Jack and Suzy Welch POINT GRADS TO ‘AREA OF DESTINY’
Free advice on how to set your child up for a fulfilling future after college
Congratulations! Or perhaps we should say, “Congratulations*” — with a footnote reading: “This salutation is reserved for parents whose children majored in engineering, computer science or finance at a top-tier school. All others, please join us in a primal scream.”
Because, hello, it’s hard to get a good job out there. The economy is just not growing fast enough to absorb 1.8 million newbies a year, with the noted exceptions.
As a result, the vast majority of graduates — 73% by some estimates — end up in jobs not in their areas of study, many at or close to minimum wage. What’s worse, a whole slew ends up living back in the room you were hoping to turn into a home gym.
We feel your pain. Our son is graduating from a great school, and he’s a terrific kid, but the market for music majors isn’t exactly sizzling.
GOT A JOB FOR A POET?
Another of our kids, class of 2012, majored in poetry. Yes, poetry.
And you know what? It’s not the end of the world. Because as a parent, you can — and we suggest you should — take three steps to help your graduate get a job that makes Commencement Day the real beginning it should be.
First, don’t talk to your kid about jobs or industries without also talking seriously about “Area of Destiny.” Have you ever known people who have blown up their career at age 40 or 50 to do something totally different? Ever notice how much happier they seem?
Area of Destiny is all about getting to that place long before a midlife crisis sets in. It’s a simple but powerful construct that posits career satisfaction and success occur when you work at the intersection of two “super highways”: one is what you’re uniquely good at, and the other is what you love doing. Thus it was that our poetry major, who was always adept at picking Oscar winners, and who loved nothing more than watching TV, landed in Hollywood in the casting business, where she is thriving.
Now, there’s no guarantee that an Area of Destiny job will be easy to find, or pay that much, but you’re gently shoving your children in the right direction when it’s toward a future that matches not just their major, but also their strengths and passions.
Second, make sure your kid understands that a job interview is not like a college test; it requires umpteen times more prep- aration. As important, your son and daughter need to know that a job interview is not about what they already know. It’s about doing the research to prove they understand the company and the industry they’re trying to enter, and what, given their measly experience, they can do to help their employer win.
PREPARE FOR INTERVIEW
Not long ago, friends of ours got very excited when their daughter landed an interview in the human resources department of a wellknown company. She was about to graduate from a good state university with a business major, and she spent an hour or two boning up on the best way to describe her résumé highlights.
On the appointed day, after the usual niceties, the interviewer looked our friends’ daughter square in the eye and asked, “What’s our stock price today?” And that was that. Your job as a parent is to jump in front of that oncoming train, with pre-interview hollering that includes, “Google your brains out! Know everything there is to know. This isn’t a test. It’s real life!” No college professor will do that for you.
Finally, let your kid know that eventually, you’re going to back off, but not until you can. If you’re like us, the past few years of parenting your soon-to-be graduate have been a bit of a cakewalk. Your kid’s been out of sight, doing what he or she is supposed to be doing, becoming an adult.
The job search upends that. Suddenly, you’re all up in John’s or Mary’s face again, and they don’t particularly love it. And frankly, neither do you. It’s like middle school all over: a drama every day.
Face right into that paradox with your children — the fact that they’re supposed to be all grown up but that they need you more than ever. It won’t last, and resistance will only make it harder.
Together, though, you’ll all make it through, and with a job in hand, you can take a collective sigh. Until the next crisis pops, that is, and you know it will. “Mom, Dad, my boss said he wants to see me.”
After all, you may be the parent of the class of 2015, but you’ll also be a parent forever.