I was talking with my cousin yesterday, and he mentioned how my generation is going to have a very different view of work and employment. And while I’m not the strongest advocate of generation gaps, he does have a point. After all, my experiences in the working world are a good example of that. So now, I present to you the first of several installments detailing my successes and failures and stereotypical misadventures as a member of Generation Y. Or as a Millennial. Or whatever we’re supposed to be called this week.
I hadn’t bothered to apply for any jobs until about three weeks before I graduated from college. The HR representatives and hiring managers at the career fairs I’d been attending for the better part of the past five months had instilled me with the belief that doing so any earlier would yield negative results. After all, advertising is a capricious field in which hiring practices are based on obtaining and retaining clients.
So as I was putting the finishing touches on my financial aid closeout forms and pulling all-nighters for my remaining classes, I desperately clung to the belief that one of these magical applications would get me a job that I would start the week after graduation.
That didn’t happen.
So as I finished up school in Tulsa, Oklahoma, I packed up my belongings and moved back home to Phoenix to stay with my parents as I planned out my next move.
For two weeks, I sent out applications to advertising agencies on both coasts and everywhere in between, hoping that one of them would fall in love with my portfolio and resume and scoop me right up. At best, I would receive a generic response that my application was received and I would be contacted if there was any interest. My prospects were looking dim.
But then, an old college friend called me up with a proposal: move to Washington, DC and start a record label. And as an unemployed new graduate with no job prospects, the offer seemed quite appealing…
