The Elephant Will Take You There

“Hey! How’s it been?”

“Hey! It’s been good! How are you?”

“Good! Work is picking up, but you know, probably the same for everybody right now.”

“Yeah, totally. I guess job stuff is a little bit crazy right now too.”

“Are you recruiting?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Oh, nice! Hey, good for you for getting on the employment game so early.”

[Some silence.]

“I’m guessing you’re not recruiting, then?”

“Yep, yep. You know, fellowships and what not. Apparently public service recruiting’s in October?”

“Haha, I guess you haven’t come over to the dark side yet, have you? Good for you, too.”

“Haha, yeah I guess. Okie dokes, I’m heading off to Boylston. See ya later, and good luck with your interviews!”

“Yeah, so good to see you!”

This article isn’t about the pros and cons of recruiting. Heck, it’s not even about the systematic problems that often make public service options too little, too late for seniors. I do need an outlet, though, to vent about some awkward conversations I’ve had lately with people who are recruiting, good friends and acquaintances alike. Likely, those folks probably want an outlet to vent about talking to a person who is not recruiting (or maybe about the experience of talking to me in general). So bear with me.

When a person who is recruiting and a person who is not recruiting begin a conversation about jobs, an elephant is born into the room. Both of you can sense the invisible young elephant dashing around like mad, and it really stresses you out like hell. So you eventually blow off the subject (“Gah, I know, so stressful”) and change the topic of conversation.

I have recently had the chance to meet said elephant. And now, I write to proliferate her message to my beloved peers.

There was a time I almost went to a recruiting event. It wasn’t consulting and it wasn’t finance, but it seemed vaguely within my field of interest. “Why not?” The only cost would be wearing my pencil skirt for an hour, and the food and chitchat would maybe make up for it. The return on investment on that pencil skirt has been low anyway, and this could be the chance.

But maybe God wanted me to write this column, so I bumped into two good friends while grabbing a quick dinner in advance of the event. When I mentioned my plans for the rest of the day, the elephant unfailingly appeared. But unlike me in the countless conversations I’d had from the flip side, my two friends were not afraid to call the elephant and give her a seat at the table.

The questions came, not too fast like the speed of bullets, but just intentionally timed enough to make for a thoughtful conversation. What does this company do? They took a look at the website. What does this description of “Our Work” really mean? What is the work that you’d be doing for them? Jenny, what is it that you want to do after school? Not to get touchy-feely, but what is your ideal role in society? Does their work match that role both in substance and spirit? Are there other reasons that you are considering this job that overpower any hesitation?

I ended up not attending the networking event that night.

In retrospect, it couldn’t have mattered less if I had gone to the recruiting event, applied, interviewed, gotten the job, and taken it. What mattered is that my two friends helped me face the elephant in the room, whether that elephant eventually confirmed my interest in the company or led me to realize that it wasn’t for me.

This applies to both sides of the coin. More than once this month, I have nervously sat across my computer with 12 Crimson Careers tabs open at 11:53 p.m. on the night of a major recruiting deadline. Was I making the right choice by not recruiting? Was I missing out?

Do a service to the person who is not recruiting by acknowledging the elephant: Why are you not recruiting? What do these companies do? Have you looked closely? What would be the work that you do? Does any of it fall in line with the vision you have for yourself?

Throughout the next year, the OCS emails will continue to arrive, and they will continue to drive us crazy, whether through fear of missing out or through constant self-consciousness about “selling out.” As classmates and peers, the least we can do is to step beyond the judgments in our minds—“ugh, here goes the annoying public service evangelist” or “ugh, I guess you sold your soul”—and help each other make intentional choices throughout the process.

So, let’s make the best of those awkward conversations. Without them, we wouldn’t have elephants to meet. The next time we chat, offer me your hand as we greet the elephant together; I will offer mine.

Jenny J. Choi ’16, is a social studies concentrator in Winthrop House. Her column appears on alternate Fridays.