Humor

This story was published in 2007 for FastWeb, an online education resource and scholarship search engine.

Jim Davis, creator of the Garfield comic strip, once wrote, “I could wallpaper a room with my rejection slips.” From an interior-design standpoint, not such a great idea. In terms of maintaining an optimistic viewpoint, also not the best plan. Yet, I think Jim’s on to something.

There are always going to be times when things are … stacked against the punter. (The punter being you.) You can’t always get the gig, the job, the girl (or boy). What’s to be done? Embrace disappointment as a part of life, just the way successes are. Right now, students are applying to and hearing from colleges and graduate schools; it’s the time when seniors interview for jobs. My own collegiate stress was weighing me down, so my resolution this year was to be ok with disappointment. This column describes my quest to figure out how.

I’m not exactly swimming in a sea of condolences when something goes awry. This has become particularly pronounced in my time at the University of Virginia. The atmosphere here is one of stifling successes. When people do poorly, their failure is locked in the closet and the key swallowed – gulp – before the world hears about it. I wonder, in a world of winners, are those who succeed the real losers? Why do we focus on self-help more than self-health? What should you do when something doesn’t go your way?

I studied greeting cards. If you ever need a query answered (What’s the meaning of life? Will Troy Polamalu ever cut his hair? Is it true that humans share more genetic code with sea urchins than dogs?), locate your nearest Hallmark store. Greeting cards synthesize everything the average American wants to say into three-line quips, some with sound. There wasn’t much solace in condolence, however. One rose-covered fold-out drooled, “Sorry for your loss.” Generic, geriatric communiqués wouldn’t help me get over a disappointment.

Still not having an all-purpose answer, I did something rash. I asked myself. “Self,” I said, “What do you do when you’re disappointed about something?” My first thought was of a cheesy mantra written on my high-school math teacher’s wall. It asked which angle was the most successful, and the answer was the “try-angle.” After discarding that as utterly useless, I thought of my mother’s catch phrase: Rise above it. This too, failed me. There’s something about the brusqueness, the aggression of that mandate that doesn’t make me feel better. (It’s more salvo than salve.) So I went deeper into my memory, trying to locate the spark that keeps me going when I’ve been disappointed.

There isn’t a spark. There’s a brushing off of the hands, a readjusting of the glasses and then I just keep going. That’s all. And I think that’s all anybody does. You can’t let a disappointment end your goals. (Any good sports movie will tell you that.) Furthermore, since American culture supports the view that your worth is dictated by your success – a problem, since everyone can’t succeed all of the time – it’s hard to remember that failure is healthy. You don’t have to bounce back immediately, either. Kate Hudson lost her baby weight an unprecedented three minutes after giving birth and look what happened to her! Bad example. The point is, it’s ok to not succeed. It’s going to happen whether you like it or not, so keep your chin up and don’t let failure make you quit. Keep going because it’s the only thing to do. That, and change the wallpaper.

This story was published in 2007 for FastWeb, an online education resource and scholarship search engine.

I love the term “common courtesy,” particularly because we use the phrase when we want to note there’s been a lack of it. Nobody mentions common courtesy when it’s there; they lament its absence and from the number of times we use the phrase, it seems courtesy is actually rather elusive. Rules of etiquette can be daunting, particularly for those unaccustomed to reading the syndicated “Miss Manners” column (unlike me and everyone’s grandparents). In fact, I suggest you examine your own life and habits to be sure you aren’t offending any passersby when you pass the salt before the pepper.

There are an equal number of rules when it comes to applying for jobs. The only time I hear these rules talked about, however, is when fellow undergraduates poll each other to see what’s expected. It’s the rude leading the rude. I don’t have the 20 years experience to match Miss Manners’, but I do have Appalachian charm and a great record with old men and cats, which makes me well-qualified to talk about formal politeness.

The consensus on thank-you notes firmly says one should send a letter post-interview, pre-hire. After your interview, whether it’s on the phone or in person, jot down a quick thank you. This sounds daunting: What do you really have to say to that person when you’ve only known them for an hour? It also seems cheesy and a little… suck up-ish. Don’t think like that. Just show your appreciation that the interviewer took the time to speak to you and hear your thoughts. Try to insert something from the conversation that they’ll remember, maybe a shared interest you discussed. Be sure to write cleanly, but do not type the letter. Make it personal and snappy.

When being interviewed on the phone, go where it’s secluded and indoors. (The talking-in-a-wind-tunnel effect can happen even if it doesn’t seem breezy on your end.) Don’t mumble if you’re nervous or screech if you’re accepted. It may be a fabulous job, but nobody wants to be the kid who blew the boss’ eardrums when they got hired.

For all other things, be as conservative as you can. Dress nicely and neatly; be on time and cheerful. It’s also important to Google the person who you’ll speak to: See their history and give yourself some talking points.

After advising you to be conservative, I’m going to do the opposite. I’d like to remind those employers who might be reading that they also have an obligation. This year, as I applied for graduate schools and summer internships, I was appalled at how rudely business was conducted. Graduate schools were late on their deadlines to announce acceptances. One school pushed the deadline back three times, missed it by two days on their last attempt, sent my letter to the wrong address, and failed entirely to send the email they promised was coming after that. Summer internships say that due to the number of applicants, they are unable to contact people not selected. They are apparently also unable to give applicants a time frame to let them know when they should be taking no news to mean bad news. How long does it take to send a form email?

We, as applicants, are willing to do almost anything to get these gigs. We want to give them our unpaid summer labor, we want to fork over enormous amounts of cash for tuition, we want to move to cities where we don’t know anyone.

The least we can ask in return is a little common courtesy.