If there were ever a more important time to network, I can’t remember it. I’ve been to so many going-away parties in the last few weeks that I’m starting to wonder what I’m still doing here. People who thought they’d played it professionally safe — bankers, lawyers, significant others of bankers and lawyers — are suddenly finding themselves among the nation’s growing jobless. And even those who remain gainfully employed are hoarding their cash, certain they’ll be the next to go.

So we young people do what any sane person would do: We spin the old mental Rolodex. We note all the people who don’t hate us and might be of some use. And then we send messages that read something like this:

Hey, Person I Need!

Long time no talk! How are you?! Sorry I haven’t written you in 17 years — boy have I been busy — but here’s some contrived anecdote to show I’ve been thinking about you. Thought you’d like to hear these few random things that are going on with me, too. Oh, by the way, I was thinking you could hire me/refer me/help me in some other way I’ve been generous enough to dream up for you. And since I’m sure you’re dying to read my resume, it’s attached. Totally can’t wait to catch up!

Sincerely,

Most Transparent Jobseeker Ever

If that sounds extreme, believe me, it’s not. I have, in fact, received a number of notes not unlike this myself in recent weeks. And for the record, it isn’t that I wouldn’t be happy to help if I could. It’s just that the approach is so completely disingenuous that it’s actually detrimental to the person’s cause. (And we Yers tend to be more prone to it because of our sometime lack of social graces, the quick and familiar way we communicate, and the broad if not deep virtual networks we’re able to maintain.)

As understandable — and essential — as the urge to work one’s connections is in times like these, there’s still an art to doing it. It’s rooted in basic common sense and good manners, and it applies in every situation, whether you’re sending an e-mail, Facebook message, smoke signal, singing telegram, or (gasp) letter. So, in the interest of maintaining our networking dignity, here are a couple suggestions for reaching out the right way…

1. Be honest — no, really. It’s important that any networking note we write contains the usual niceties (a “hope you’re doing well,” and some punctuation, for example), but don’t overdo it. When we try too hard to be all “great”s and giggles — especially in an attempt to obscure the fact that we want something — it usually has just the opposite effect. Not only does it draw attention to our self-serving motives, it can also be fairly insulting to the intelligence of the recipient. Why not, instead, try telling the truth? “I know it’s been a long time,” you might say, “but I recently started looking for a new job and, since you’re one of the people who’s offered help in that arena over the years, I thought I’d check in.” (And if the person’s a legitimate friend, a light-hearted nod to the awkwardness often diffuses any tension: “I’m so sorry you’re only hearing from me now, when I need you, but I hope you won’t hold it against me forever.”) It’s nothing revolutionary, but with trust in short supply these days, a little sincerity goes a very long way.
2. Ask for advice, not a gig. It’s never really proper to ask for a job outright unless you’re in an actual interview. But with the job market in the state it is, and everyone worried about their own job, it’s particularly poor form right now. Some people may not even respond to you if they feel pressured to produce a possible job or broker an introduction, so focus your energy on seeking out good advice, insights, and resources. If, for instance, there’s a job you’re interested in at an acquaintance’s company, write to ask what s/he thinks of the department, not to look for the hookup. This tack is flattering — after all, who doesn’t like the idea that their perspective might be valuable? — and it puts you in the positive light of a potential protégé or close colleague, someone that your contact may think of (fondly, and maybe even first) should a job prospect arise. This way, if they have a post or person to share with you, they can do so on their own terms. And if all they have to give you is a few words of wisdom, at least they know that’s worthwhile to you, too.
3. Do not attach your resume. And for that matter, don’t attach any other representations of your wonderfulness that are likely to lock up people’s inboxes, even if you’re sure they like you. Not only can it seem presumptuous, it also looks a bit desperate. Even if you’re posting to a group of friends about your job search, it’s much more effective (not to mention safer) to just include a few sentences about what you’re looking for and what you’ve done, rather than giving them your entire work history, which they’re not likely to read anyway. As a rule, re-establish contact first, then ply with documents.
4. Facebook doesn’t change anything. In our age of social networking, it can be tempting to use the relaxed attitude of tools like Facebook to take the work out of networking. It’s so easy now to just “friend” a person you haven’t talked to in years — without so much as a, “Remember me from high school?” — then hit them with the old, “I really love your company, so…” But take it from me, that isn’t going to be received any better by a Facebook friend than it would be by anyone else. Even on the Web, people know when they’re being used, and they don’t like it. So apply the same amount of courtesy and concern there as you would everywhere else.
5. Show a little gratitude. Remember that everyone, from the C-suite all the way down, is under pressure right now. So thank them for their time, and if they make an effort to respond, even if they don’t say much, realize it means something — and say so. Not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because it fosters a continuing relationship. We’re so connected, and it’s so easy to maintain those connections in today’s world, that there really is no excuse not to build and nurture as many substantive relationships as you can. (And just to be clear, by substantive, I don’t mean poking and gifting, but actual communication, like with words.) That may seem like a big investment of time for not very much immediate return — and goodness knows many of us really need the return at the moment — but trust me, you just never know.

So it’s a new year, and in the interest of all of us getting/staying employed in 2009, I thought I’d share some news about a recent beta launch that promises to help. It’s called Gotta Mentor, and yes, it is a social networking tool of sorts. Given my very public paranoia about how hokily-titled networking sites are diluting our real connections, you can imagine my skepticism. But where Facebook and MySpace are more or less for keeping up with friends, and LinkedIn is a sort of professional contacts list, Gotta Mentor is about engaging a small group of individuals who are focused exclusively on assisting you in developing your career, according to president and co-founder Ronald Mitchell.

Technology’s already been at work in the mentoring world, but as any mentee who’s suffered through a chemistry-free mentoring lunch can tell you, it’s mostly been to create huge databases of random facts that are about as good for matching people as personals ads. And that tends to make structured mentoring programs hugely unsatisfying. So it’s no surprise that the question Mitchell gets most is, “Why would people want to mentor?”

“The answer is simple,” he says. “Most people already do mentor. We believe that people want to give guidance and support to others. They just don’t want to give it to everyone. They want to invest their time in people they have an affinity with.” So in addition to facilitating mentoring relationships for people who already know each other, Gotta Mentor’s MentorMatch makes it easy to find a match based on what you already share—whether it’s family, college, a sorority, a sport, ethnicity, gender, employer, or all of the above.

Professionals from finance, consulting, marketing, education and other areas are already signed up, along with students from such schools as Yale, Harvard Business School, and the University of Pennsylvania. (The service is open to people at all levels, though.) And while their common experiences are great for engagement, Gotta Mentor doesn’t rely on that alone. In addition to resources such as personalized career coaching and searchable career development advice, Gotta Mentor formalizes its mentoring relationships: Mentors agree to a timeline, and advisees must share their career goals and expectations just to be connected. “We would rather you engage five people more substantively around your career than connect to 500,” Mitchell says.

To be frank, I’ll have to see it to believe it. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t state the obvious: The best mentors are the people who teach you over a lifetime of talking, thinking, and living, not necessarily the ones who give you a killer online resume review. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for Gotta Mentor’s brand of career guidance, too, or that relationships built in this sort of online community can’t translate elsewhere.

And streamlining the less organic parts of the mentoring experience certainly has its appeal, especially considering how embarrassing it can be for all parties concerned when someone levels the dreaded, “Will you be my mentor?” So I’m willing to give Gotta Mentor the benefit of the doubt. Because it just might work — and because I learned my lesson a few years ago: I had a similarly suspicious initial reaction to fellow Gotta Mentor co-founder John Rice’s education nonprofit, Management Leadership for Tomorrow, when I wrote about it in 2006. At first look, MLT — which aimed to get more diverse students into top MBA programs and beyond—seemed like yet another well-intentioned, but far too optimistic organization. But by the time I’d finished meeting some of its obsessed staffers, gushing Fortune 500 sponsors, and actual students who were now headed to Top 10 schools — it was clear Rice had proved me wrong. Just in case he’s done it again, give Gotta Mentor a look — and as always, let us know what you think.

Author and workplace expert Tamara Erickson — someone many of you longtime Gig readers will remember from posts such as “Job-hopping Gen Yers aren’t disloyal. They’re smart,” and “Money v. meaningful work, the battle continues” — has a new book out, and since she’s been such a source of good advice, we thought we’d give you a sneak peek. 

Plugged In: The Generation Y Guide to Thriving at Work focuses on Yers’ advantages — our fresh perspective, motivation, and willingness to take risks — and offers some guidance to help Yers fully connect to their colleagues and engage in the changing work world. In the following excerpt, Tammy introduces the “career curve” framework, one she says can help Yers identify the best job and career path to meet their work and life needs. 

What shape will your career take? The line of your career is not an even progression. The amount of time, the intensity of your involvement with the work, the pulls of family, and many other concerns all influence the shape at any given moment of that path — what I call the career curve.

The career curve framework guides you in thinking about the practical reality of what will work for you. How much money do you consider enough (or need so that you can pay off the debt that you are carrying from school loans)? How much time would you like to devote to work? What role would you like it to play in the mosaic of your life’s other activities?

Older adults have tended to think about one career curve. It used to be that the progression of a career meant a steady rise at one workplace through the years, and then a sharp and abrupt end — rather like falling off a cliff — when workers retired. That pattern is being replaced, by and large, by more of a bell curve: entry-level, full involvement and advancement, and then a winding down or deceleration phase as workers transition out of work. Gen Y’s, however, should be thinking of multiple curves. Quite likely, you will have ups, downs, and do-overs. For you, the career curve framework might better be called career carillon, because the line of your career is likely to resemble a series of bell curves.

As you think about different options for your career curve(s), consider these issues:

• Time: What other priorities do you have for your life? How much time would you like to devote to work? On the surface, this question is probably the most straightforward of all the considerations, although it’s also one of the most dependent on other choices you make. To a large extent, the amount of time you choose to devote to various activities, including work, will end up depending on how much you enjoy each one relative to the others. Nonetheless, it’s important to consider that, realistically, some careers are far more time-consuming than others.

• Rhythm: Lots of people say they’d like more flexibility in their work arrangements, but what would that really mean for you? How much spontaneity or predictability do you need to accomplish the other priorities in your life? Do you anticipate having other activities that are highly regular (for example, training for an athletic event that could be conducted at the same time every day), or are your other priorities more likely to be spontaneous (for example, going on an impromptu trip)? Would working four long days every week — the same four days — be more appealing to you, or would you rather work in episodic bursts? Various career choices allow very different rhythms.

• Economic reality: Get out your pencil or spreadsheet. It’s time to set some approximate financial goals. How much money do you need at this stage of your life? What standard of living will be comfortable for you? This is not a book about financial planning — there are plenty of those — but I encourage you to do some now. Be sure to take into account not only living expenses but also money required to pay off any student loans and to save for dreams you may have for the future. Consider the amount of help that you can realistically expect from your parents and family. Having a rough sense of your economic requirements will shape the choices that make sense.

• Challenge: Consider the extent to which you do want (or don’t want) to take on difficult or challenging roles at this point, including the level of commitment you would be willing to make to learn new skill and capabilities. How new and how difficult do you want your future work to be?

• Responsibility: Responsibility is a measure of the interdependence of your work with that of others. How willing are you to take on roles, including managerial tasks, that directly affect others? Are you comfortable having others depend on you? Are you willing to have people look to you for leadership or direction?

These questions help you shape the tangible reality of the work you prefer. Time and money may not be all that counts, but they are an important reality to factor in as you search for your passion.

Reprinted by permission of Harvard Business Press.  Adapted from Plugged In: The Generation Y Guide to Thriving at Work by Tamara Erickson.  Copyright 2008 Tamara J. Erickson.  All rights reserved. 

Today, a question from one of you. Gig reader Kurt writes:

“I’ve been thinking about switching jobs and finding something that will provide better benefits and salary for me and my new wife. But I was typing up a new resume and realized that — at 28 — I have five jobs that are one year apiece. How can I spin that in an interview as a positive? Can I just tell the truth and say that I’m not finding what I need, or do you think that might be a kiss of death?”

Well, Kurt, you’re definitely not alone. And while the job hunt is always stressful — no matter who you are and how great your resume might be — don’t let this particular issue keep you up at night. Because if the recruiters I talk to are any indication, your job-hopping isn’t as unusual as you might think. With more and more of us waiting to settle down and choosing “non-traditional” career paths — such as hostel-hopping through Europe or heading back to Mom and Dad’s while we write the great American novel — we’re less and less likely to stay in a bad job just because we need the money or don’t have other options.

Which is why you’ll hear some HR people say that they can’t get young employees to stay. But that’s actually a good thing for you. Because as more qualified, professional candidates come in with resumes that look like yours, those doing the hiring have been forced to focus less on job tenure and more on real skills and relevant experience.

But what does this actually mean? As discussed in a recent post, “Job-hopping Gen Yers aren’t disloyal, they’re smart,” many twentysomethings are simply opting for opportunities over loyalty. That was certainly the case for me: I came to Fortune at the age of 24, and it was already my fourth job out of school. Did that mean that I was a giant flake without any sense of purpose or commitment? Not really. Instead, it played as evidence of my risk-taking nature and willingness to follow the best gigs, managers, and experiences (or so my bosses tell me). And, ultimately, that made me a more attractive hire for companies that were looking for a person with a specific skillset and perspective, rather than someone they could develop all the way to retirement.

To be fair, I should point out that, while HR folks often say that we’re harder to keep than ever, the numbers don’t necessarily bear out our fickleness: In 2006, the median tenure for workers ages 25 to 34 was 2.9 years, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. And more than 20 years ago, in 1983, it was…3 years. Not exactly a dramatic drop. (And the same is generally true of younger workers: For those ages 20 to 24, the median tenure was 1.3 years in 2006, and 1.5 years in 1983.)

While there are economic fluctuations from decade to decade that caused some peaks and valleys, it’s possible that this relatively constant tenure number doesn’t yet capture the changing attitudes of young professionals. And one BLS survey found that the youngest Boomers — those born between 1957 and 1964 — held an average of 10.2 jobs between the ages of 18 and 38, a number that will probably just keep going up. Regardless, the fact is that recruiters definitely think we’re more fickle — and they’re starting to forgive us for it.

Of course, that doesn’t mean we should bounce around just for fun. After all, the postscript to my four-jobs-by-24 story is that I’ve now been at Fortune almost four years. And as Gig reader Dan pointed out in his response to the job-hopping post, “those who stay with the same employer for longer tend to get good at what they do,” among other things.

Of course, there are perfectly good reasons to move on, especially if you find yourself an expert at stapling and copying, but not much else. So, Kurt, if you can demonstrate some logic to your career moves, you’ll be in good shape. And in your case, with a new spouse — and the new priorities that (I hope!) come with that — you’re often even more desirable than you would be otherwise because recruiters know that you’re looking for stability.

So when you head into that next big interview, think about how you can show you’re a high performer who’s both learned and contributed in each job — and it won’t matter much whether you stay for one year or 10. (Though it’s probably a good idea to try to stay at least a year, as it’s kind of hard to argue you made a real mark in a job you had for six months.) I’m all for being honest about your struggles to find the right fit, but be sure to make the interview about how you made the best of each role, not how bad they all were. And since you’ll want to reassure the new company that you won’t be headed out the door fast, come with some examples of what makes their organization such a good one for you.

Think of the interview as a chance to tell your story. For so many of us Yers, that’s what work is — an enormous, seamlessly-integrated part of our personal stories that’s even more central because we often don’t have the things that take precedence over work in older people’s lives, like families. So figure out how to frame your career story in terms of trajectory and lessons and goals, and don’t get hung up on the numbers.

If you believe it, they just might, too.

What about you guys? Are your resumes similar to Kurt’s, or are you through with job-hopping?

We pick up our newspapers v. reality TV debate again with part two of all the Gen Y job-hunter needs to know.

For an equally fun, but quicker, photo-filled version, see here.

SCORE SO FAR: Newspapers 2; Reality TV 1
Lesson 4: It’s all in the Networking

Nadira says:
Reality show contestants may form “alliances,” but when it comes to creating a lasting network, nothing’s better than your local paper. That’s where you’ll find your community’s real luminaries, and potentially amass the tools to connect with them (since they’d probably rather bond over a shared love of Dick Cavett’s blog than an unhealthy obsession with The Hills). But my favorite insight from papers is about the art and luck of networking. Read successful people’s stories and it’s easy to see that most weren’t plotting ascendancy from the womb. They found a passion, made some mistakes, met some people, worked hard, and worked it out. And ultimately, that’s a better way to network than the strategies employed by, say, the social-climbing Real Housewives of New York City.

Jake says:
The “art and luck” hypothesis works, but I can’t believe you threw Dick Cavett and The Hills into the same sentence. Are you writing for Ashton or Demi?! Dictionary.com calls networking a “a supportive system of sharing information and services among individuals and groups having a common interest.” Sounds like the Big Brother House to me. Contestants on these shows have to share knowledge and resources skillfully, and they must be supportive of their peers. But while these relationships dominate, competitors who base alliances on utility alone rarely make the finals; the minute it gets tense, their networks fall apart. I ain’t gonna lie: Reality TV isn’t the forum for studying long-term networks, but it does show the value of true personal connections when you’re trying to build one.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because networks should be built, not brokered under penalty of ejection from the Big Brother house.

Lesson 5: Oh, the Pressure

Jake says:
Newspapers dissect drama while reality shows exploit drama. When it comes to office drama – from interoffice conflict to taking criticism – you might want to act impulsively and incite a brawl like a houseguest on The Real World or The Ultimate Fighter. But resist the urge. You’ll be better served looking at every angle and coming up with a measured response, the way a good newspaper story does. That’s always going to trump the emotionally-charged outbursts of reality TV (assuming you want to keep your job). Where drama’s concerned, what’s good for TV is bad for business.

Nadira says:
I’m all for a measured response, but angry coworkers or critical bosses can be as tough as any ultimate fighter, and chances are a well-written story isn’t going to be much help. But what is reality TV for if not dramatic situations? Like you said, once you’ve played “20 questions designed to dissolve you” with Donald Trump or Project Runway’s Nina Garcia, a plain old evaluation from your boss probably won’t faze you. And, hi, if you want to learn how to handle yourself in the midst of unmanageable chaos, look no further than Supernanny Jo Frost, whose workplace, like so many of ours, features huge crybabies, crazy clients, and all kinds of anger management issues. So if you need is a good lesson in confident, creative conflict-resolution, turn on JoJo. No, I mean it. Seriously.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because you have to see crazy people to believe them.

Lesson 6: Who’s Cool Around the Water-Cooler?

Jake says:
In the words (and spelling) of MC Hammer, “U Can’t Touch This”. The water cooler is an inter-office retreat where the stress and pressure of the day are abandoned in favor of gossip and irreverence. Global conflicts and local crime rates have no place near the cooler — and giggling and snickering do. No wonder reality television reigns supreme. But most of all, the water cooler is about circulation. And the combined daily circulation of USA Today, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal is only a fraction of the 30 million people watch every episode of American Idol. If you want to make water cooler friends, Simon Cowell is your best bet.

Nadira says:
This is one place where newspapers simply have to bow to the juggernaut that is reality TV. Because while you may impress a superior or two with your weekend news items, once you’re dealing with people you actually know, they’d probably much rather talk about the latest American Idol or Top Chef than that hot front-page story in the paper that they were too tired to read all weekend. So while you should have a few paper gems in your back pocket, in the unlikely event your CEO drops by the water cooler huddle and doesn’t want to hear your predictions for America’s Next Top Model, I’m probably going to have to defer to Jake on this one…

WINNER: Reality TV. Because 30 million people can’t all be wrong — and even if they are, you want them to like you!

Lesson 7: No Direction, No Hope

Jake says:
(Note: Like Arnold in Terminator 2, I recognize and accept that I am going to get killed in this episode.) The beauty of reality TV is that we get to witness the struggles of young people who are searching for direction. Unlike newsworthy characters in the paper, reality TV characters are not at the top of their professional game. If they were, they wouldn’t have time to flirt with Bret Michaels or kayak around the world on The Amazing Race. (Even the (so-called) celebrities on VH1’s Celeb-reality programming are unsure of their career trajectory.) But we get to learn from and laugh at their mistakes. We learn that it’s okay to be vaguely ambitious. And we learn that it’s not okay to swim naked in a fish tank (on camera) like Isaac did in The Real World: Sydney, as that could affect your chances of landing a job in the future.

Nadira says:
Just watch the Real World Awards Bash ‘08, and it’s clear reality TV can show you which direction not to go. Case in point: your poor, hilarious, aquarium-diving Isaac, who seemed to be only half-joking when he said in his update that he was now living in a friend’s basement, stealing to eat, and grateful to MTV for ruining his life. So please, for the love of all things holy, do not look to reality TV to plan your life. Open instead the pages, be they paper or web, of your favorite newspaper and read it all. Use the real estate listings to plan your future as a homeowner. Transition from college chic to yo-pro appropriate with the style section. Oh, and consider scanning the actual news, since the kind of person you want to become would probably like to know at least as much about American politics as about Celebreality.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because Bret Michaels’ groupies may be relatable, but you should probably be aiming for “respectable.”

FINAL SCORE: Newspapers 4; Reality TV 3

And there you have it, sports fans — the exciting conclusion to The Gig’s first-ever face-off. Those defenders of the written word out there can breathe easy for the time being, as newspapers pulled it out in the end. But we wouldn’t get too comfortable. Reality TV, long maligned as a straight line to procrastination and increased stupidity for young people everywhere, almost squeaked by. And that, combined with that stat from the New Yorker about newspapers going extinct somewhere around 2043 (you laugh, I link), would have me worried, paper-people. But for now, keep reading your Posts, Tribunes, Chronicles, and Times(es). And watching The Hills, of course. Good (job) hunting.

We pick up our newspapers v. reality TV debate again with part two of all the Gen Y job-hunter needs to know.

For an equally fun, but quicker, photo-filled version, see here.

SCORE SO FAR: Newspapers 2; Reality TV 1
Lesson 4: It’s all in the Networking

Nadira says:
Reality show contestants may form “alliances,” but when it comes to creating a lasting network, nothing’s better than your local paper. That’s where you’ll find your community’s real luminaries, and potentially amass the tools to connect with them (since they’d probably rather bond over a shared love of Dick Cavett’s blog than an unhealthy obsession with The Hills). But my favorite insight from papers is about the art and luck of networking. Read successful people’s stories and it’s easy to see that most weren’t plotting ascendancy from the womb. They found a passion, made some mistakes, met some people, worked hard, and worked it out. And ultimately, that’s a better way to network than the strategies employed by, say, the social-climbing Real Housewives of New York City.

Jake says:
The “art and luck” hypothesis works, but I can’t believe you threw Dick Cavett and The Hills into the same sentence. Are you writing for Ashton or Demi?! Dictionary.com calls networking a “a supportive system of sharing information and services among individuals and groups having a common interest.” Sounds like the Big Brother House to me. Contestants on these shows have to share knowledge and resources skillfully, and they must be supportive of their peers. But while these relationships dominate, competitors who base alliances on utility alone rarely make the finals; the minute it gets tense, their networks fall apart. I ain’t gonna lie: Reality TV isn’t the forum for studying long-term networks, but it does show the value of true personal connections when you’re trying to build one.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because networks should be built, not brokered under penalty of ejection from the Big Brother house.

Lesson 5: Oh, the Pressure

Jake says:
Newspapers dissect drama while reality shows exploit drama. When it comes to office drama – from interoffice conflict to taking criticism – you might want to act impulsively and incite a brawl like a houseguest on The Real World or The Ultimate Fighter. But resist the urge. You’ll be better served looking at every angle and coming up with a measured response, the way a good newspaper story does. That’s always going to trump the emotionally-charged outbursts of reality TV (assuming you want to keep your job). Where drama’s concerned, what’s good for TV is bad for business.

Nadira says:
I’m all for a measured response, but angry coworkers or critical bosses can be as tough as any ultimate fighter, and chances are a well-written story isn’t going to be much help. But what is reality TV for if not dramatic situations? Like you said, once you’ve played “20 questions designed to dissolve you” with Donald Trump or Project Runway’s Nina Garcia, a plain old evaluation from your boss probably won’t faze you. And, hi, if you want to learn how to handle yourself in the midst of unmanageable chaos, look no further than Supernanny Jo Frost, whose workplace, like so many of ours, features huge crybabies, crazy clients, and all kinds of anger management issues. So if you need is a good lesson in confident, creative conflict-resolution, turn on JoJo. No, I mean it. Seriously.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because you have to see crazy people to believe them.

Lesson 6: Who’s Cool Around the Water-Cooler?

Jake says:
In the words (and spelling) of MC Hammer, “U Can’t Touch This”. The water cooler is an inter-office retreat where the stress and pressure of the day are abandoned in favor of gossip and irreverence. Global conflicts and local crime rates have no place near the cooler — and giggling and snickering do. No wonder reality television reigns supreme. But most of all, the water cooler is about circulation. And the combined daily circulation of USA Today, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal is only a fraction of the 30 million people watch every episode of American Idol. If you want to make water cooler friends, Simon Cowell is your best bet.

Nadira says:
This is one place where newspapers simply have to bow to the juggernaut that is reality TV. Because while you may impress a superior or two with your weekend news items, once you’re dealing with people you actually know, they’d probably much rather talk about the latest American Idol or Top Chef than that hot front-page story in the paper that they were too tired to read all weekend. So while you should have a few paper gems in your back pocket, in the unlikely event your CEO drops by the water cooler huddle and doesn’t want to hear your predictions for America’s Next Top Model, I’m probably going to have to defer to Jake on this one…

WINNER: Reality TV. Because 30 million people can’t all be wrong — and even if they are, you want them to like you!

Lesson 7: No Direction, No Hope

Jake says:
(Note: Like Arnold in Terminator 2, I recognize and accept that I am going to get killed in this episode.) The beauty of reality TV is that we get to witness the struggles of young people who are searching for direction. Unlike newsworthy characters in the paper, reality TV characters are not at the top of their professional game. If they were, they wouldn’t have time to flirt with Bret Michaels or kayak around the world on The Amazing Race. (Even the (so-called) celebrities on VH1’s Celeb-reality programming are unsure of their career trajectory.) But we get to learn from and laugh at their mistakes. We learn that it’s okay to be vaguely ambitious. And we learn that it’s not okay to swim naked in a fish tank (on camera) like Isaac did in The Real World: Sydney, as that could affect your chances of landing a job in the future.

Nadira says:
Just watch the Real World Awards Bash ‘08, and it’s clear reality TV can show you which direction not to go. Case in point: your poor, hilarious, aquarium-diving Isaac, who seemed to be only half-joking when he said in his update that he was now living in a friend’s basement, stealing to eat, and grateful to MTV for ruining his life. So please, for the love of all things holy, do not look to reality TV to plan your life. Open instead the pages, be they paper or web, of your favorite newspaper and read it all. Use the real estate listings to plan your future as a homeowner. Transition from college chic to yo-pro appropriate with the style section. Oh, and consider scanning the actual news, since the kind of person you want to become would probably like to know at least as much about American politics as about Celebreality.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because Bret Michaels’ groupies may be relatable, but you should probably be aiming for “respectable.”

FINAL SCORE: Newspapers 4; Reality TV 3

And there you have it, sports fans — the exciting conclusion to The Gig’s first-ever face-off. Those defenders of the written word out there can breathe easy for the time being, as newspapers pulled it out in the end. But we wouldn’t get too comfortable. Reality TV, long maligned as a straight line to procrastination and increased stupidity for young people everywhere, almost squeaked by. And that, combined with that stat from the New Yorker about newspapers going extinct somewhere around 2043 (you laugh, I link), would have me worried, paper-people. But for now, keep reading your Posts, Tribunes, Chronicles, and Times(es). And watching The Hills, of course. Good (job) hunting.

When I heard about Whoa! My Boss is Naked: A Career Book for People Who Would Never Be Caught Dead Reading a Career Book from a friend, I wasn’t exactly rearing to read it. While we’ve been planning lots more books coverage on The Gig, there are 50 terrible career books like this for each good one, and this one happened to be written by a Stanford classmate, Jake Greene, who, while I didn’t know him personally, was widely held to be a pretty nice guy with good ideas and access to all my personal contact information through the alumni page.

So while I steeled myself for the brush-off I’d inevitably have to give him, I gave it a flip-through. And found chapter titles like, “Get Up, Get Out, and Do Something: Fold up the futon. It’s time to get your hands dirty,” and, “40-Year-Old Q&A: Lessons in BS from Hollywood’s favorite virgin.” Then there was the “Toolish Tendencies Test” in the appendix. And once I was wooed enough to actually read, the winning opening line: “This is not another ‘Corporate Tools for Corporate Tools’ handbook.”

There was something, it seemed, to this Jake Greene guy’s approach. In fact, the 28-year-old marketing consultant was a little unexpected himself. He’s married, wore a suit(!) to meet me, and would rather talk on the real phone than e-mail or text. And he hasn’t always wanted to write a book to share his wisdom. (Hah.) Whoa! grew out of his observations on the road working for a real-estate development startup, a collection of journal entries that eventually started to look like a book.

So to start us off in our ‘08 books conversation, I thought we’d take a more unorthodox approach with this one and have some fun (before getting back to the serious stuff, of course). In Whoa!, Greene argues that pop culture’s a great prep tool for twentysomethings in the job market, especially since we all for the most part grew up on it — Cosby Show, Full House, everything ever aired on MTV. And that’s even more true today, with the rise of reality TV and all its contrived challenges.

So we decided to put some of Jake’s thinking to the test. He and I spent some time watching reality TV and reading major newspapers, then settled in to argue high-school-debate-style about which wins out in the arenas that matter, from initiative to interviewing skills, and pick winners in each. Of course, being that, as writers and Yers, we love both papers and pop culture, we had a hard time picking sides, so we tried to switch it up in each category, to keep it fair and fresh — and allow us to show all our embarrassing knowledge of the highs and lows of modern media. And when we were done, we tallied the score to crown the king of the Newspapers v. Reality TV smack-down.

So what’s better a primer for the Gen Y job-seeker? Supernanny or the New York Times? Read on to find out…

And see a quick, photo-filled version here

Lesson 1: Building a Better Resume

Nadira says:
What better resume-builder is there than the New York Times? There’s the actual careers coverage, of course, but take something like the Vows section. Every Sunday, it forces dozens of couples to distill their lives into a few hundred choice words, a skill we could all use. And what is a newspaper profile but an inside look at what people remember, how they remember it, and the many ways in which it can be spun. Which, after all, is what a good resume is all about. But perhaps the best part of reading a paper is the collected quirkyness of it—a place where politicians and athletes appear alongside Portishead and the Brooklyn Flea Market, a recent Sunday Times. It’s that kind of energy that makes the best resumes, and nothing captures it quite like a good newspaper.

Jake says:
I like your material and memory argument, but the Vows section? Really? Also, if you want to see writers mingle with washed-up band members, watch The Surreal Life. Reality TV shows viewers what can happen if they don’t take their resumes seriously. Every season premiere of The Bachelor/Bachelorette is full of “customer service specialists” (waiters) and “entrepreneurs” (unemployed slackers). These upgrades are easier to spot than Janice Dickinson’s “cosmetic enhancements.” And what about how your prioritize your experience? My sister reminded me that Erik from Survivor is identified as “Ice Cream Scooper.” My guess is Erik — who’s also an an Eastern Michigan University student and athlete — listed his part-time dairy duties a bit too high on his Survivor application.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because we’d rather be worth a Vows column than end up an ice-cream scooper.

Lesson 2: A Little Initiative Goes a Long Way

Nadira says:
It’s not easy to end up on reality TV. Witness the crazy lines of people hoping to be the next American idol, top model, or Real World, um, star. Never mind the ones who do multiple shows. That takes work! But for true reality initiative, look no further than Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Just about every episode has the sisters taking on some new challenge head-on. Like the time brother Rob wouldn’t introduce them to his new girl. Solution? Steal her number from his phone and interrogate her over coffee, of course. Khloe refuses to get a boyfriend? Secretly sign her up for a dating site. Duh! Even 12-year-old Kendall gets in the act. Offered some cash for chores, she contracts the work out to the local dog-walker at sweat-shop rates. Ethically questionable, for sure, but ingenious nonetheless.

Jake says:
Every issue of every newspaper is filled with people showing initiative, whether in business, sports, entertainment, or at the community level. In fact, one would be hard pressed to find stories in the paper in which nobody showed any initiative. Read about that ambition and it just might rub off. Beyond that, it takes initiative on the part of the reporters to track down stories and sources. (Significantly more initiative, I might add, then it takes Flava Flav to read cue cards.) And it takes initiative to report the news in real-time. And to meet deadlines every day in order to produce a respectable product. Stop every once in a while to appreciate the efficiency and perseverance it takes to (in the words of Project Runway’s Tim Gunn) “Make it Work,” and hope that rubs off on you, too.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because you need to learn the right kind of initiative, not the kind that ends in labor abuses.

Lesson 3: The Art of the Interview

Jake says:
Just turn on Bravo. The “face-the-judges” portion of any Project Runway or Top Chef episode provides both effective and tragic strategies for handling tough interview questions. And the people answering aren’t seasoned industry leaders like the experts in the paper. They’re young, inexperienced, and prone to making mistakes we can learn from. The same goes for dating shows. Many writers (myself included) liken the interview process to dating — both involve anticipation, conversation, humiliation, and (if you get lucky) consummation. And that makes dating shows, with their over-the-top characters doing all the wrong things, like instructional videos for interviewing. Great example: I think Daisy from Rock of Love said “like” and “ya know?” at least 50 times during her video testimonials. Yikes.

Nadira says:
Point taken. What can compete with Daisy’s wide eyes and red lips, whatever the heck they’re saying? Still, the one place a newspaper really can help you is in an actual interview. Because I can’t tell you how many recruiters have told me that they’ve been most put off by candidates’ total lack of current events knowledge — in their industry and in general. And sure you could Google that info, but chances are that Google’d take you to a story that somewhere, sometime, came from a newspaper journalist. And no, cable news is not a viable alternative; you do not want to remind your interviewer of a vaguely interested anchor glossing over the meaningful issues and packaging the rest for maximum sensationalist effect. So read, for crying out loud.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because reading can’t make you sweat like Heidi Klum can.

Stay tuned for next week, when we’ll find out if Bret Michaels really can help you plan for the future…

When I heard about Whoa! My Boss is Naked: A Career Book for People Who Would Never Be Caught Dead Reading a Career Book from a friend, I wasn’t exactly rearing to read it. While we’ve been planning lots more books coverage on The Gig, there are 50 terrible career books like this for each good one, and this one happened to be written by a Stanford classmate, Jake Greene, who, while I didn’t know him personally, was widely held to be a pretty nice guy with good ideas and access to all my personal contact information through the alumni page.

So while I steeled myself for the brush-off I’d inevitably have to give him, I gave it a flip-through. And found chapter titles like, “Get Up, Get Out, and Do Something: Fold up the futon. It’s time to get your hands dirty,” and, “40-Year-Old Q&A: Lessons in BS from Hollywood’s favorite virgin.” Then there was the “Toolish Tendencies Test” in the appendix. And once I was wooed enough to actually read, the winning opening line: “This is not another ‘Corporate Tools for Corporate Tools’ handbook.”

There was something, it seemed, to this Jake Greene guy’s approach. In fact, the 28-year-old marketing consultant was a little unexpected himself. He’s married, wore a suit(!) to meet me, and would rather talk on the real phone than e-mail or text. And he hasn’t always wanted to write a book to share his wisdom. (Hah.) Whoa! grew out of his observations on the road working for a real-estate development startup, a collection of journal entries that eventually started to look like a book.

So to start us off in our ‘08 books conversation, I thought we’d take a more unorthodox approach with this one and have some fun (before getting back to the serious stuff, of course). In Whoa!, Greene argues that pop culture’s a great prep tool for twentysomethings in the job market, especially since we all for the most part grew up on it — Cosby Show, Full House, everything ever aired on MTV. And that’s even more true today, with the rise of reality TV and all its contrived challenges.

So we decided to put some of Jake’s thinking to the test. He and I spent some time watching reality TV and reading major newspapers, then settled in to argue high-school-debate-style about which wins out in the arenas that matter, from initiative to interviewing skills, and pick winners in each. Of course, being that, as writers and Yers, we love both papers and pop culture, we had a hard time picking sides, so we tried to switch it up in each category, to keep it fair and fresh — and allow us to show all our embarrassing knowledge of the highs and lows of modern media. And when we were done, we tallied the score to crown the king of the Newspapers v. Reality TV smack-down.

So what’s better a primer for the Gen Y job-seeker? Supernanny or the New York Times? Read on to find out…

And see a quick, photo-filled version here

Lesson 1: Building a Better Resume

Nadira says:
What better resume-builder is there than the New York Times? There’s the actual careers coverage, of course, but take something like the Vows section. Every Sunday, it forces dozens of couples to distill their lives into a few hundred choice words, a skill we could all use. And what is a newspaper profile but an inside look at what people remember, how they remember it, and the many ways in which it can be spun. Which, after all, is what a good resume is all about. But perhaps the best part of reading a paper is the collected quirkyness of it—a place where politicians and athletes appear alongside Portishead and the Brooklyn Flea Market, a recent Sunday Times. It’s that kind of energy that makes the best resumes, and nothing captures it quite like a good newspaper.

Jake says:
I like your material and memory argument, but the Vows section? Really? Also, if you want to see writers mingle with washed-up band members, watch The Surreal Life. Reality TV shows viewers what can happen if they don’t take their resumes seriously. Every season premiere of The Bachelor/Bachelorette is full of “customer service specialists” (waiters) and “entrepreneurs” (unemployed slackers). These upgrades are easier to spot than Janice Dickinson’s “cosmetic enhancements.” And what about how your prioritize your experience? My sister reminded me that Erik from Survivor is identified as “Ice Cream Scooper.” My guess is Erik — who’s also an an Eastern Michigan University student and athlete — listed his part-time dairy duties a bit too high on his Survivor application.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because we’d rather be worth a Vows column than end up an ice-cream scooper.

Lesson 2: A Little Initiative Goes a Long Way

Nadira says:
It’s not easy to end up on reality TV. Witness the crazy lines of people hoping to be the next American idol, top model, or Real World, um, star. Never mind the ones who do multiple shows. That takes work! But for true reality initiative, look no further than Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Just about every episode has the sisters taking on some new challenge head-on. Like the time brother Rob wouldn’t introduce them to his new girl. Solution? Steal her number from his phone and interrogate her over coffee, of course. Khloe refuses to get a boyfriend? Secretly sign her up for a dating site. Duh! Even 12-year-old Kendall gets in the act. Offered some cash for chores, she contracts the work out to the local dog-walker at sweat-shop rates. Ethically questionable, for sure, but ingenious nonetheless.

Jake says:
Every issue of every newspaper is filled with people showing initiative, whether in business, sports, entertainment, or at the community level. In fact, one would be hard pressed to find stories in the paper in which nobody showed any initiative. Read about that ambition and it just might rub off. Beyond that, it takes initiative on the part of the reporters to track down stories and sources. (Significantly more initiative, I might add, then it takes Flava Flav to read cue cards.) And it takes initiative to report the news in real-time. And to meet deadlines every day in order to produce a respectable product. Stop every once in a while to appreciate the efficiency and perseverance it takes to (in the words of Project Runway’s Tim Gunn) “Make it Work,” and hope that rubs off on you, too.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because you need to learn the right kind of initiative, not the kind that ends in labor abuses.

Lesson 3: The Art of the Interview

Jake says:
Just turn on Bravo. The “face-the-judges” portion of any Project Runway or Top Chef episode provides both effective and tragic strategies for handling tough interview questions. And the people answering aren’t seasoned industry leaders like the experts in the paper. They’re young, inexperienced, and prone to making mistakes we can learn from. The same goes for dating shows. Many writers (myself included) liken the interview process to dating — both involve anticipation, conversation, humiliation, and (if you get lucky) consummation. And that makes dating shows, with their over-the-top characters doing all the wrong things, like instructional videos for interviewing. Great example: I think Daisy from Rock of Love said “like” and “ya know?” at least 50 times during her video testimonials. Yikes.

Nadira says:
Point taken. What can compete with Daisy’s wide eyes and red lips, whatever the heck they’re saying? Still, the one place a newspaper really can help you is in an actual interview. Because I can’t tell you how many recruiters have told me that they’ve been most put off by candidates’ total lack of current events knowledge — in their industry and in general. And sure you could Google that info, but chances are that Google’d take you to a story that somewhere, sometime, came from a newspaper journalist. And no, cable news is not a viable alternative; you do not want to remind your interviewer of a vaguely interested anchor glossing over the meaningful issues and packaging the rest for maximum sensationalist effect. So read, for crying out loud.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because reading can’t make you sweat like Heidi Klum can.

Stay tuned for next week, when we’ll find out if Bret Michaels really can help you plan for the future…

After a Gen Y talk recently, an audience member shared an interesting story that went something like this: He — an Xer — was running late for a meeting, and he called down to tell the other employees, all younger, to start without him. Only nobody answered. So, thinking the line was tied up, he ran down to the room, only to find the seven Yers looking at each other, evidently unsure of what to do in the presence of a ringing phone.

Now there are a lot of reasons for this behavior, not the least of which might be stupidity, but I think it may have more to do with something that’s been obsessing me lately: confidence. For all the talk of our narcissism and unrealistic expectations, we also seem to lack a certain go-it-alone bravado that’s characterized many great leaders — bravado that just can’t be cultivated when you have a whole universe of parents, coaches, nannies, teammates and Facebook friends ready to rescue you at a moment’s notice. Like any toddler whose mother runs to him every time he falls, we’ve just learned to cry for help (really loudly), not pick ourselves up.

Gig reader Keith V., a 37-year-old father of four and law student who wrote in about his recent observations of the Yers in his classes, has noticed this, too. “You guys are more skilled and know more than your parents now,” he says. “The only thing you [lack] is confidence. For example, last night in my litigation course, my professor (a baby boomer)…confessed that he didn’t know what a motion in limine was until five years out of law school. A girl in my class (probably about 25) had already done one as an advocate, but had to be coaxed to offer this.” And asked the same evening if they’d ever seen an oral argument, something they’d all witnessed in their legal writing class, nary a peep was heard. Until Keith raised his hand to say they had — after which, of course, everyone chimed in to agree.

One might think that, for students who’ve decided to invest tens of thousands of dollars in law school, it might be worth it to, say, speak up in class and engage in the education they’ve probably paid through the nose for. But as many recent grads could tell you, law school and other graduate work, while obviously valuable, has also for some Yers become just another way of holding the real world — and the purportedly lonely and cutthroat corporate America — at bay. (As a close friend put it to my little sister recently, “You could always just get a PhD to buy some time till you’re 30.” And she’s not wrong; there are definitely people who think this way.)

What is that about, if not confidence? At least that’s what the folks at Hayden-Wilder, a firm that counsels recently minted college grads and rising seniors through the entry-level job search, told me when I spoke to them last year about the emerging Gen Y persona. “These young people don’t understand that they need to distinguish themselves,” says D.A. Hayden. “It’s almost wrong to reach out and say, ‘I’m a leader,’ They’re trained to work in teams — in school, in extracurriculars — they travel in groups of people, they don’t date singly. Everything is in this touchy-feely team environment. That’s all fine and merry when you’re a very junior candidate, but when you start moving up through the ranks, you have to put a stake in the ground.”

But does this explain why those junior staffers didn’t pick up that ringing phone? Hayden thinks so: “This manifests in all sorts of ways, from not having focus to having hyper focus; to being in La-La Land about what they can and can’t do; to what they make in terms of money — some just want to make money, while others don’t care at all. All of that translates into confidence.” So while different Yers might exhibit seemingly opposite behaviors — for instance, one might be too eager while another may seem disinterested — both could be coming from the same feeling of fear and insecurity bred by never having had to be this self-sufficient or self-motivated before. “Because this generation has been so coddled,” says Michael Wilder, pointing to Yers’ ever-present boomer parents, “when they do have to make a decision on their own, they’re looking for affirmation. They have no basic experience to allow them to be confident about the decisions they’re making.”

Which means, it isn’t so much that the Yers can’t answer the phone, it’s that they’ve never had to. And if one of them had decided to take that insane risk and break away from his shrugging cohort, he may well have been labeling himself a rebel, show-off, know-it-all, or any number of other schoolyard slurs for life. In short, he would not have been a team-player. And what worse fate is there than that for this generation of extracurricular-activity-addicts? It’s a funny charge to level, I know, considering the aforementioned assessment of Yers as inherently egomaniacal teacher’s pets. But as anyone who went to elementary school can attest, for both the teacher’s pet and the loudmouth Yer, all that flailing around is often just a desperate attempt to distract from the qualities they don’t possess, be it grade-school social standing or grown-up work experience.

And we see these evasive tactics everywhere: Friends hiding behind “finding themselves,” going from job to job, or even going back to school for no reason other than that they’re afraid they won’t really be able to cut it in the working world. And that’s the trouble. Because how are we ever supposed to believe we can do something if we never actually do it on our own? (Or, to be a complete dork and quote Dr. Wayne, of Batman Begins fame, “Why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.”)

It’s scary, but as Michael Wilder puts it, you have to “teach yourself to think like an individual.” Not like a “we,” or like your parents, your friends, your colleagues, or even your company. Just a you. It’s a start. And from there, your employer can begin to see you as an individual, too, instead of as a representative of an entire generation of people s/he doesn’t like much. Which then leads to more opportunities for you, the individual — opportunities that help you to … build your confidence!

Who knows? Before too long, you may even pick up the phone.

Do Gen Yers just need a hug? Or are they the egomaniacs they’ve been made out to be? Tell us what you think…

After a Gen Y talk recently, an audience member shared an interesting story that went something like this: He — an Xer — was running late for a meeting, and he called down to tell the other employees, all younger, to start without him. Only nobody answered. So, thinking the line was tied up, he ran down to the room, only to find the seven Yers looking at each other, evidently unsure of what to do in the presence of a ringing phone.

Now there are a lot of reasons for this behavior, not the least of which might be stupidity, but I think it may have more to do with something that’s been obsessing me lately: confidence. For all the talk of our narcissism and unrealistic expectations, we also seem to lack a certain go-it-alone bravado that’s characterized many great leaders — bravado that just can’t be cultivated when you have a whole universe of parents, coaches, nannies, teammates and Facebook friends ready to rescue you at a moment’s notice. Like any toddler whose mother runs to him every time he falls, we’ve just learned to cry for help (really loudly), not pick ourselves up.

Gig reader Keith V., a 37-year-old father of four and law student who wrote in about his recent observations of the Yers in his classes, has noticed this, too. “You guys are more skilled and know more than your parents now,” he says. “The only thing you [lack] is confidence. For example, last night in my litigation course, my professor (a baby boomer)…confessed that he didn’t know what a motion in limine was until five years out of law school. A girl in my class (probably about 25) had already done one as an advocate, but had to be coaxed to offer this.” And asked the same evening if they’d ever seen an oral argument, something they’d all witnessed in their legal writing class, nary a peep was heard. Until Keith raised his hand to say they had — after which, of course, everyone chimed in to agree.

One might think that, for students who’ve decided to invest tens of thousands of dollars in law school, it might be worth it to, say, speak up in class and engage in the education they’ve probably paid through the nose for. But as many recent grads could tell you, law school and other graduate work, while obviously valuable, has also for some Yers become just another way of holding the real world — and the purportedly lonely and cutthroat corporate America — at bay. (As a close friend put it to my little sister recently, “You could always just get a PhD to buy some time till you’re 30.” And she’s not wrong; there are definitely people who think this way.)

What is that about, if not confidence? At least that’s what the folks at Hayden-Wilder, a firm that counsels recently minted college grads and rising seniors through the entry-level job search, told me when I spoke to them last year about the emerging Gen Y persona. “These young people don’t understand that they need to distinguish themselves,” says D.A. Hayden. “It’s almost wrong to reach out and say, ‘I’m a leader,’ They’re trained to work in teams — in school, in extracurriculars — they travel in groups of people, they don’t date singly. Everything is in this touchy-feely team environment. That’s all fine and merry when you’re a very junior candidate, but when you start moving up through the ranks, you have to put a stake in the ground.”

But does this explain why those junior staffers didn’t pick up that ringing phone? Hayden thinks so: “This manifests in all sorts of ways, from not having focus to having hyper focus; to being in La-La Land about what they can and can’t do; to what they make in terms of money — some just want to make money, while others don’t care at all. All of that translates into confidence.” So while different Yers might exhibit seemingly opposite behaviors — for instance, one might be too eager while another may seem disinterested — both could be coming from the same feeling of fear and insecurity bred by never having had to be this self-sufficient or self-motivated before. “Because this generation has been so coddled,” says Michael Wilder, pointing to Yers’ ever-present boomer parents, “when they do have to make a decision on their own, they’re looking for affirmation. They have no basic experience to allow them to be confident about the decisions they’re making.”

Which means, it isn’t so much that the Yers can’t answer the phone, it’s that they’ve never had to. And if one of them had decided to take that insane risk and break away from his shrugging cohort, he may well have been labeling himself a rebel, show-off, know-it-all, or any number of other schoolyard slurs for life. In short, he would not have been a team-player. And what worse fate is there than that for this generation of extracurricular-activity-addicts? It’s a funny charge to level, I know, considering the aforementioned assessment of Yers as inherently egomaniacal teacher’s pets. But as anyone who went to elementary school can attest, for both the teacher’s pet and the loudmouth Yer, all that flailing around is often just a desperate attempt to distract from the qualities they don’t possess, be it grade-school social standing or grown-up work experience.

And we see these evasive tactics everywhere: Friends hiding behind “finding themselves,” going from job to job, or even going back to school for no reason other than that they’re afraid they won’t really be able to cut it in the working world. And that’s the trouble. Because how are we ever supposed to believe we can do something if we never actually do it on our own? (Or, to be a complete dork and quote Dr. Wayne, of Batman Begins fame, “Why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.”)

It’s scary, but as Michael Wilder puts it, you have to “teach yourself to think like an individual.” Not like a “we,” or like your parents, your friends, your colleagues, or even your company. Just a you. It’s a start. And from there, your employer can begin to see you as an individual, too, instead of as a representative of an entire generation of people s/he doesn’t like much. Which then leads to more opportunities for you, the individual — opportunities that help you to … build your confidence!

Who knows? Before too long, you may even pick up the phone.

Do Gen Yers just need a hug? Or are they the egomaniacs they’ve been made out to be? Tell us what you think…

Whether you’re applying for your first job, negotiating your first raise, or counseling newbie friends on how to handle theirs, compensation is always a hot topic with young workers. So in the interest of doing some good this holiday, we checked in with Jenny Floren, CEO of Web-based college recruiting platform Experience.com, for a little advice on navigating the crazy compensation process. A corporate survivor herself, Floren and crew first partnered with Fortune for this year’s Best Companies for Entry-level Employees package. And though she thinks some age-old problems, like the compensation gender gap, are fading into the past with Gen Y, Floren says we still have a thing or two to learn. So to that end, a few thoughts on getting a great job — and the salary to go with it.

• Get as much information as you can. Compensation for entry-level positions is usually based on  overall compensation structure, so to the extent that you can find out how a company sets its tiers, you’ll know what you’re in for in the long term. And that’s key, even when negotiating that first job. “Oftentimes, at the entry level, the flexibility might be limited, but they really leapfrog you when you take that next step up,” Floren says. “So getting an employer to explain how all of that works is ammunition for that next step up. Ask what it will take to get there, and consistently monitor where you are so that you can proactively manage it.”

• Start the conversation early. “Assume the offer you get is somewhere close to what they can offer,” says Floren. “The employer is not sandbagging you, trying to offend you, or saying you’re not worth $35 zillion by offering you $35,000. But it shows confidence and professionalism to come back.” Ask if there’s any flexibility, and when they ask what kind you’re looking for, come back with something reasonable, based upon your knowledge of your own situation and the industry in general. Floren recommends using available compensation services (salary.com, vault.com and her own experience.com), as well as widely available research and studies about industry norms to figure out where you should be and what’s reasonable to request.

• Ask, and you just might receive. Every company has a set way of handling compensation, but that doesn’t mean you can’t ask what’s possible. And that goes for everything — raises, promotions, and feedback. “The harm is in being obnoxious, never asking, or not receiving the feedback that you need to learn and grow,” Floren says. And remember that compensation doesn’t just mean cash: Ask about flextime, vacation days, stock options or performance bonuses. “Do your best not to come across as demanding, but as someone who wants to be recognized for the fantastic contribution you want to make,” says Floren. And once you’ve started making that fantastic contribution, make sure someone’s paying attention by asking to be reviewed in six months or some other fixed, near-term time-frame. That feedback is the best way to keep the compensation conversation going.

• It’s all in the delivery. We hear it all the time: These kids all want to be CEO — tomorrow! And while it does sound like a somewhat unfair characterization, all those bosses couldn’t be completely wrong. “There’s a misconception among employers that Gen Yers have out-of-whack expectations,” Floren says. “But many times, what they’re asking for isn’t necessarily a huge raise or promotion, but that’s how they express it. And that’s perceived as impatience, as not valuing the learning process, and as devaluing all the people who’ve gone down this path already.” So before you get carried away telling your employer what you want, make sure that you’re giving them what they want, too. “Realize that your audience wants you to be successful, but they also want you to contribute, learn, not race through or overlook things, like the importance of those entry-level posts,” says Floren. “So go to the point of explicitly overemphasizing that you’re not trying to skip steps in the process or looking for a new job before getting the first one done. Show that you just want to do the best job possible and be leading the pack.”

• Talk, but not too much. Yers, says Floren, are known for their multitasking, but this can come across as flightiness in professional situations. Especially when we’re constantly talking about everything we’ve done, will do and want to do. Ever. “This can work against Yers because employers won’t consider them for opportunities that require focus and thoughtfulness,” Floren says. “Employers fear they won’t have the sticktoitiveness required to get the job done.” Instead, use your face-time with higher-ups to ask for guidance on how you can make more valuable contributions to the organization. Framed in those terms, your interests and the company’s seem aligned, which will encourage your superiors to look for opportunities for you, instead of opportunities to get rid of you.

• And remember, money isn’t everything. “Provided you can have a place to live and put food on the table, actual compensation would be at the bottom of my list for an entry-level position,” Floren says. “The things I’d look for at the beginning of a career are the growth opportunities, the training and skills you can acquire, the network you can build within the organization and with the customers you’re serving. The launching pad those will give you matter more than whether you’re making $30,000 or $60,000. It may seem like a 100 percent difference, but that 30k job in the long run could put you on a path that’s worth so much more than 30k a year.”

On the road again talking some Gen Y smack, but wanted to float a few things past you while I have a few minutes.

First, have been meaning to bring up the recent Ask Bing, “I’m worth more than $28K a year,” and get your thoughts. If you haven’t read it, a recent college grad in the throes of a challenging job search wrote in to lament his situation: “Everyone wants experience but no one is willing to give it to me. Not to be arrogant I just genuinely believe that I am worth more than $28,000 a year.” Of course, Bing gives him a talking to and ultimately advises finding a job “that, in a way, you might just do for free,” to make waiting for that big payoff easier.

And he’s right. No matter where you come from and what your expectations are, the realities of the job market don’t really allow for huge salaries and major titles right away. But this is a common area of contention, for both recruiters and recruits. (Bing echoes the refrain of many put-upon recruiters when he says, ” “I can’t tell you how many people I interview these days who, having just gotten out of school, want a vice president title and bag of cash just for showing up.”) While I tend to agree with Bing’s assessment, it’s clear from your own comments on posts like “Money v. meaningful work, the battle continues” that there’s a bit of disagreement on this point.

For me, though, taking the “passion” gig isn’t just about following your heart or any other such hippie-dippy swill; the fact is that if you take a job you love, you’re far more likely to rock it. And that experience will help you get that bigger, better-paying job faster than holding out for what you think you deserve (i.e., filling out endless applications only to have recruiters collapse with laughter at the sight of your salary requirements). My first job didn’t pay much more than that $28,000, but what I learned at that scrappy startup made me a lot more attractive to future employers, and before too long I was able to afford both a shoebox in New York City and dinner.

So when young people stress about their meager paychecks, I say think of that first job not as an insult, but as a chance to prove that you actually are worth more than $28,000; it’ll make your first employer value you — and encourage the second to pay you accordingly.

On another note, thanks to Gig reader Sarah W. for passing along Virginia Heffernan’s hi-larious New York Times story, “Sweeping the Clouds Away,” about the recent release of the earliest episodes of Sesame Street, volumes 1 and 2 of which apparently “may not suit the needs of today’s preschool child.” If people think we Yers were coddled, heaven help us when today’s preschool child gets old enough for work.

Cookie Monster doesn’t even do his Alistair Cookie bit anymore, mostly because of the pipe. I’m not sure I want to live in a world without Alistair Cookie. But then, I have a friend who won’t even say the word “die” around his child, because he thinks that knowing things die will be too disturbing for her. (We still haven’t told him that, when her fish died, she said not to tell, because talking about dying was too sad for him.)

Anyone who’s read pre-Disney fairy tales knows that kids have been handling hardships much worse than dead fish for centuries. And that’s helped them to grow up — to take responsibility and fend for themselves. In that light, a little adversity mightn’t be such a bad thing for today’s sheltered youngsters. Which is not, obviously, to say that they — we — are all sheltered, or that they haven’t suffered in their own ways. It’s simply to point out that children born into privilege would probably turn out to be better people if they saw some of the other side growing up, be it with an afterschool job, a volunteering stint, or some of those old school episodes of Sesame Street.

And, lastly, check out our latest Gen Y web video if you haven’t already. Hope you like it, and in the meantime, pray for me; I’m in a hotel with no wireless, and it’s murder. (Cue the “spoiled brat” commentary from Yadgyu ;o).

The continuation of Friday’s “My life as a first-year… Entrepreneur, Part I”:

Back to launching the business…

Armed with my great idea, I got to work. On the weekends and at night after work, I started to lay the groundwork. I did a lot of research to make sure that the need for this kind of service was there. It is. The entry-level job market is incredibly competitive. Many of the “hot” entry-level employers these days, including major corporations, government agencies, and even non-profits, hire less than 10% of applicants. That means that getting a job at the Department of State or at a major investment bank or consulting firm or at Teach for America is tougher than getting into Harvard or Williams. And liberal arts colleges aren’t doing much to help their graduates prepare for this competitive process: At Ivy League colleges, the average student to career-counselor ratio is over 1,000 to 1, and undergrad career-oriented clubs are rare.

I also worked on my business plan and budget. Since my goal is to grow this into a national company someday, I wanted to make sure that I built a solid strategic foundation. I came up with the name – no easy task — and I developed program materials. I even started marketing a little bit and working with some “pilot” clients to test the program. Pretty quickly, my focus shifted away from my responsibilities at my old job. Somehow the “direct costs task force” that I’d been selected to lead for my former employer didn’t seem as exciting as getting my new business off the ground, so, thanks to my ever-supportive husband, I got the green light to quit my old job and work on my new venture full time. In classic upbeat, entrepreneurial fashion, I remember assuring him that I’d be up and running in no time and easily generating the equivalent of my old paycheck in no more than a few months.

Not surprisingly, things didn’t move quite as quickly as I’d expected. And my costs weren’t quite as low as I’d expected. What I’d learned in Entrepreneurship class in business school is true. Building a business demands real investment of time and money, and getting to profitability takes a while! The first year was a learning experience and, in retrospect, a great opportunity to test the concept and my commitment to building a new company.

What was tough? Sticking with it, most of all. I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but about six months in, I went through a real crisis of confidence and started interviewing for a new job. Springboard had hit a trough in demand — my referral networks were still at their earliest stages, I had no name recognition, and I wasn’t investing anything in advertising at that point. On top of everything else, a very early stage offer to acquire Springboard had fizzled. The crazy thing was that as soon as I went in to the interviews I had scheduled and started telling the story about Springboard, I couldn’t remember why I wanted to walk away from it. I ended up pitching my business to the interviewers pretty well but doing a ghastly job of telling them why I wanted to work for their companies. I remember walking back to my (home) office after the last interview completely energized to get back to work and with a renewed sense of confidence in the concept and my ability to get it off the ground.

The home office situation was also tough. West Village apartments are generally small to begin with, but when you move a bunch of office equipment and supplies in and commit to being there all day, claustrophobia sets in pretty quickly. To make matters worse, there was a seemingly endless construction project going on on our block for the full 12 months I worked from the apartment. At one point, they must have been blasting the piping system underground because for several days the whole building would shake every once in a while. Scary. Also, living in your PJs/sweats can sound appealing at first, but I started to feel really disgusting when I didn’t have in-person meetings and an excuse to pull myself together.

Working completely independently wasn’t easy either. I found very quickly that I needed people to brainstorm with and run my ideas past. I owe my husband, my mother, my brother, and my friends a tremendous amount for putting up with my midday “I need your opinion” calls and e-mails.

Strangely enough, dealing with naysayers hasn’t been a problem. As much as I’m convinced by the validity of and need for our services, there are plenty of people who question the concept. I love responding to these people and defending the business. It’s really energizing!

Despite the challenges, the benefits to launching a business have been tremendous. Knowing that we’ve given valuable, actionable advice to our clients and that it’s worked is incredibly satisfying. It’s so energizing to hear from a client that she was better prepared for an interview than she ever was before or that an interviewer told one of our clients that he was “thoroughly impressed.” Recently, a client called me right after an interview and said, “It’s amazing, they asked me every single question we practiced!” Most rewarding, though, is hearing how excited a client is when he lands the position he wants.

We’re on a roll now, and it’s exciting to look at where Springboard is now versus even a year ago, let alone two. Still, that start-up anxiety is always there. It’s probably a good thing, though, since it keeps me working hard!

Today, an inside look at one entrepreneur’s road to success — in this case, as a career coach. Emily McLellan is the president and founder of Springboard Career Consultants, a company that helps undergrads and twentysomethings identify and realize their professional dreams. An alum of Morgan Stanley (MS) and McKinsey, Emily also spent considerable time in the for-profit education sector, with Kaplan and the Edison Schools — all excellent preparation for her new profession as a career guru for young people. So though this Xer isn’t a first-year corporate American, she is pretty close to a first-year entrepreneur, which is at least as exciting as climbing the corporate ladder. So let the schooling begin…

*****

Three years ago, I would have laughed if someone had suggested that I’d launch my own business. In fact, I remember agreeing when my brother told me that he thought I’d make a great “company [wo]man” — a lifer at an organization whose product and mission I supported and where I could rise through the ranks to a great job in senior management. I guess that where I am now isn’t that far off — I believe in the product we offer, and I have incredible senior management responsibilities. The only difference is that instead of rising through the ranks, I’m creating them.

My motivation for taking some risk and going out on my own came from my idea. It’s good — a lot better and more exciting to work on than anything I was responsible for before — and I quickly became obsessed with making the concept work. The idea, which I think will resonate with many of you, is to provide structured support and guidance to college students and recent graduates entering the job market — to give them the up-to-date, unbiased, and high-quality advice that they aren’t getting on campus or from their parents.

I certainly needed the kind of advice we offer when I was in college! Frankly, the only reason I got a job after graduation is that one of my roommates and closest friends who is probably the most organized and focused person I know took charge of the process for me during junior and senior year. She literally outfitted me, dragged me to those painful company information sessions, told me where to sign up for interviews, and drilled me on what to say during them. In retrospect, I probably should have named Springboard after her.

Still, even with this incredible force behind me, I was really naive in the job-search process. I remember going to one interview for a summer analyst role at an investment bank during my junior year. The interviewer asked me: “If you could have dinner with any two people in history, who would you choose?” I had no idea what to say and no understanding of how to be strategic with my answer, so I answered, “Hitler and the Pope.” Not the most PC answer. I guess I was trying to be provocative and (maybe) thoughtful, but I think I just managed to freak out the interviewer. Not surprisingly, I didn’t get the job.

It wasn’t until going to business school that I really learned how to approach the job search process strategically. People go to business school to get new jobs and advance their careers, so, naturally, learning how to land a job is a central part of the experience. And, unlike in college, job search resources and support were everywhere — built into the curriculum, offered through the career services office, provided by student organizations. And the concept of networking and mutual support was integrated into the social dynamic. Why did I ace my case interviews in business school when just three years before I’d botched one terribly? Because classmates and the on-campus consulting club helped me plan for them. Older students who’d been through the process before me gave me tips, I practiced with classmates going through the same process, and the student-run club provided all kinds of case-prep materials.

After receiving so much practical guidance in grad school, I’m still surprised that today, when a majority of college students want to get jobs right after graduation, this kind of support doesn’t exist on undergrad campuses. Why do so many college grads enter the workforce as naively as I did? My goal with Springboard is to fill that void and hopefully, over time, inspire liberal arts schools to do more to set their graduates up for successful transitions into the professional world.

Next week: The ups and downs of getting Springboard off the ground…

There are so many things I wanted to write about today, that in the interest of time and sanity, I thought we’d do a little round-up…

• Starting with the Bad Boss Contest by Working America, a community affiliate of the AFL-CIO. Among the semifinalists for best bad-boss story, a guy whose boss threw his paperwork in the trash when he was diagnosed with cancer and tried to file for his paid time off (the leading vote-getter), a woman who was victimized for taking a week off after a miscarriage, and my personal pick for worst, a waitress whose boss not only encouraged a customer who stalked her, but even hired the man as a busboy. Sure makes you appreciate the decent bosses you’ve had over the years. (As does Stanley Bing’s collection of crazy bosses and their employees’ crazy stories.) But I’ve been lucky enough to have some awesome bosses. In fact, my only bad experience was a few years back with an extremely passive-aggressive boss who would avoid one-on-one contact — including things like giving his young staff any guidance — at all costs, and then publicly dress down anyone and everyone for not doing things “right.” Clearly, I didn’t last long there, but I felt bad for him; he was coming up on 40 and still wearing a wallet chain and ripped rocker T-shirts to work, so it wasn’t hard to deduce that he had some identity issues to address, never mind a whole lot of anxiety about getting older. And I was pretty glad of the lesson in the long run. As my mom put it: Consider the source, and keep it moving.
• Speaking of getting older, though, check out Anne Fisher’s column, “From Ivy League to dead-end job,” and all the comments it’s already getting. One of Annie’s recent-grad readers wrote to ask her if, after three months of working in his “first ‘real’ job” doing routine work at a Fortune 500 company and feeling unfulfilled, it would be all right for him to make a move. Annie gave him good advice: Stick it out a while longer, do stellar work regardless, and explore opportunities in other departments. But some readers came down hard — on all that Gen Y entitlement, of course. And I see their point; three months is barely enough to learn people’s names, let alone land your dream project, and entry-level work is rarely stimulating every day. But I think this frustration is a twentysomething thing, not a Gen Y thing. In 1983, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the median job tenure for workers ages 25 to 34 was three years, and for those 20 to 24, it was 1.5 years. In 2006, median tenure for 25-to-34’s was 2.9 years, and for 20-to-24’s, it was 1.3 years. Not exactly a shocking drop-off. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to indicate a staggering decline in loyalty or work ethic. But maybe that’s just me…
• Elsewhere in the Fortune universe, Fortune Small Business ranks America’s best colleges for entrepreneurs, along with some cool extras, including 18 top professors and first-person accounts from nine “aspiring tycoons.”
• And in closing, a few health notes, because I care about you guys! (And yes, we’re better employees — and better people — when we take care of ourselves. Yada yada.) So from The Wall Street Journal, a look at health insurers targeting young people. And from The New York Times, a welcome proclamation — “That yawn at lunch is perfectly normal” — about handling the post-lunch energy dip, and my favorite, “Lobes of steel,” which for all my fellow science nerds, makes a case for the link between exercise and creating new neurons (i.e., being “brainy”).

And that’s all she wrote. (As if it weren’t that much! ;o) Have your own boss stories? Want to weigh in on Ask Annie readers’ anti-Gen Y sentiments? Worried that your lobes might be more slush than steel? Check out the sites, or post your thoughts here. Have a good one!

After a week on the road doing my civic duty — that is, recruiting at the National Association of Black Journalists convention — I have to say I missed you guys! (But don’t be sad for me; sure it was hectic, but it was also in Las Vegas, which even at 105 degrees, is at least as fun as the office ;o). And while I did have a good time chatting with young journalists at the Time Inc. booth, the hilarity that transpired there also provided good fodder for us. So for those of you heading to a job fair — or even into an interview — sometime soon, a few notes from my own recruiting experience…

• Calm down. We know you’re hyped, but not everyone wears this state of heightened agitation well. Case in point: A young man sat down to speak with a very senior (and exceedingly sweet) gentleman from one of our biggest titles — and basically proceeded to yell for 15 minutes. Not at my colleague exactly, but about the industry, the wrongs he’d suffered, what he would and would not do now as a result, and various other topics that made him seem just a tad antagonistic (if not downright crazy). This might help you stand out, but it’s probably not your best strategy for getting a gig. And incidentally, neither is the opposite — being so excited and/or obsequious that you sound like Clueless on fast-forward. So as Dr. Phil might say, take a good honest look at yourself, and if you tend toward any behavior that might frighten or otherwise arouse undesirable emotions in your recruiters, do whatever it takes to stem it. Seriously — do yoga, burn incense, listen to Enya, whatever — just do it, and save us and yourself.
• Templates are not the final answer. If I have to read, “This letter is to express my interest in blah, blahblah, blah, blah,” one more time, I may throw myself out a window. (Or to use one of my favorite words, defenestrate myself.) Unless you’re applying for a job as the most boring person ever, don’t succumb. Just about every cover letter your recruiter reads will start with some variation of this sentence, which means you’ve lost a key opportunity to distinguish yourself. Of course, this is not to say that you ought to substitute stream of consciousness either — clarity is still king in these exercises — but surely we bright young people can find one or two clear and creative ways to catch a recruiter’s eye. (For example, give your letter a head with the job title/ID and where it was listed, so that you can spend the first paragraph talking about why you’re perfect for the job instead of how you found it on Monster.) And while, with resumes, it isn’t as important to be creative in the traditional sense — colored paper and overwrought fonts will probably hurt more than help — it is crucial to make sense. If you haven’t had any real jobs, for instance, it might not be prudent to title your main section, “Work Experience,” a move more likely to draw attention to your lack of actual experience than to underscore how all the other great things you’ve done might help you succeed in a future job. Templates are great, especially if you’re just starting out, but they’re only a jumping-off point, so take the time to think about how to best express your unique experience and abilities.
• And other people’s advice can be pretty bad, too. With networks like most of us have — parents, professors, coaches, college friends — advice comes easy. Some of it is great, and it’s important to listen to people who’ve already been where you’re trying to go, but do some independent thinking, too. One eager journalism student stopped by to talk to me and was surprised when took her resume and cover letter out of the letter-sized envelope she’d provided to file them. She’d been told that putting them in an envelope was the only way to keep them from getting lost once she handed them over. But given the file cabinet-style storage system favored by most of the recruiters, it turned out to be just about the only way to insure that they did get lost — dwarfed by all the looseleaf pages and in danger of slipping through to obscurity at the bottom of the box. Don’t get too caught up in trying to follow every “rule” of the process (by now a Gen Y refrain ); if it sounds wrong, it often is.
• For the questions you can anticipate, try to have an answer. Chances are, if you’re at a job fair, someone is going to ask you what you want to do. “Anything” is not the right response. It may be true, but it doesn’t really help a recruiter figure out where to put you — other than in the trash. So think about some potential job functions, and be ready to talk about your ideal position. That said…
• Sure, you want to be CEO, but not right now. Since it’s highly unlikely that anyone’s recruiting for CEO, it’s probably best to keep that one to yourself for now. Everyone has goals, and if a recruiter asks you where you’d like to be in 20 years, by all means share. But short of that, it’s a little off-putting when someone who hasn’t even graduated from school starts a conversation by saying they want to be in charge. That’s only cute when you’re five. And while most people at our stage of life aspire to some sort of moguldom — and some will no doubt realize those dreams — at 22, it’s pretty special just to have a good, paying job in your field where you’re actually learning something. So concentrate on that for the time being, and let the top spot come to you.
• Don’t hit on recruiters. I’d have thought this one would be obvious, but I’d be wrong. True, some recruiting environments, Vegas among them, lend themselves to a certain abandon. But even if I give a free pass to the countless people I met job-searching by day and later saw otherwise engaged by night, there would still be the many who seemed to be shamelessly relying on their good looks and flirtatious nature to score a call back. It could be subconscious — cute people get a lot of positive feedback this way, after all — but if you catch yourself batting your eyelashes or smirking devilishly at your recruiter, cease and desist immediately. We like charming. We don’t like sexual harassment. Save all that romancing for people who you don’t want to hire you.

For July’s “Burning Question,” I thought we’d take a look at something that countless among you — from the 16’s to the 26’s, the artists to the accountants — have brought up: parents. You’ve read the stories, pieces with such encouraging titles as, “‘Helicopter’ parents hover when kids job hunt,” and, “Do ‘helicopter moms’ do more harm than good?” There’s even a Wikipedia entry for this new phenomenon.

But jokes aside, as anyone who read this recent New York Times story — about parents extending and overextending themselves to fund their adult children’s lives — can attest, they do it because they love. And that makes it a bit difficult for anyone — child, recruiter, or reporter — to dismiss them altogether. So if you can’t just say, “Mom and Dad, get a life,” what exactly can you do to keep your parents happy and your dignity intact?

To get some perspective, I turned to Dan Black, Ernst & Young’s Americas director of campus recruiting. Why Black? Aside from working with hundreds of Gen Yers and having young children himself, he’s also dealt with his fair share of parents. So with his expertise and my own first-hand experience, we put together a little five-step plan to recovering from that widespread Gen Y affliction, excessive parental involvement. (And before we go any further, let me just say that, obviously, this doesn’t apply to every parent or even to every Gen Yer, as many of us didn’t have parents who could be this involved. But we’re talking about the other set here, the ones who get maligned by the Wall Street Journal and whatnot.)

Step 1. Acknowledge the problem.
Some people will tell you that parents have always loved their kids, and while that’s true, there’s some pretty good anecdotal evidence that it’s gone a bit beyond that. Take the story Black told me when we first met while I was reporting our Gen Y story, which had a long section on parents, too.

Last summer, at E&Y’s intern conference, which brings about 2,000 interns together, someone called looking for the person in charge. “I pick up the phone and it’s an older gentleman who says, ‘Yes, I’m so-and-so’s dad. Who’s this’?” Black says, laughing as he pantomimes looking at a phone in confusion.

Turns out it was a concerned father whose daughter had failed to call the night before. Mom entered the fray, too, and though Black gave them every assurance that the company tracked all the interns — this was only day two of the four-day conference, and little so-and-so was probably in a seminar or team-building event somewhere — he eventually set out to find the girl. “You can only imagine the face on this poor young woman when I pulled her out of her activity and said, ‘Your parents called and they need you to call them back. They’re just worried about you.’ She was mortified.”

That might sound extreme, but I bet in a similar situation, it probably wouldn’t have taken my own mom long to give Black a ring. And even in circumstances less dire, Black says he hears from lots of parents who want to know what their recent grads should be doing to apply to E&Y — and even what colleges their high-schoolers should be considering so that they’ll one day be considered by E&Y.

It may be loving, but it’s not normal — or okay.

Step 2. Recognize your own complicity.
Ask yourself, why do parents do this? It isn’t as if they don’t have other things to do. And having already invested so much time, energy, and of course, money in bringing their children up, one might expect them to take a step back happily. But it’s precisely because they’ve spent hundreds of thousands of dollars, 18+ years, and every last nerve to raise us that they are concerned.

But what have you done to help alleviate the situation? Whether you’re the sort of kid who cringes at your parents’ meddling, or the sort who only pretends to cringe while secretly welcoming the meddling, you are absolutely to blame for their behavior.

Have you kept them in the proverbial loop about your job search activities? Do they have any reason to believe, based upon the evidence you’ve given them, that you’re even doing any job-searching? “I could’ve told my parents till the cows came home, ‘Don’t worry, I’m on the job hunt’,” Black says, “but they didn’t know what that meant until I came and showed them my resume and talked about the career fairs I’d attended. That’s what put them at ease.”

And if you have involved them, but to the point where you’re dependent upon them, that’s no good either. “I remember I was going through a resume with a student once,” Black says, “and I told him this looks really great. And he said, ‘Well, my mom put it together for me’.” Taking advantage of your parents’ goodwill and worry for you doesn’t help them trust you, and it certainly doesn’t help you learn how to navigate this process yourself — or win you any fans in recruiting.

Step 3. Talk to your parents.
Once it’s clear that Mom and Dad are too involved, whatever the reason, you’ve got to talk them out of it. Many of us don’t want to have this conversation, but Black points out that it’s not unlike those days in middle school when your parents would drive you to a friend’s house, and you’d request a dropoff a few blocks away. That’s pretty much when it stopped being cool to have your parents doing everything for you.

So sit down with your parents and have the discussion up front. Show them the evidence that you can — and already are — doing this on your own. A lot of the time, they’re just worried that you’re too busy to be searching effectively, so letting them know that you already are goes a long way.

And tell them how much involvement is appropriate. “There’s no shortage of information about parents getting involved and how that can be perceived in the workforce,” Black says, “so making a parent aware that that this could be negative despite their intentions can make a difference.” When Black gets calls from parents, he says he offers counsel, but also points out that another recruiter might not look upon this sort of call as kindly. “Many parents are surprised: ‘I’m just trying to help,’ ‘I thought it’d be great to show the child is from good stock, with a caring family,’ ‘I want to make sure they do well’,” he says. “And I have to tell them that’s true, but we’d really rather see that motivation on the child’s part, because we’re working with the child.”

But Black shouldn’t be having that conversation with your parents. You should. It all amounts to a promise that they’ll get a great return on their investment — in you — without having to do all the work themselves. And they deserve that; they’ve done enough already.

Step 4. Keep talking to your parents.
With some parameters established, parents can be a wonderful resource. They’ve lived a long time, and many have experience in the corporate world, so talking through the job search process with them — about issues like deciding which career is right for you — can be extremely beneficial.

Be proactive about sharing information with them — E&Y, for instance, has a “Parent Pack” of information that’s for candidates, but packaged to share with parents — and let them give you feedback. As long as you make the big calls. As Black puts it, “Take the advice you need, and leave the rest. Ultimately, it’s your life and your career, so you need to make the decisions.”

Step 5. Remember this when you become a parent.
This shift in parenting has been happening over the course of many years, and if we were coddled, well, just imagine how much coddling we’re likely to do with our own kids. So remember all this hoopla when you’re considering doing your eight-year-old’s science project for him.

For Alexandra Levit, helping twentysomethings navigate the corporate world is a way of life. I first spoke with the author of 2004’s They Don’t Teach Corporate in College: A Twenty-Something’s Guide to the Business World after she heard about our Gen Y story and reached out to me. Since then, we’ve had the opportunity to reflect a bit on her experience as a career consultant — she’s the founder and president of Inspiration @Work, lectures regularly on workplace issues, and also somehow manages to be a VP at Edelman.

A self-described “highly ambitious straight-’A’ student determined to make it to the top,” Levit says she had a rude awakening upon realizing, after graduating from Northwestern in 1998, that the strategies she’d used to succeed all her life weren’t going to get the immediate results she craved in the “real” world. So after some suffering, she started writing about it. Now, through her books and her career advice blog, Water Cooler Wisdom, she shares some of her hard-earned corporate wisdom with those just starting out. Today, a sample just for us…

FIVE ESSENTIAL STEPS TO A PAINLESS JOB SEARCH

Whether you’re just graduating from school or a little further along in your career, searching for employment in the business world is more challenging than any assignment you’ll be given on the job. Not only do you have to decide exactly what to look for, but you also have to find a way in the door and make that doorstop hold until you have an offer in hand. Feeling overwhelmed? Here are some steps to simplify the process.

• Learn about thyself. Take time to do a self-assessment of your values, how you like to work, and what you’d be compelled to do even if you never got paid. Then list your skills (or the stuff you do better than most of your friends) and create a personal mission statement. In one job that I thought had nothing for me, it wasn’t until I thought about how much I loved creative competitions like The Apprentice that I realized I didn’t necessarily have to go to a new company; I just had to look for a position at my marketing agency that allowed me to pitch new businesses. Having a rough map of the goals you need to achieve helps you get your career going in the right direction.
• Gather information. Research careers and industries that make sense for your skills, personal mission, and geographic preferences. Hit the library and the Web, set up informational interviews, take relevant coursework, and arrange to go onsite at a company or companies in your chosen field. That last part is crucial: A friend of mine was convinced she wanted to be a teacher right up until she spent a few days in a local middle school. After a 24-hour headache, she thanked her lucky stars that she hadn’t wasted time and resources getting a master’s degree in education only to find out that the career wasn’t for her.
• Scope the field. Be proactive and creative instead of relying on advertised job openings. Do your homework and network to learn about the well-respected firms in your industry. And make direct contact with employees at the firms you’d like to work for. When I moved out to Eastern Long Island, I was looking at a three-hour commute to and from my job in Manhattan, which clearly wasn’t ideal. But there weren’t any marketing firms in my new location, so instead I looked for Fortune 500 companies there that did their marketing communications in-house. There were only a few, but I made direct contact with the people whose names were listed on the company press releases and had two job offers before I even moved.
• Prepare your materials. Develop an irresistible resume by tailoring a document for each field you’re pursuing, listing titles that accurately reflect your job descriptions, showcasing ownership of projects, and using a functional format if you don’t have a lot of experience. If any of your experience can be highlighted visually, create a professional portfolio to take along on interviews. One of my favorite stories involves a college student who wanted to get an extremely competitive internship, but had no real business experience to speak of. He told me that he worked at Baskin Robbins but didn’t want to put the fact that he “sold ice cream” on his resume. So we brainstormed and figured out that he’d done much more than that; he’d actually helped the owner design and distribute a coupon that increased store traffic by 20%. This little tidbit of experience was a resume gem because it demonstrated a major tangible contribution to his employer’s bottom-line, something any recruiter can appreciate.
• Meet and greet. Before going on an interview, do enough research so that you know what to expect and can speak intelligently on the points related to your job function. Line up airtight references and research salary information in advance. When you’re in front of the employer, speak confidently, don’t divulge negative or personal information, and listen to see if the job is a good fit for you. A colleague of mine knew enough to turn down a “perfect” job because she’d taken the time to observe the culture of the organization and realized that the people currently in her potential position weren’t happy and growing. She knew that she would be a square peg in a round hole there, and instead of wedging herself in despite the signs, she moved onto the next opportunity and found something far better.

For Alexandra Levit, helping twentysomethings navigate the corporate world is a way of life. I first spoke with the author of 2004’s They Don’t Teach Corporate in College: A Twenty-Something’s Guide to the Business World after she heard about our Gen Y story and reached out to me. Since then, we’ve had the opportunity to reflect a bit on her experience as a career consultant — she’s the founder and president of Inspiration @Work, lectures regularly on workplace issues, and also somehow manages to be a VP at Edelman.

A self-described “highly ambitious straight-’A’ student determined to make it to the top,” Levit says she had a rude awakening upon realizing, after graduating from Northwestern in 1998, that the strategies she’d used to succeed all her life weren’t going to get the immediate results she craved in the “real” world. So after some suffering, she started writing about it. Now, through her books and her career advice blog, Water Cooler Wisdom, she shares some of her hard-earned corporate wisdom with those just starting out. Today, a sample just for us…

FIVE ESSENTIAL STEPS TO A PAINLESS JOB SEARCH

Whether you’re just graduating from school or a little further along in your career, searching for employment in the business world is more challenging than any assignment you’ll be given on the job. Not only do you have to decide exactly what to look for, but you also have to find a way in the door and make that doorstop hold until you have an offer in hand. Feeling overwhelmed? Here are some steps to simplify the process.

• Learn about thyself. Take time to do a self-assessment of your values, how you like to work, and what you’d be compelled to do even if you never got paid. Then list your skills (or the stuff you do better than most of your friends) and create a personal mission statement. In one job that I thought had nothing for me, it wasn’t until I thought about how much I loved creative competitions like The Apprentice that I realized I didn’t necessarily have to go to a new company; I just had to look for a position at my marketing agency that allowed me to pitch new businesses. Having a rough map of the goals you need to achieve helps you get your career going in the right direction.
• Gather information. Research careers and industries that make sense for your skills, personal mission, and geographic preferences. Hit the library and the Web, set up informational interviews, take relevant coursework, and arrange to go onsite at a company or companies in your chosen field. That last part is crucial: A friend of mine was convinced she wanted to be a teacher right up until she spent a few days in a local middle school. After a 24-hour headache, she thanked her lucky stars that she hadn’t wasted time and resources getting a master’s degree in education only to find out that the career wasn’t for her.
• Scope the field. Be proactive and creative instead of relying on advertised job openings. Do your homework and network to learn about the well-respected firms in your industry. And make direct contact with employees at the firms you’d like to work for. When I moved out to Eastern Long Island, I was looking at a three-hour commute to and from my job in Manhattan, which clearly wasn’t ideal. But there weren’t any marketing firms in my new location, so instead I looked for Fortune 500 companies there that did their marketing communications in-house. There were only a few, but I made direct contact with the people whose names were listed on the company press releases and had two job offers before I even moved.
• Prepare your materials. Develop an irresistible resume by tailoring a document for each field you’re pursuing, listing titles that accurately reflect your job descriptions, showcasing ownership of projects, and using a functional format if you don’t have a lot of experience. If any of your experience can be highlighted visually, create a professional portfolio to take along on interviews. One of my favorite stories involves a college student who wanted to get an extremely competitive internship, but had no real business experience to speak of. He told me that he worked at Baskin Robbins but didn’t want to put the fact that he “sold ice cream” on his resume. So we brainstormed and figured out that he’d done much more than that; he’d actually helped the owner design and distribute a coupon that increased store traffic by 20%. This little tidbit of experience was a resume gem because it demonstrated a major tangible contribution to his employer’s bottom-line, something any recruiter can appreciate.
• Meet and greet. Before going on an interview, do enough research so that you know what to expect and can speak intelligently on the points related to your job function. Line up airtight references and research salary information in advance. When you’re in front of the employer, speak confidently, don’t divulge negative or personal information, and listen to see if the job is a good fit for you. A colleague of mine knew enough to turn down a “perfect” job because she’d taken the time to observe the culture of the organization and realized that the people currently in her potential position weren’t happy and growing. She knew that she would be a square peg in a round hole there, and instead of wedging herself in despite the signs, she moved onto the next opportunity and found something far better.