You lack business acumen, or, How I overcame disappointment and made summer awesome.

A good friend of mine asked me for a post on how to overcome disappointment. Coincidentally, this was more or less going to be my end of summer post anyway. Here is my best attempt at it.

I don’t often set New Year’s resolutions. But because I was getting older, and because I recognize I’m not nearly as awesome as I’d like to be, this year was different. One of the most important of these resolutions was to find meaningful work experience in the summer.

I was supposed to work at this amazing consulting firm. I had done everything right, to the extent that I had told many people that I was a shoe-in for the position. The universe, and HR, had other ideas, and I was told that this position that I had anticipated getting for over three months, was simply not going to be got.

This wasn’t a case where I wasn’t good enough. I was as good as I could’ve been. Someone else just happened to be better. Even though losing sucks, if I’m going to lose, this is the preferable way for it to happen.

Phase One of overcoming disappointment: examine why whatever happened, happened. Was I really on my A-game? Absolutely. I met the one of the firm’s partners at a conference and followed-up with him that night. I met him at his office at 8 a.m. during reading week (Canadian spring break) in Toronto. I booked the room on campus in which two of the company’s consultants interviewed me. I nailed the interview. I completed the test case 90-minute test case while sick. I nailed the test. I came in for my final interview in May, on my birthday.

So, did I really do as well as I think I did? Okay, well, maybe I did as well as I was taught. This sounds like a cop-out, but it’s a roundabout way of accepting responsibility. I didn’t get the position because I lacked “business acumen”. This translated into failing to show enough of an interest in consulting. Even though my resume was solid, it wasn’t tailored enough to the position. And what happened to sending those post-interview thank you notes? Hm.

Phase Two comes in appreciating all the new opportunities I would now have the chance to pursue. Learning to cook was something I’ve wanted to do for ages. I would now have the time to do it. I made cronuts. Learning to drive was something I should’ve been doing for ages. I finally did it. I can make a left turn that would blow your mind. And of course, I started a blog.

Phase Three comes in getting back on the horse. Disappointment is meant to be a temporary feeling; how we deal with it and other emotions defines a large part of who we are. As it happened, another opportunity came along, this time to intern for the $23 million corporation and government of Western University, the largest university student council in North America. It was a well-paying position that would extend into the school year. My resume was tailored, and those post-interview thank you notes were sent out three hours after the interview.

I got the job. And another doing PR for Bunch, an up-and-coming social network. And another doing business development and TV production for Raeallan, a motivational speaking company.

My summer of internships is a great title for another post. This one is about living a summer that didn’t match my expectations, but more than met my standards for growth and learning.

New Year’s resolution: accomplished.

                                                                                                                               

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has been following these ramblings. If you’ve gained anything at all from them, I am incredibly happy. I will do my best to keep up the good, improve the bad, and keep telling stories. C-Suite Dreams!

Editor’s note: If you have a topic idea, I’d love to hear from you! Suggestions can be made in the comments section or on Twitter @JeremyDeMello.

They think I’m stupid, or, The lessons we learn from strangers.

“Do you like high school?”

“Not really,” my new friend replied.

My new friend was a 15-year old named Dylan. I met him on the train to London. Dylan looked much older than he was. He was a passionate heavy metal guitarist, but he could appreciate everything from classical music to jazz. He told me how metal was often stereotyped, and that there were several jazz-metal fusions I might be interested in. We got to talking about philosophy, something he was new to but knew he loved. He was, as far as I could tell, an uncommonly intelligent, or at least an uncommonly aware, young man.

Continuing on about high school, Dylan said, “It’s pretty hierarchical. There are the smart kids, the popular kids, everyone else, and then me. They think I’m stupid.”

‘They’ thought he was stupid because he had, in addition to ADD and OCD, a bad case of turrets syndrome. If you’re like me, you’ve probably heard of turrets through the media. It’s sometimes portrayed in Hollywood as an illness that causes people to loudly and randomly blurt out curse words. I’m sure this isn’t always the case, but for Dylan, it was.

“They think I’m stupid.”

Think about that statement, and about the assumptions we make about people. We take what we can from a person’s appearance, gender, age, race, or clothing, make a quick judgement about if they’re a threat or not (yay evolution) and move on. We have our own problems to deal with, and as long as these strangers are not one of them, then our business, or lack thereof, is concluded.

The problem with these assumptions is that they are, at best, a caricature of the real person. When Dylan first sat down, he told me as a courtesy that he had turrets. I feel ashamed at some of the things my mind leapt to when told me. It’s human to think these things, but that doesn’t make thinking them right.

My assumptions almost cost me this new friend, as the assumptions of Dylan’s classmates deprive them of the same kid I got to know. A talented musician, someone who thinks deeply and speaks honestly, someone who genuinely seemed like a good guy. Someone who is the exact opposite of stupid.

The tidal wave of opportunities to make new friends that I’ve lost along the way hasn’t hit me yet. I don’t think it ever will, because it wasn’t that I openly rejected these new connections so much as I simply wasn’t even aware of them.

Dylan reminded me of an amazing lesson that is exceedingly difficult to learn: to live consciously. This means being aware of our surroundings, and doing what we can to empathize and understand the situations of people around us. If we see a person who is homeless, we need to remember that they would almost certainly do anything not to be. If we see a person who snaps at someone else, we need to remember that that person might be having an awful day and that they deserve some slack. And if we see a person with turrets, we need to remember that they are people before they are someone with turrets. Everyone I’ve listed is a person, just like us, all deserving of dignity and respect, and, if you care to give it and they care to accept, friendship.

Sure, meeting strangers can be weird. So is combining heavy metal and jazz. But regardless of whether you keep in contact or like the music, almost certainly one thing is true: you’re better off having had the experience.

Editor’s note: If you have a topic idea, I’d love to hear from you! Suggestions can be made in the comments section or on Twitter @JeremyDeMello. Stories about me on systems of transportation will probably stop coming soon, so your ideas would be lovely.

Wth are Dunk-A-Roos? or, Why, seriously, the kids are alright.

I was riding the bus the other day and two kids who looked about 16 were sitting behind me.

One of them was talking about his favourite rapper’s Instagram, and how the artist had gone out of his way to outrageously thank a fan who had sent him Dunk-A-Roos.

Then his friend asked, “What the hell are Dunk-A-Roos?”

And so one kid struggled for a good 5 minutes to explain Dunk-A-Roos to the other one. While very entertaining, this got me thinking about the next generation. Not technically the next generation, but the state of kids younger than me, and how they could live upstanding, productive lives without knowing, let alone tasting, one of the greatest snack treats ever invented*.

*disclaimer: I have not been bought off by Betty Crocker, and I’m pretty sure they’ve stopped making Dunk-A-Roos.

The point is that everyone is worried about Generation-Y (properly defined as anyone born between the early 1980s to the early 2000s, though stereotypically 20-something). What nobody seems to realize is that Gen-Y is worried about itself, or at least its younger members.

The 30 year olds call out the 20 somethings for laziness, the 20 somethings call out the teenagers for ignorance, and the teenagers…well, I honestly don’t remember what we said about younger kids. Probably something to the effect of “No matter what TV show you were raised on, Arthur was better.”

True, times for our generation are tough. We have the highest tuition and the most debt, we are likely to die sooner and are buying houses later. It’s the hardest it’s ever been.

It’s always been the hardest it’s ever been, for every successive generation, perhaps with the exception of the group that followed the Great Depression.

Technology has made life noisy. We’ll find the quiet. The media has made life scary. We’ll find the courage. Climate change/the economy/the next pandemic have made life insecure, and, some would argue, meaningless. We'll find our own brand of security, and our own meaning.

So as I sat on the bus, wondering about these kids with no sense of snacking, I sat back and simply thought “They’ll find their way”. Even if every circumstance changes, this is something that never will.

This, and Arthur still being the best show ever.

But I’m le tired, or, How to stay motivated.

A good friend of mine asked me for a post on how to stay motivated, so here is my best attempt at it.

To be clear, this post is not about getting motivated. However, since you’ve already read this far, the fact is that you don’t have to get pumped about doing everything. You don’t need some wonderful reason to clean the kitchen, except the knowledge that it’s just something you should do. Some sort of inner motivation is often not essential to getting a one-off task or routine chore done. Continually trying to find this inner motivation can be a way of procrastinating, and its garbage. There’s a lot of wisdom in the phrase “just do it”.  As an aside, if your kitchen is dirty, go clean it now.

Staying motivated isn’t easy, even when you’re doing something you love. Leonardo da Vinci, the Renaissance Man himself, took 20 years to paint the Mona Lisa.

Staying motivated implies that you’ve already started your project. It means you’ve created a sketch, or written a few paragraphs, or started reading that book you’ve always wanted to read. Now comes the difficult part: your motivation has started to fade.

This could happen for any number of reasons. For me, it happens when I start making frequent mistakes or my improvement becomes less noticeable. A proper thing to do here is refresh your basic skills and persevere.  

“But I’ve tried that and it’s not working.” It happens. I would put aside whatever you’re working on and find a blank sheet of paper. I like paper because you can express your thoughts however you want. The first question you need to ask yourself is whether or not you want to quit. Now, I’m pretty big on not quitting and going down fighting, but if you are seriously not enjoying what you’re doing, and the internal and external rewards of doing it are not worth the effort, then give quitting some serious deliberation. If you decide to quit, I won’t hold it against you. Just make sure you do it for the right reasons.

If you decide to persevere, take your paper and write down what about the project drives you, what about it excites you. Generally, internal motivators work best, however if you really love money or fame, then begin with those. Again, whatever works best for you. Write down only the most meaningful internal and external motivators. Remember why you’re doing something.

As a current example, I started this blog because I won a contest and the company wanted to publicize my entry. Then I decided to write about fear, and the response was awesome (thanks guys!), so I decided to continue. My internal motivation is helping people be better, and my external motivation, if I’m being perfectly honest, is the feedback I get.

Now if you’re saying “Hey, Jeremy, that doesn’t instantly inspire me to write/paint/create something”, good, it wasn’t supposed to. It was meant to make the process enjoyable again. If you want to write/paint/create something, go and do it. Now. Stop reading and do it.

And if you’re just reading for interest, go enjoy a snack in your kitchen. Since you just cleaned it, you should be able to eat off the floors. However, unlike the cliché of “just do it”, I can’t vouch for the wisdom of this.

Editor’s note: If you have a topic idea, I’d love to hear from you! Suggestions can be made in the comments section or on Twitter @JeremyDeMello. Also, if you understand the reference in my title, you’re wonderful.