Competition

I’ve remarked many times before that there isn’t enough money in the world for someone to pay me to go back to high school. Not that I’m embracing the grey hairs or the mom pants, pluck you very much. But high school was such a turbulent time. Who needs the headaches, the tears, the heartaches? Truthfully, my fondest memories of high school include a trio of girls I still hold dear today (time has a way of minimizing the few times we fought), the bar that pretended to believe I was 18-yr old Tia Brown, the white sand and surf, and lest I forget – the dubious quality of consuming Coke in the red can and Little Debbie fudge rounds without it ever showing anywhere. Ha! Maturity sure can be a cold witch, can’t it?

In some ways, the same disdain and frank aversion can be said for some of the early times in my career. Why did I ever think that Debbie whats-her-name would help me advance, simply because human resources fell somewhere under her vast sphere of influence? It was her job, and I was naïve enough to believe she’d do her job. And really, wasn’t the dubious title of Marketing Coordinator a euphemism for “Girl Who Fulfills Requests for Literature and Holds Key to the Tradeshow Giveaways?” Yeah, it definitely was (but at least I could still drink the nectar from the red can. The ancient 30-yr-olds I worked with were followers of Jenny Craig.).

Young people entering the work force today simply have higher expectations. Is that good? Maybe. I truly think new job seekers today are doing a lot more homework than I did all those years ago. But the new graduate who politely declined my employment offer a few months ago, well that’s another story. Yes, he held a shiny new MA in interaction design. But he’d never actually had a job in his life. He had a nicely prepared thesis, but bore no scars of turf wars, politics, irrational client demands, bookended meetings, overbudget photoshoots, physical ailment from bad clam chowder and a obese, malodorous seat mate on a redeye from LA (by the grace of all things holy, don’t ask!), misplaced coworker ire, or compromised family time. And frankly, I think those things count for a lot. Live and learn.

Which brings me back to my last post. Confronting and sharing (am I courageous, or just a stupid masochist?) my workplace vulnerabilities as a means to exorcising my demons and cathartic release preparing me for healing and earning a higher reward in workplace heaven. I’m a little afraid that someone else – I have someone in mind – might just outfox me. This person is poised, intelligent, friendly, attractive, self-deprecating while maintaining an air of confidence, a team player, resourceful, and otherwise one of those perfect people I’d love to hate (for most, I require much less provocation, truth be told. Don’t ever be in front of me and drive slow, and for God sakes, don’t stop at a yield sign.). Sigh, but I can’t. I tried, really, but I can’t.

This in and of itself might surprise some readers because hey, aren’t women naturally contemptuous of other successful people? Isn’t that when we sharpen the claws and get nasty? Frankly, I think this is a beautiful (figuratively speaking) person well suited for their position. And I’m overjoyed to find that rather than finding a million reasons not to like him/her, I’m taught at least one reason every day why I should, and do. And that gives me hope – for my character, my personal growth, and sense of self. Maybe I’ll even learn an ethereal Point or two (to help mitigate the Tia Brown subterfuge. Yes, it was a really long time ago, but “Tia” was ahem, a regular.).

After all, excelling and achieving aren’t necessarily individual games. They should be team sports, with medals all around for those determined and sharp-witted.

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