Dani Robbins

Archive for the ‘Lessons Learned’ Category

Options and Opportunities for White Social Justice Leaders

In Advocacy, Community Strategy, Leadership, Lessons Learned, Non Profit Boards, Organizational Development on February 24, 2021 at 1:30 pm

I’m writing this piece as the first step in a conversation that’s been long in coming. I’d like to talk about what the role is or should be of white social justice leaders right now.

There have been calls for white leaders to step aside and internal (possibly unspoken) consideration that maybe we should. Many of my peers, clients, students, and friends are trying to figure out if they’re in the right spot or if the spots to which they aspire are no longer appropriate for them to ascend. Each leader must answer that for themselves.

What is the right way to honor the values that we’ve spent our entire careers advancing?

I would like to offer some food for thought while you’re still in the leadership chair as you contemplate your next move.

We can change both the systems we impact AND the ways we lead. We can change the opinions and minds of other white leaders. We can change ourselves!

If you have spent your whole career, as many of us have, trying to advance social justice and working towards racial equity, continuing on or continuing to apply or aspire to apply for the role of a leader of a social justice agency is complicated.

We have a role to play in changing the landscape of leadership by including new and diverse voices in our quest to achieve social justice.

I’ve heard the questions: “Should we step aside to create space for a person of color to ascend into leadership?” “Should we not apply at all to make space for a leader of color?”

While this sounds and is dramatically ma/paternalistic, is it in service to a larger mission? It may or may not be. Individuals have to determine for themselves what their personal sacrifice might be.

While we’re thinking about these large existential questions, our Boards may not be. The million-dollar question right now is “if we do step aside, will the board just hire a different white leader that may know less about justice, equity, the mission and leadership than we do?” If history is any guide, they likely will.

We know, and there’s certainly enough evidence to support, that white leaders get more resources, get hired more often, get paid more, stay longer, and get more grace when they make a mistake.

If we don’t want to be a part of perpetuating inequity, and we don’t, then we must consider our role. A not insignificant number of white leaders have a lot of experience, significant education, a huge network, and have earned respect across communities.

There are too few good leaders of all races anyway, and we can’t afford to say goodbye to the still majority of them that are white.

Which brings me back to my initial question: What is the role of a white social justice leader right now?

I offer the following ideas for your consideration; they all won’t apply to you, but some of them might. Special thanks to Tasha Booker from City Year Columbus, Tiffany Galvin Green from John Carroll University and John Miller from Boys & Girls Club of America for helping me articulate my thoughts around this issue. You each and all bring light to my life, appreciation to my heart, and depth to my leadership.

These are a starting place as I see it. I encourage you to share other options.

Representation matters

Make sure that you are bringing people into your organization who don’t look like you or look like each other.

Representation is built in a variety of ways; it includes where we recruit, how we hire and who we promote. It’s the Boards we build and the policies and practices we recommend. It’s the values we live, and the cultures of inclusion we craft.

It also means we create processes and outcome measures that can be assessed. Most of us don’t like quotas and also don’t like tokenism; find a way to measure without marginalizing. You will need different metrics to measure awareness, education and transparency. 

To be clear, meeting measurements may not mean you’ve changed the culture. It’s one thing to bring in people of color. It’s another to create a culture that allows them to bring their full selves to work, to be their best selves and do their best work. Retention is a good metric with which to start. 

Representation also means not allowing all white leadership or all white boards. If that happens to be where you find yourself, commit to change. Question the process that got you there. Introduce the need for diversity, educate the group on why diverse groups make better decisions, and why homogeneous groups aren’t representative of the community you (likely) serve. Plant and cultivate the seeds for change.

Talk about and improve systems regarding diversity, equity and inclusion every chance you get.

Celebrate successes and call people in as necessary; commit to creating space for alternative opinions and alternative voices. Commit to not only inviting people to the table but making sure they are embraced and made to feel as if they belong. Also commit to being uncomfortable and to holding others accountable when they’re out of line.

The goal is awareness, understanding and appreciation. You may need to create cultural competency even as you’re changing the cultural make up and landscape. Agencies can’t diversify without changing the cultural cues and raising the competency to understand what different looks like.

Commit to improve the policies and practices at your organization to embrace people from all groups and eliminate the ones that alienate, or worse, discriminate. Critique all with an eye toward potential harm and then (work with the Board to) change what does not meet your new standards.

Differentiate between feeling intimidated and being intimidated

You may feel intimidated in the new more inclusive culture you’ve established, but that may have nothing to do with the actions of other people. Learn to discern the difference between feeling intimated and being intimidated.

Impact your sphere

Take a look at everything in your sphere of influence where you can affect change.

  • How is your organization investing their resources?
  • What are your hiring practices?
  • Where are you advertising your open positions?
    • If only white people apply, what do you do next?  (hint: shoulder shrugging is not the right answer; changing where you’re advertising might be.)
  • Who are you grooming for leadership?
  • Who is in your succession?

If you don’t like what you see, change it.

Send the elevator back down

We are all standing on other people’s shoulders. Make sure there are people who don’t look like you standing on yours. Create opportunities for leaders and potential leaders of color to grow and to learn, to safely make mistakes, and to step into their power.

Normalize and invite feedback

If someone calls you out, consider your role in whatever you’ve been accused of and commit to do better. None of us are going to get this right all the time. We have to be gracious enough to realize that and to welcome opportunities to learn.

Create mechanisms and space for feedback- in whatever form it’s offered.  Everyone comes to the table from the personal perspective of their own safety. It’s the leader’s job to create a culture of safety.

Some mechanism will have to be built; we can create the polices, practice and history that demonstrate our ability to hear, accept and integrate feedback and create trust.

Amplify leaders of color whenever possible.

We can amplify others’ voice. Compliment leaders publicly and provide opportunities for them privately. We can reinforce their statements, while giving them credit for making them. We can be an ally and an accomplice to their success. This is true of our colleagues in the community, our peers in the organization and also our team members.

For our teams, I’m going to dip back to the ma/paternalistic for a minute, and we have to, because white leaders are still the majority of leaders.

We can advocate for leadership projects and provide real ongoing feedback. We can position our up-and-coming or current leaders of colors to be in a place to receive public compliments. We can identify them privately with other (hopefully not all white) leaders, provide opportunities for them to take on projects to create a profile for them to publicly represent the organization.

We can find a way to put people of color in situations where they can shine which also advances the mission, and the work of justice.

Avoid performative statements and insist on action

A commitment to diversity is great but only if it moves the action forward. Commitment must be supported by action. It can’t just be on paper and then we all go along the way we always have. If you want change, you have to change.

Consider your place and your role

The questions where we began are tough, and so are you.

Yes, you should probably apply. The hiring decision isn’t yours to make. If you get the job, know that you have an obligation.

You have an obligation to develop every person on your team to become their very best, to be prepared for whatever role they aspire to next, to step into their power and away from feeling like they’re not worthy. You should push and support them in considering roles you see they’re capable of, even if they don’t.

If you are stepping down and you’ve developed your team, encourage them to apply and cheerlead for them to be hired. Consider also keeping an eye out for jobs outside of your organization. Social justice is advanced when we work together as a community to affect change.

Change management requires change in leaders as well.

It’s not enough to change the organization. We have to change ourselves.

It’s much easier to defend our values than to live up to them.

Let’s live up to them. If all we have are words and war, let’s talk. Let’s hold up, mentor and create opportunities for the leaders our communities need. Let’s be the change and let’s develop it in others as well.

This is the way we honor the values that we’ve spent our entire careers advancing.

A New Day Dawns

In Community Strategy, Leadership, Lessons Learned, Non Profit Boards, nonprofit executives on November 25, 2020 at 9:53 am

Four very long years ago I wrote the article Just Don’t after Trump was elected. Since then, those of us who work for and believe in justice have endured four very long years.

Four years of hate, pettiness and meanness.

Four years of seeing our stature in the world reduced, and our friendships with dictators and autocrats increased.

Four years of the dismantling of sacred institutions and the embracing of white supremacy and misogyny.

Four years of demeaning women, minimizing rape victims, and ignoring gender imbalance, other than to exploit it.

Four (more, more encouraged and also more often denied) years of racial and ethnic injustice. Four years of minimizing our fears and embracing those from whom our fears are born.

Four years of the abject denial that there’s a price being paid by the children of those that were brought here against their will and a debt owed.

Four year of turning our backs on immigrants and refugees, despite the fact that almost all of us are the children of immigrants and refugees.

Four years of embracing the idea that experience doesn’t matter, that science isn’t real, and that news is fake, even when you saw it unfolding yourself.

Four years that allowed a pandemic to rage in the final year with no federal response, no compassion and certainly no plan.

Four years of screaming into the wilderness and feeling as if we might lose our democracy, our hope, and maybe even our minds.

Today, a new day dawns.

We have joined together to elect a president who sees us, and a vice president who looks different than any vice president who has come before her. (I cried as I wrote that.)

Together, they are building a cabinet that looks like us, to represent us.

We now can turn our energies to supporting them. We won’t agree with everything they do, and that’s okay. We don’t always agree among ourselves. This is a pluralistic society and if we do our jobs right, it always will be.

We now have the opportunity to focus our energies to move forward the missions we serve, the values we believe and the justice we desire.

Thank you to my brothers and sisters across this country who have used their voice, their bodies and their money to stand up to bullies and to stand against hatred; to stand up for what we believe.

I salute you. I see you. I am grateful for you. Thank you.

Discretion and Discernment: A Call to Action on Behalf of Our Young People

In Advocacy, Community Strategy, Leadership, Lessons Learned, Organizational Development on February 24, 2019 at 12:07 pm

I’ve been thinking a lot about discernment and discretion in the past few weeks. I’ve been thinking about 9/11, Sandy Hook and Parkland and about the processes we put in place since then. I’ve been mulling what happens in the worst cases and the best cases of our policies being realized.

After Sandy Hook, schools across the country became lockdown facilities, even though Sandy Hook was a locked facility and it didn’t help. We had to do something! Hand wringing, prayers and fear weren’t getting us anywhere and many of us were devastated. Locking the doors was one roadblock we could erect.

After Parkland, many schools put in school resource officers even though Parkland had an officer outside who did nothing AND there’s ample evidence to suggest that the introduction of a school resource officer criminalizes behavior that otherwise would stay at the school level. It’s another roadblock, though I’m not convinced it’s the right roadblock.

We have reporting policies and after 9/11 have “see something say something” policies. We need those policies. We also need discretion and discernment in assessing the information that gets reported.

In an era when we have police officers being dispatched because there’s a random black person in someone’s neighborhood or a college student asleep in the common room of his own dorm, we have to have a conversation about discretion and discernment.

Sensitive content warning:

Many years ago, when I ran a program for school age youth in Texas, I had a young staff member who heard the youngest of three boys in a family use the word blowjob. She immediately decided that that meant that kid was being sexually abused at home and she called Children’s Services.

This is one of those (countless) incidences when where you sit determines where you stand. She was young, right out of college and new to the field. Would a more experienced staff member have read the situation the same way? Would you have?

What happened when Children’s Services showed up at that family’s door? Does a kid with two older brothers using the word blowjob automatically indicate sexual abuse? How could that family prove the absence of child sexual abuse? Children’s Services had to make that call. They have processes in place to help them to do so. It’s an impossible position.

The law requires staff that work with youth be mandatory reporters of suspected child abuse or neglect. We have to report and we should!

But there should also be some discretion on the part of the person who takes the call of asking follow-up questions before they deploy resources.

This is hard. I don’t harbor any illusions that this is not hard. How do you decide from a phone call what’s really a threat and what is not? How do you decide who is in danger or who just has older siblings or was allowed to watch a show that perhaps he shouldn’t have been?

After that incident we added an addendum to our reporting policy that employees should speak with a supervisor before they made such a call. That policy (and the law) was very clear that the final decision was still the employee’s and we would never stop an employee for making that call but we did want to have a conversation around discernment.

Every time we deploy police officers, children service workers or security staff, we disengage the people whom they’re questioning. We put those people in the position of defending themselves, sometimes rightly; sometimes not.

We know that once the door opens to the criminal justice system, it can be a one-way door – especially for families that are already living on the edge.

How do we not get to that door for people who don’t need to walk through it? How do we protect the kids we are entrusted to serve, and hold accountable the people who are trying to hurt them? How do we respect the dignity of visitors and not feed the racism or fear of those who want to decide who “belongs?”

How do we protect our young people – and everyone – by putting in place the right policies to keep us safe, while also protecting people’s dignity and right to be heard? How do we not create spaces where fear breeds and every stranger is a danger?

We have to figure out how to deploy our resources in the right places, for the right reasons and not further alienate those we are also entrusted to serve. We have to build policies to take into account and discern actual harm from rumor, speculation, racism, implicit and explicit bias.

I understand and support the need for locked schools. I believe in roadblocks. We can never 100% protect against a threat but we can put as many roadblocks in place as possible. I support policies that keep people safe.  But I’ve also seen too many incidences of leaders hiding behind a policy that made something worse in an uneducated attempt to respond.

We’re the grown ups and the leaders. We decide what’s safe for our community’s children and what’s not. We decide what’s a reasonable policy and what’s rife for abuse. We assess what will protect us and what will get in the way.  Let’s have the policies, but, please, let’s also have a conversation around discretion and discernment. 

What are your ideas to introduce discretion and discernment?  Have you been successful in your community? What’s your experience creating policies that protect and also discern?  As always, I welcome your insight, feedback and experience. Please share your ideas or suggestions for blog topics and consider hitting the follow button to enter your email. A rising tide raises all boats.

Why I Will Walk Out, a guest blog

In Advocacy, Leadership, Lessons Learned on March 14, 2018 at 3:31 pm

Multiple times today, March 13, 2018, I was asked what I thought walking out of school would do for America and why I thought that my actions would have enough of an impact to make a change. Some of those who asked me were ignorant and attempting to make fun of me, but some of the people were genuinely curious. I have to admit, their questions did make me think. Why am I walking out? What difference do I think I’ll make in the big picture? I’ve been thinking about these questions all day, trying to find the words for the impact that I hope to make, and I finally have a solid answer.

I am walking out tomorrow to stand with my peers in the hopes that someone will hear our cries. We’re scared. The power went out today and I couldn’t breathe because of all the conclusions that my head jumped to. Conclusions that were put into my head by Nikolas Cruz, and other school shooters. What if today had been my last day to live?

If our government will do nothing, my peers and I will. Someone needs to say “no, we are not okay with this”. We want control, and we want it now. We want safety, and we want it now. We want to be heard, and we will. Students in my high school, and students in countless other high schools will peacefully raise our voices in unison to ask for a change. If enough of us speak up, someone will hear our message loud and clear, and when they do, something will change, and if it doesn’t, then I guess we’ll just have to be louder. I guess we’ll just have to do more.

I am walking out tomorrow to show anyone who might be watching that I am not okay with the current way that unqualified buyers are able to purchase guns. The man in Florida was just 19 when he shot and killed 17 people with families. The FBI has admitted that he had been on their radar since at least last year. And he was still able to buy a gun? This feels like the punch line to a bad joke. 17 people die and what do people care about? They want to keep their AR 15s. You know, for protection purposes. If only the children and staff at  Stoneman Douglas had the luxury of protection. “I want my guns” people scream. “I want my dad back. I want my mom back. I want my son back. I want my daughter back. I want my husband back. I want my wife back. We want our lives back.” The victims sob. Is anyone listening to them? I am, and I want to help them in the scariest times of their lives.

I am walking out tomorrow to remember the lives that were lost. 17 lives were lost. That’s not a statistic. That is 17 individual families who just got destroyed. 17 families who need support while our president tells them that they should have done more. One of the lost ones, was a wrestling coach. He had four children and a wife. That’s four children who now have no father. That’s a wife with no husband, raising her children alone. Everyone on the wrestling team loved their coach. He was a father figure to each and every one of them, too. Each of those kids just lost a guide in the dark path of high school. How did he die? He died protecting the kids in his school. His name was Chris Hixon. He had a name. There was a football coach who died shielding his students from the shooter. His name was Aaron Feis. He had a name. Cara Loughran. Alex Schachter. Scott Beigel. Alaina Petty. Helena Ramsey. Carmen Schentrup. Luke Hoyer. Nicholas Dworet. Meadow Pollack. Jaime Guttenberg. Joaquin Oliver. Peter Wang. Martin Duque. Gina Montalto. Alyssa Alhadeff. They all had names, they all had families and they’re all dead. How many more people have to die before something changes?

So next time, when I am asked why I walk out, why I make a fuss, I will say, “I walk out because I am tired of being quiet. I walk out because I am not willing to go unheard. I walk out because I am ready to fight for what I believe in. I walk out to try and make a difference. Are you?”

 

This is a guest blog by Sydney Zulich, a local H.S student.

Lessons from the Nonprofit Sector on the Gun Debate

In Advocacy, Lessons Learned on February 25, 2018 at 1:29 pm

The domestic violence movement spent years educating the public that family violence was not a family affair and that we all had an obligation to keep people safe. We had to train the police and the prosecutors and advocate to change the laws and public opinion. We each had to speak up and speak out, individually and collectively. The domestic violence community insisted, and continues to insist, that victims be protected under the law.

Mothers against Drunk Driving spent years changing public opinion on drunk driving; teaching everyone that we all had an obligation to keep our roads safe. That we shouldn’t drive drunk or let our friends drive drunk.  They insisted that laws be improved to make our roads safer.

The rape crisis movement spent years changing public opinion, advocating for the media to not report victim’s names and to stop saying that the victim didn’t contribute to her/his assault, implying that all the other victims had.  They insisted that rapists to be brought to justice.  They changed the common assumptions about who has a right to put their hands on women’s bodies: the answer is those who the women allow to touch them. The #metoo movement brought it wider and challenged assumptions of power and who has the right to be heard, and when. Both groups continue to fight to make us safer.

Each is an illustration of how things change in this country and about what needs to happen for people to feel and be safe.

The NRA is a nonprofit.  In fact, it’s a nonprofit that routinely advocates against the wishes of its members, who do believe in limited gun control.  That is not a sustainable plan long term for any nonprofit.  I predict their leadership will transition within the next year, especially if public opinion continues to turn against them.

What does all this have to do about the current gun debate? The lesson is about roadblocks and also proximity.  We change public opinion one person at a time, one community at a time.

The Second Amendment is not the issue. You have a right to protect yourself; the vast majority of advocates are not denying that or trying to take that away. It is baked into our constitution and our consciousness. However, what is also baked into our constitution and our consciousness is pluralism, along with the understanding that you accessing your rights doesn’t get to impede me accessing mine.  With freedom comes obligation.

It’s not going to be a one size fits all approach. In the case of Parkland, Florida the police and the FBI collectively let us down, even as the community was screaming to be heard. In the Denver police shootings, a good guy with a gun, looked like a bad guy with a gun, which made it more difficult for the police to find the actual bad guy with a gun. In the case of the Vegas shooting, there was nothing on paper about the killer.  No trail to follow.  No clues to miss.  Nothing.

A good guy with a gun may not stop a bad guy. They haven’t yet, though there was an armed guard in Parkland and many presumably good guys with guns in Denver. Arming more people is not going to get us there. Making one kind of gun harder to get is not going to get us there.  Though I do agree that making semi-automatic weapons harder to get while we figure it out is a start.

It’s true that the cities with the most restrictive gun laws have the highest number of gun deaths.  It’s also true those are not the places where schools have been shot up. In those cities, kids get killed on their way to school, not at school. The wealthier suburbs are where kids have been getting killed in school.  We have an obligation to protect all of our kids, regardless of neighborhood!

Here’s the other thing we know: The states with the toughest guns laws do have lower proportionate gun deaths.  It’s a place to start.

We need it all: More laws. More enforcement of current laws. More response to reports of issues.  More roadblocks. More services for people in need.  More people intervening when a kid, or kids, need help.

The lesson from the nonprofit sector is about roadblocks. Look at domestic violence; it’s not enough to have laws.  It’s not enough to have shelters or jails; it’s not enough to train the community on what domestic violence looks like and how to intervene.  Sometimes though, it is enough to put up roadblocks in every sense so that it’s harder for a man who is trying to kill his wife to get to her.

That’s what we’re trying to do. We’re not trying to take anybody’s guns away, unless they shouldn’t have them. We’re trying to make it harder for the people who shouldn’t have guns to get them, so that the people who want to and should have guns, can.

It’s not any different than the new – and annoying but mostly only inconvenient –  laws on buying Sudafed, and having your name be put on a list just because you’re sick.  Or taking your shoes off at the airport.  Sure, it’s a hassle to wait 3 days to buy a gun.  Just like it’s a hassle to only get one pack of Sudafed after you show identification, and to stand barefoot on a disgusting floor on which thousands of people have walked and who knows when was last mopped, but it’s one way that we have agreed in this pluralistic society in which we live – and which we love-  that we can protect the whole from the few.

That’s the goal: protecting your right to defend yourself and all kids’ rights to be safe at school, and on their way to school.  We can do it, together.

Advice for Graduating Students Joining the Workforce

In Leadership, Lessons Learned, Organizational Development on May 2, 2017 at 8:13 am

Four not very long years ago, I wrote the post An Open Letter to College Bound Daughters, including My Own, for my step daughter and the thousands of girls like her heading to college. She, they, my current and former students, and many others are now graduating and beginning their journey forward into the workforce.  As such, I offer each of you my experience, wishes and hard won wisdom about applying, interviewing and selecting your next job.

  1. Apply to Anything that Seems Interesting

I read a Harvard Business Review article a few months ago that said men apply to jobs for which they’re 60% qualified, yet women only apply to job for which they’re 100% qualified. If it seems interesting, you meet most of the requirements, you think you could do it AND you want to do it, or at least learn more about it, apply.  You’ll rarely get an interview for a job to which you didn’t apply.

When I graduated, you had to have nice paper, matching envelopes and stamps  – it took work to apply for a job.  Now you just click a button.  It is, literally, free.  Do it!

One caveat:  if it lists a license requirement that you don’t have, don’t bother.  If they say they need a license, they probably do.

  1. Write a Cover Letter

Always write a cover letter. If possible, try to figure out the name of the manager to whom to send it.  If not, you can get away with To Whom It May Concern.  (Do not send it to Dear Sir.  I know they don’t teach that anymore, but in case we have any older graduates, I wanted to include it.) You can send it to Sir or Ma’am, but I wouldn’t.

In your cover letter, tell them to which job you’re applying and why. Summarize your qualifications. Tell them how you meet their requirements and can address their needs. In other words, tie your experience to the job posting.

Include your name and phone number. You never want someone to have to work to figure out what you want or find your contact info. Make it easy. Tell them. At the end, thank them for considering you.

  1. Have an Appropriate Voicemail Message and Email Address; Check your Social Media Names and Posts

Have a professional voicemail message, and a reasonable email address.  I realize that voicemail is passé for your generation and many of you don’t use it, but until you find a job, use it. No one is going to keep calling. They’re going to assume you’re not interested and move on. Record a professional voicemail message and then listen when you get a message. When you do, respond within 24 hours.

I had Youth Gone Wild by Skid Row on my answering machine (yes, not even voicemail, yet) when I got the message inviting me to interview for my first job out of college.  My article Names Withheld to Protect the Guilty is about that executive director; clearly, she wasn’t the best and I did turn out alright, but please, make a better first impression.

Also check your Instagram, Twitter and other social media names and feeds. If you don’t want to be judged by what’s out there, take it down.  As many celebrities and politicians have learned before you, taking it down does not erase it.  Your best bet is avoiding putting anything on social media you don’t want to have to explain to a potential boss, or your mother.

  1. Before the Interview

Do your research. Remind yourself of the job to which you applied. Learn all you can about the interviewer, the position and the agency. Find a way to work into the interview what you’ve learned.

  1. Be Present at the Interview

Put your phone on silent, or explain why it is not. Bring a notebook to take notes, another copy of your resume and a pen.

Ask questions. You have to have questions! If you don’t, the interviewer will assume you’re not interested. Those questions should be specific questions about the position and the expectations. Some examples:

  • What are your expectations of the first 90 days?
  • By what metrics will you be evaluating the position?
  • What are the goals for the agency?  How do the goals for this position roll up under those goals?
  • What’s your management style?
  • What’s the culture of the office?
  • What are the  organization’s values? Is there a story that demonstrates one value? (Fair game, they may ask you about your own values, too.)
  • After one year, what could have I have accomplished that would make you thrilled?
  • (If you’re in the nonprofit sector, it is fair game to ask) How is this position is funded, and for how long?
  • Ask any other relevant question you have.
  1. Things Not to Ask, Say or Do

Do not answer the question of why you want this job with an answer of why you need to live in the city the job is located or why you need a job in general.  The answer needs to be about why you want this job.

Do not ask about anything you should have been able to find, or about the programs in general.

Do not ask about vacation, salary or benefits. The time for those questions is at the second interview, or if it hasn’t been addressed, when you’re offered the job. Is that reasonable? Not especially. Is it factual? Yes.

Also, and I’m embarrassed to tell you this because it’s irrational – especially in the nonprofit field but likely in many other fields as well – you will be applying for jobs for which the salary is not listed. You, literally, will not know what the job pays until the second interview or unless the interviewer deigns to share that interview.  As I said above it’s considered poor form to ask about it until the second interview.  It’s stupid but again, it’s real.

Do not assume that just because you’re not sitting down across a desk the interview is not happening. While you are walking down the hall, if you get invited to lunch, if someone takes you on a tour….  no matter what is happening, the interview is ON! Every one of those people will be reporting back on their impressions of you. It’s not a one-way street, you too should be paying attention to them. Do they seem happy? Do they trash the boss when they’re out of sight?  Do they live the values they purport to hold? Do they seem disgruntled or disengaged? Do you want to work with these people?

  1. Remember the Goal

The point of a phone interview is to be invited to an in person interview. The point of that is to be invited for the final interview. The point of that is to be offered the job.

They want to like you!  Let them.

  1. Trust your Intuitions and Be Clear about Your Intentions

Never go against an uncertain conscience. If you have a bad feeling; a creepy vibe, if the interviewer looks you up and down when you first meet; if you feel something is unethical, inappropriate or just wrong, trust it.  You don’t have to be able to articulate it for it to be real. Pass.

Don’t continue to go on interviews if you’re not interested in the job. If you don’t want to move forward, remove your name from consideration. The first interview is fair game to learn more. Other interviews are less so.

  1. Listen to My Mother, and Likely Yours, too

My mother always said this about interviews: “Stand up straight. Firm hand shake. Look them in the eye.”

You’d be amazed how many people do none of the above.

  1. References

Do not use family for references. The first reference question is usually how do you know the applicant. The answer cannot be, “she’s my niece.” Aunts, mothers, fathers, etc., are not unbiased and your relationship with them is not professional.  When they say references, they mean professional references unless they specifically ask for personal references. If they do, go with a neighbor.

  1. Write a Thank You Note After the Interview

Whether you go with a hand written card or a typed letter is up to you but always write a thank you note, within 24 hours. You can get away with an email for a phone interview.  Say thank you. If you are interested in moving forward, tell them why.  Remind them of why you’re qualified. Thank them for their consideration.

  1. You are Worthy

It’s so easy when you go on job interviews to only think about if they like you. You have to like them, too. It is not a one-way street. They are not doing you a favor.  They are looking for the best person to fill the role they have and you are looking for the best place to land.  Your needs matter, too. Don’t ignore them.

  1. Consider if You Actually Want the Job, then Negotiate

I offer this whether you’re on your first, fifth or tenth job, especially when those jobs come to you: Once you’re done being flattered, you have to actually want to do the job.

If you do, when you receive the job offer, you can ask for a higher salary and possibly additional benefits than they’ve offered.  Do so in a friendly and respectful manner. You can also ask for a day or two to think about it. If you do, confirm when you’ll be back in touch with your answer.

Men often negotiate and women often don’t. This compounds over time. Other than executive jobs, you can’t usually negotiate for additional benefits, though sometimes you can.  You can usually negotiate for additional money. Do.

  1. No Decision is your last Decision

If you take a job and you hate it, find a new job. Life’s too short. If you can stick it out for a year or two, do. If you can’t, get out. Find a new job first if possible.  If isn’t a good fit, learn the lessons and move on. No decision is your last decision.

  1. Be Excited and Afraid

That’s how you should feel about a new job. When I started teaching at OSU, I was so excited I couldn’t sleep through the night-  for months!  If you are not excited and afraid, be worried. The other side applies too – if you’re exhausted just hearing about the job, that’s important information too. Jobs that make you tired before you’ve even been offered them should be avoided.

In summary, go get the job you want! Trust your instincts. Listen to your feelings. Be excited! Be great! Change the World!

What advice would you offer to new graduates? Do you have any interviewing stories to share? As always, I welcome your insight, feedback and experience. Please offer your ideas or suggestions for posts and consider hitting the follow button to enter your email. A rising tide raises all boats.

%d bloggers like this: