it are so far spread out: from us here in Vancouver to my new direct supervisor and CWILA Chair in Halifax. Not only are we in different timezones, but we also have lives outside of the non-profit. Many of CWILA are academics, writers, editors, critics, etc. It is hard to stay on top of things, or get in touch, or stay on one page.

But this is also what I love about CWILA. When Erin Wunker asked me in July if I was preparing to move out of my position, I told her I would love to stay if they needed me. I’m so excited to be part of this organization while it is still growing. There is so much work left to do, and I am so excited to be part of it.

Jia Directs a Choir, year 3: “Fewer theories, more experience”

Posted on by under Career, Observations and Reflections

“School opened and Anne returned to her work, with fewer theories but considerably more experience.” (Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery)

Directing my local middle school choir has been the ultimate learning-teaching experience because–like every bright-eyed aspiring teacher–I wanted to revolutionize what I’d gone through myself as a student, believing that I could change the experience for the better. This gets sour pretty fast, especially when you have no formal training as a teacher. Teaching is a true vocation, which is why I always feel a little bit resentful of anyone who tells me they want to teach… just because there’s too many of them. I know this isn’t fair, but I’ve become so skeptical of anyone who can’t think of anything else other than teacher-doctor-lawyer and so fall back on those options because they cannot imagine another position.

Despite all of bitterness you just read, I returned to the middle school for another year directing the choir. After a summer of worrying about how it was going to fit in to my schedule with all the other things I committed to and feeling my interest in the gig fading (I told myself that this would be the last year I did it), I went to the first rehearsal with my teacher face on, only to discover that the teacher face stayed on.

In an hour, I remembered just what I love about teaching choir. I love sharing music, and I love being surrounded by kids who love to sing, despite how hard of a time I give them. This is such a fresh new time for these kids, and I can feel it. At my training for my job as an ice skating instructor, my supervisor reminded us that we could be the difference between a child loving skating, or hating it, and being in that position doesn’t frighten me as much as it probably should. In both skating and in choir, all I see is the opportunity to show a kid the world that I grew up in and I want them to feel as safe and loved and part of something as I did.

Skating and singing and music ended up being places of refuge for me. They did so well at serving as those places that I didn’t even realize that I ever needed refuge. Even though I was never particularly gifted at either of those things–I’ll never receive money or prizes for my abilities in music or skating–they defined my childhood and offered me so much.

That is what I want to bring to the table. Being on slippery ice is scary. Working with others is scary. Performing is scary. Being yourself and putting who you are on display is scary. But I want these kids to know that it is so much more than scary, and that I am there for them even when it is, because I know that there is a chance for them to fit in and figure things out and shine, if they let themselves.

Here’s to another wonderful year of non-bitter teaching. ♥

Speed-dating the Literary World: My Summer Internship

Posted on by under Books, Career

Close to the end of first year and the beginning of summer, I was faced with a career crisis. (It’s a bit early in my career for that, I know.) I was comfortable as a cashier at my local grocery store. Even if it was not the most invigorating job, I could take time off easily, I could discreetly use my phone, and it was a really easy job. I told my highly ambitious and driven friend this–that I was comfortable and didn’t really mind staying at the grocery store–and she looked at me with that look and asked me, “But do you really want to be a cashier for a few more years? Is that where you want to be?”

This prompted a new bookmarks folder (“Opportunities”) in Google Chrome with over twenty links to literary-related internships and jobs (as well as a handful of non-literary-related opportunities that paid more than minimum wage, just to keep my options open, of course).

I received a few rejections, but not enough to faze me. (I even got one “reapply in December, when we have an opening!”) I knew I was up against graduate students, many of whom already had work experience in the industry. I did, however, get through a gate with book scout, Simone Garzella.

Despite the aspiring novelist and avid publishing world researcher that I was in early high school, I had never known that book scouts even existed. For the record, they are to books what sports scouts are to sports: they find the good ones and sell ’em. Specifically, if you wanted to get your soon-to-be-published/up-and-coming bestseller published in foreign markets, I was among the first people you wanted to impress.

After a horrifying and embarrassing incident involving attaching the wrong file to a kind of “audition” for the internship, Simone Garzella took me under his literally virtual wing. By mid-May, I was a remote intern for SG Literary Scouting.

The job was never stressful to the point that I wished it were gone. I never felt so overwhelmed that I was unhappy. There will be no sugar coating in this blog post: being an intern with SG Literary Scouting was stressful and overwhelming.  I had to read 100 pages of manuscripts and then provide a synopsis and a cogent opinion about those first 100 pages within 24 hours. I also often got these manuscripts between 8 and 11am, sometimes every day of the week, sometimes twice a week: a schedule contrary to my plan-months-in-advance attitude.

However, these are not complaints. Aside from being a student, being an intern with SG Literary Scouting is probably my favorite job yet.

I learned so much, about both the publishing industry and myself.

I learned what it takes to be a “good book”. I learned that, to be published, writing cannot just be a craft, despite what I must have believed when I was a starry-eyed NaNoWriMo winner, dreaming of becoming the next Christopher Paolini, published before finishing high school. A good book is not always the same thing as a published book, a bestselling book. There are trends and readers to consider. Of course, Younger Me, you can write for the sake of writing, but you cannot just do that and make money, and there is no shame in knowing that.

I’ve learned that there is not a complete checklist of criteria that will get you through the publishing door. I read books with awful cliches but pulled at my heartstrings and made me laugh and cry. I met characters who made me seethe and made me want to punch walls but ultimately got my approval because of it. I read wildly postmodern books, making statements about art and sentences and writing that are no doubt important statements but did not get my recommendation because, despite its beauty, think-deeply-and-complexly-about is not what the market is looking for.

I learned that I cannot work just from home. With Facebook and Tumblr and Twitter and even my email just a few clicks away, I cannot work from my bedroom–at least not very productively.

I also just love working with people….

It is not a well-known fact, but reading and writing at their best are not solitary activities. Reading and writing are made even greater when they become reciprocal acts, acts of humanity and communication and community. When you write with the intention to be read, your book becomes a different animal. When you read books and discuss them, stories take on new lives. Great books are “great books” because they have been shared and thought deeply about. Great books give good reasons to bring people together.

I’ve learned that, above all else, I still love books. I love wondering about books, authorial intent, decisions made regarding syntax and structure, and what you might think about it. I love books, especially good ones that make me want to share them with the world.

My Date With Your Manuscript (How to Pace Your First 100 Pages)

Posted on by under Books, Career

One of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to the craft and then the business of writing is the person who says that they want to write a novel but don’t enjoy reading–or at the very least, cannot even bring themselves to do it for the sake of their craft.

… what.

I honestly don’t think that should be even allowed. If agents and publishers and editors accepted credentials in addition to having written a solid manuscript, being a well-read author should be among those credentials that they look for. Being an intern with SG Literary Scouting over the summer has taught me more about writing novels than strict technical study ever would, and a similar practice should be encouraged for any author.

As an intern, I read the first 100 pages of up-and-coming/soon-to-be-published/bestselling North American novels, review them, and then make a recommendation to the book scout regarding whether or not the manuscript should be considered for international rights sales. Basically, I am one of the few gates you need to pass on one of many possible roads to get your novel published in foreign markets. Having this kind of power has taught me so much more about the business of selling a novel by using your writing, your craft, your novel. As a writer, I’ve always known that the first 100 pages are crucial, but I’ve never understood the gravity of that advice until I’ve had to read other people’s first 100 pages six times a week and make an opinion about whether or not they are worth an investment.

But let’s get to the juicy stuff:

I’m on a date with your manuscript. Like on any date, I’m hopeful but anxious. I’ve seen many ugly manuscripts with poor manners, and despite all the disappointment, I can still hang on to the hope that your manuscript is The One.

  1. You have 10 pages to get me hot and sweaty.Observations: Do you walk in nervously? Or do you make it clear what your purpose is immediately? If you aren’t straightforward, then make me curious. Introduce yourself confidently, hugging me warmly at our first meeting, flatter me at once. Or introduce yourself slowly and shyly, give me a mysterious smile, and give an alluring but vague observation about how I look tonight.
  2. Because I’m on a date, and I’m a wishful thinker (i.e., I’m an intern, and I have to go through with this), I’ll give you until page 40. Max.By page 40, if there isn’t a purpose, what the hell am I even doing here? Why haven’t you set me up with conversation topics? Make me ask a question that I so desperately want you to answer.
  3. Somewhere between pages 50-80, I have to stop counting pages. Distract me. Woo me. Whisper sweet seductions. Make me want more.At some point, I need to be listening intently to your story. You need to have reeled me in. Made me glance at my phone and said, “Is it really that late?”
  4. If I can surmise the important details of your first 100 pages–our date–in two sentences, nothing important has really happened.When my girlfriend texts me after the date and asks how it went, “good” is not the response you want me to give her. If she asks what happened, and all I can say is, “We talked and ate for a bit”, nothing memorable/worthwhile/worth retelling happened.
  5. If I can’t describe an inciting incident, I’m probably not going home with you.

When querying and submitting manuscripts, I know it’s common practice to ask for the first 100 pages. But it is people like me who are reading those first 100 pages: people who have to read it. You need to be thinking about the endgame: readers, consumers, browsers in bookstores. If you don’t get them immediately, they won’t even be making it to page 100. So make every one of those pages count.

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