Skip to content

Don’t Call It A Family

godfather

I should have known better.

I should have known better than to think the worst was over. That the anecdotal hires and increased headhunter activity signaled a respite from the putrid pall of pink slips littering our lives these last two years.

But no. Not yet. Not even close.

I should have remembered the June 30th closing bell. You can set your alarm to the quarterly bloodshed.

I’ve been able to distance myself emotionally from this absolute, indisputable fact. That is, until yesterday, when I stumbled on yet another post-dismissal Bukowski’s drink fest and saw, I dunno, a dozen amazing talents drowning themselves in their bottomless mugs of layoff lager. Some of them my friends. All of them too talented to be there.

I’m like the victim – not the criminal – who returns again and again to the scene of the crime. Or, as fellow animal Michelle tweeted to me yesterday, “You remind me of an Italian grandma who goes to funerals for social activity.”

Bukowski’s is where Boston’s ad scene goes to die. The otherwise amazing pub has been popularized by this brutal fucking business. This thankless, sure-we’ll-take-your-life-then-crap-on-it-when-we’re-done-with-you career we’ve chosen.

I’ve tried to stay positive. I’ve tried to give our collective creativity the benefit of the doubt. That somehow our industry would find a better way. But no. We are still nothing more than the fecal byproduct of advertising’s ineptitude.

And, you know what, I’m fine with that. We are line items. Gears in a cog. Makers of widgets. Stricken from the budget as easily as new copy machines and Aeron desk chairs.

But spare the “we are family” bullshit. Enough with the rah rah emails and company retreats. Stop telling us that the talented humans of Agency X are what separates Agency X from other Agency Xs. Because families don’t lop off the newest or most expensive offspring when the belt needs tightening.

Imagine that dinner conversation. “I’ve called this Proulx family meeting with some unfortunate news. As you know, we’ve just lost our main source of revenue – my job – so we had to make some tough decisions. Ben, as the eldest child you can stay but with 33% fewer meals. Clara, I’m sorry to say, your position as a child in this household has been deemed redundant. Since you were the last in, we thought it fair that Ben keep his position as Proulx spawn. However, because you have been here for 3 years, you qualify for a severance package, which includes placement assistance into a foster family. Feel free to use me as a reference. Really, I mean that. And thank you for all your cuteness and unconditional love. Best of luck.”

We are not family. Commitment is not reciprocated. It says as much right in the offer letter. “Employment at Agency X is at will and can be terminated at any time….” Shame on us for thinking that’s just boiler plate language. Shame on us for forgetting that everyone, EVERYONE, is out for #1.

We hang onto the culture myth. We believe you when you spout family values. We want to drink your Kool Aid. We want to join your movement. We want to be part of the something special that the 1/10th of 1% of advertising agencies temporarily achieve. We’re human. And humans need connectedness to something larger, spiritual even.

Shame on us for believing we could get all that from our jobs. And shame on you for making us believe you wanted the same thing.

From Television To Fire Departments – By Michelle L. Norton

I could always tell when another bloodletting was about to occur – Human Resources would be in the office past 5PM on a Friday (they always had layoffs first thing Monday morning), scurrying around with pursed lips, going in and out of offices with closed doors, carrying stacks of folders.

It was like a giant storm cloud had taken up residence over our building. People turned on each other, the gossip was out of control … it had gone from a fantastic place to work to, what I called, The Death Star.

Eventually, my day came. I had a feeling the week before it happened. I just sensed it. So I began bringing things from my desk home and copying all my personal files to discs.

After the initial shock of the actual words, “your position has been deemed redundant” I thought – “Well, it’s almost summertime. I’ve got my severance and unemployment to live on. I’ll look for work, casually – maybe take on some freelance projects – and I am sure that by fall I’ll have everything under control and be working at a new job.”

How wrong wrong wrong I was. I never could have anticipated what, in reality, I was in for.

I found one very short-term freelance job that summer. As the weeks passed, I became more and more frantic. I couldn’t sleep, so I’d get up at 5AM, sit at my computer and scour all the job postings. I would guess I sent out, easy, 25 to 30 resumes a week. It was very rare to get a response, though. It was as if I had jettisoned my resumes off into some giant black hole …it was infuriating. And disheartening. And frightening. I couldn’t even get work through temp staffing agencies because I didn’t have enough (or recent enough) administrative experience.

What became immediately apparent to me was that all the available copywriting jobs were in the interactive environment … and I had no experience in that arena. Print, radio and on-air — you bet. And sure, I had dashed off some quick banner copy for the in-house new media department (as it was called then … quaint, huh?). But I had never gotten any samples or screen grabs. It never occurred to me.

Sometimes I’d see a really great posting for a position I wanted, but it would turn out they wanted someone much more junior (read: cheaper). I got a few long-term freelance jobs and would just about beg to be considered for full-time. But the response was always the same — “You’d get bored and as soon as a better-paying job surfaced someplace else, you’d be gone.”

So, now it is 6 years later and, gradually, I have freelanced all over New York City – there have been dry spells that scared the life out of me. For a good percentage of time, I had to live off credit cards and I am now in astronomical debt. But, I finally got my foot in the interactive door. And learned that writing for the web really isn’t much different than writing for print. I find it easier, actually.

The most important thing I learned, though, is to look for work in industries you might not have considered before. When I first started job hunting, I focused only on the television network industry. But there are only so many senior level writing jobs in those venues, and the people who have those jobs aren’t budging. They just don’t open up. I kept knocking on agency doors … it took a while and it felt like a huge waste of time on some days, but I got some work from them … valuable work, too. Work that grew my creative repertoire in the right direction. You simply cannot be a one-trick pony anymore. Employers are looking for creatives that can do it all … cover all the message delivery options. Interactive being the big one.

I have also scored some great jobs simply by talking. I volunteer with an animal rescue agency, and I meet a lot of people. It always comes up in conversation, at some point, that I’m job hunting. People are surprisingly willing to help in any way they can — if they have connections they are delighted to help set things up. A few weeks ago a woman adopted a kitten I’d been fostering. I delivered the kitty to her home and, as we were talking, she told me there was an opening for a position where she works — the Fire Department of New York City headquarters. At this point, with the economy the worst it’s been since my layoff, I am open to anything … I am in total survival mode.

She helped arrange the interview, I went and, in the course of speaking with the people I’d be working with, they responded with great enthusiasm for my writing background. They told me that they send out a lot of communication to the firefighters who were part of the World Trade Center excavation — offering physical and mental health programs — and that they really need someone to write all these elements (mailers, email blasts, newsletters, maintaining the website copy, and so on). They completely rewrote the job description to include copywriting and my application is in the process of going through their personnel department.

What’s nice is that, after 6 years of frantically running around, trying to keep afloat, cranking out banner ads for air fresheners and direct mail hawking phone / cable / internet service packages, I am now going to be working on something that has real value. Something that will impact the brave men and women who were the first to selflessly arrive on 9/11, placing themselves in immense danger. I never — not in a million years — would have envisioned myself in a civil service job, but I am glad it’s happening. After having sold my soul to the advertising monster, this is a truly rewarding reprieve. And I am SO relieved that I’ll get a break from pounding the pavement, hustling for freelance work. The job doesn’t pay as well as others I’ve had, but I am looking at this as an adventure … an adventure that’s going to add to my range of experience and open up a whole bunch of new doors. And that, in itself, is priceless.

What To Do When Interviews Go Nowhere – By Josh Copeland

I’ve gone through the interview process several times now since losing my job five months ago. Many gave every indication that I would be the next person on their payroll. Then for one reason or another, the process came to a halt.

Now, I know that sometimes a person just isn’t right for a certain position, and that sometimes personalities don’t match. But these were situations that I had never experienced before. I’ve defined them as the following:

  • The Houdini Job: A position which vanishes into the ether sometime during the interview process. What was an open rec just disappears. Poof.
  • The Flounder Job: A position that was advertised at one level, but then moves up or down the seniority chain to another level.
  • The Blackjack Job: A speculative position that may become real if certain things happen, i.e. a new client or lifted hiring freeze.

This is reality, and usually there’s nothing the candidate can do. Or is there? Here are a few proactive tactics both the job seeker and hiring company can take after both parties end up empty-handed.  Hopefully it spurs some healthy debate and people comment with options I didn’t consider.

If you’re a candidate recently informed of the lack of a position (because of one of the above phenomena):

  • Be gracious: after the initial white-hot rage, take a moment to process. Give the company the benefit of the doubt that they did the best they could to get you hired.
  • Kindly, gently ask for a referral: if you went far enough in the process that a company wanted to hire you but couldn’t, it could mean they still want you in their network. They should be receptive to referring you to others that may be seeking candidates for unpublished jobs.
  • Discuss specific plans for future consideration: if the company is suddenly not hiring but has said they are interested, discuss plans with them to check back in on specific regular intervals (monthly should be fine) and follow-up! This one’s on you.

If you’re a hiring company that is genuinely interested in a candidate but, for reasons beyond your control, cannot pull the trigger on an offer letter, please consider the following:

  • Communicate: Job searchers understand that 95% of the responsibility in the interview process is on their shoulders. Be considerate enough (as one recent company did for me) to have a specific time-path-to-hire in mind. Communicate in that time period, answer questions that come via email and generally keep candidates in-the-know. It’s easy to forget that these are living, breathing humans on the other end of this process whose livelihoods depend on your telephone call.
  • Please do your homework: Each candidate has (or should have) done their research about you and your company. Consider doing the same to make sure the position is approved to be hired for, and that the role is set. It’s also delightful (and obvious) when hiring managers have done just a little more than review a candidate’s resume. The interview process is more efficient and the conversation quickly turns to how candidates’ experiences are valuable to the position.  And in this socially-networked world it’s easier than ever to investigate.
  • Honesty trumps all: If a position you were recruiting for should suddenly get eliminated or if a hiring freeze suddenly takes effect, please explain it to the candidate(s) you were considering, even if it’s the ugly truth. People respect honesty a lot more than an easy answer. And the ugly truth usually makes sense.

Hiring managers aren’t required to help a person in the job-search process. But if the candidate was a good one and you just couldn’t make it work, these little tips go a long way to build future supporters — even if they don’t end up there. Plus, if you became known as the company that cares about it’s candidates (both hired and potential) enough to help them in their search outside of your own walls, well, that’s the kind of thing that always, always comes back to you in one way or another.

____

Josh Copeland is a Chicago-based account service veteran pursuing emerging media marketing. Connect with him on twitter.com/jbc95a.

The Luck Of The Animals

(click on cookie to get your fortune)


Create your custom cookie at bigoo.ws

Of the 9 people who have written guest posts for Please Feed The Animals (not including my wife, Kathryn or my partner, Greg Thomas), 6 of them now have full-time jobs or are actively freelancing. My calculator tells me that’s .6666666667. A pretty sweet batting average by anyone’s standards.

Obviously, this speaks to the incredible power of Please Feed The Animals. I take total responsibility for their huge success.

Or, it could just be that those who write guest posts are the kind of people who think critically about their careers, take extra initiative, and separate themselves from the masses who still think jobs are best searched by blindly sending out resumes and portfolios.

I’m going with the former.

On Risk – By Kathryn Proulx

Posters

Jump and a net will appear.  I am not sure who coined the phrase, I know it is the title of at least one book.  Anyway, it is one of Erik’s favorites.  He and I couldn’t be more different in this respect.  My motto, “slow and steady wins the race.”  If we are talking Aesop’s Fables, I am so tortoise.

They say opposites attract. I think in our views on risk, that’s correct.  If I had my way, I would live as a Shaker, spin my own yarn and rotate my crops diligently. Erik would rather not use maps, plan ahead or use a schedule.  Opposites.

But now there is no escaping risk.  Not having a job is a risk.  Taking the wrong job is a risk.  Even having a job is a risk.   So now, what the #$)* do we do?  What any rational two people with a mortgage would do…take a really huge risk.  We jump into a new business idea.

As I fret about this jump with Erik, I reach for the slow-and-steady person’s favorite book of comfort, the dictionary.  Risk, as defined by Merriam Webster:   exposure to possible loss or injury: Danger, Peril.  OK, so that did not comfort me.  So I called a very good friend.   As usual, she gave me sound advice, “If you and Erik don’t try this now, you will wonder about it the rest of your lives.”   That made me feel better.

But what is risk?  If I take the definition literally, then there is no upside.  We are walking into a Fellowship of the Ring style gauntlet of pain.  Then there is the quote, “with great risk comes great reward.”  That’s more Return of the King, almost everyone gets out alive and evil is thwarted.

I guess then, everything is a risk.  If we waited until everything was perfect and in place, we would never do anything.  There’s really never is a good time to do whatever it is we are contemplating.  We just have to do it.

So I am jumping,  and when I open my eyes, I bet there will be a net.

Production Diary: David Cohen

Picture 5

Screen shot of a video interview with David Cohen, shot by Mark Harmel

Second in a series of short profiles of people who are starring in the PFTA documentary.

There I was, minding my routine.  A cup of coffee, iTunes, email.  What I read next shifted the course of my day — and, this film.

To: Erik Proulx

From: David Cohen

Subject: I got laid off and changed my gender.

I got laid off from my job as Copy Director in May 2008. (In the previous six months, I lost my father to brain cancer and left my wife of eight years). In July, I had an epiphany that led me (at age 49) to realize I am transgendered.  I started a LiveJournal blog under the moniker “IdentityTBD” to document my coming-out and transition processes. Now I am writing and performing–poetry/fiction readings and standup comedy, and I am soon to be announced as the  managing editor of genderfork.com.

Production Diary: Kurtis Glade

kurtis1

Screen shot of video interview with Kurtis Glade, shot by Mark Harmel

First in a series of short profiles of people starring in the PFTA documentary:

Kurtis Glade lost his job as a creative director. Now he is making a documentary about surf camps that help kids with Cystic Fibrosis, including his daughter:

I can’t invent a drug to cure Cystic Fibrosis. But I can make a movie. So for now, I’m making a movie. In the end this is a way to focus my energy on something with some sort of larger worth.

Please, Innovate Now: WINNING AT RECESSIONS

Picture 3

The following is a guest post by Winning At Business, a satirical blog that actually interviewed Seth Godin

I’d like to ask you all a favor. And when I say y’all, I mean everyone in the United States, no Hawaii, no Alaska. It’s time for some continental solidarity. Alaska and Hawaii are quite honestly and without knowledge of their history whatsoever, separatist assholes in my book.

So here is my plea. Please. Invent something cool, so we can all quit freaking out at how horrible things are.

It’s incredibly easy to focus on the negatives all around us. Billions of jobs are being cut every second of the day. Illegal immigrants are sneaking into our country through Alaska from Russia and stealing what jobs are left. And do I even have to mention that Jon and Kate are heading for splitsville?

But it’s for these very reasons that we’re ready for some amazing — even mildly amazing — things to happen.

And here’s the key, it doesn’t even have to be that good. Take for example, the RunPuncher 5000. This invention is mediocre at best. But because I have launched it recently, I have gotten 6 million pre-orders, and it doesn’t even ship for another four years.  I’ve only got one working model of this thing, and no idea how to get it manufactured. Yet I am literally flush with cash.

Clearly, the entire nation wants to glom onto any mildly positive invention these days because our minds are grasping for anything that’s not bad. We NEED that glimmer of hope.

What do they say? Necessity is the mother of invention?

As a matter of fact, they do. And I’m sure we’ve got it in us. What do the telephone, the light bulb, the Allstate, PFTA and the RunPuncher5000 all have in common? ALL OF THEM were invented during recessions, and all in the continental US.

And where would we be without each and everyone of those? I don’t care to imagine such a world.

I’m begging you. Don’t just hunker down and quit doing anything that costs money. It’s the time to innovate like a rabid raging bull, but not a normal dumb bull, one with a much better brain than most bulls have. Like, if a bull had RoboCop’s brain.

We can’t wait to see what you come up with.

Production Diary

20090620_cf_9903

Over the course of the next few weeks, I’ll be posting a few photos and notes from the production of the yet-to-be-named PFTA documentary over on the PFTA Facebook page. Meanwhile, if anyone would like to be a guest blogger, send me an abstract of what you’re thinking and we can work together to get it up.

Please Feed The Animals On Facebook

facebook-logo

I like to think PFTA is about more than a blog or jobs. It’s also about communicating with each other, sharing leads and learning from each other’s experiences. The new Facebook member page is a venue for animals to connect with other animals. Upload stories (success or otherwise), join conversations and give us your feedback. Because we’re stronger together.