Monday, November 24, 2008

I'm an adult...but forever a kid in my hometown

I’m adult, I have a grown up job, a grown up apartment, and “big girl” bills to prove it.

Everyone once in a while I have to remind myself of that because of run-ins like the one I had this weekend.

I was visiting my parents in the town I grew up in on Sunday. I had planned to run some local errands, get my nails done, and make dinner for the folks. All very grown up stuff.

Ahem…anyway.

I walked in to the nail salon and saw one of my 6th grade teachers. Ms. McLaughlin. I immediately became 11 years old. I smoothed down my unruly hair, took my hands out of my pockets, stood up straight, and timidly asked one of the workers for a manicure.

I took my seat, every once in a while sneaking a glance at Mc. McLaughlin. Did she see me? Wait, she smiled?, oh, eyes front.

I pretended to act like a “big girl” and made a conscious effort to not swing my legs in the chair.

(gasp) Here’s my chance! She was getting up to leave and had to walk by me.

Apparently I was just creepy enough throughout the last half hour by looking over at her, waiting for her to recognize me, that she stopped by my chair.

In a tiny voice I said, “Ms. McLaughlin?” (You never know, she could be divorced by now) “I was your student at Story Elementary.”

“Hi,” she said in a teacher sweet voice. “Remind me of your name?”

“M-M-Mary Beth Knight.”

She swore she remembered, asked how old I was now, made a comment about her own age, asked what college I went to and where I was living/working. I think I managed to stutter something about working close to downtown in Human Resources. She told me to pass along her greeting to my folks.

“Yes ma’am,” I nodded as if I were sent home with a note from the teacher.

Seriously? Ugh.

I wanted to chase after her and tell her, “I’m an adult! I have a grown up job! A grown up apartment!”

But instead I sat in the nail salon chair, feet swinging, smiling big because she remembered me.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Open letter to a young HR professional

Get out. Get out now.

Get out of the HR world for a while. Go run a function, manage a line, balance a P&L.

Got your degree in HR? Then you really need to go.

Getting an HR degree? Think about changing your major. Non-HR degrees enter HR all the time. Very few HR degrees go elsewhere. And take some statistics classes while you’re at it. They are more important for the future of HR than you might think.

Don’t be a career HR drone. Go see the world. Deal with the issues first hand. Understand business, leadership, employee problems, and what happens when people don’t play nicely with each other.

Then come back. We’ll need you.
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I wish I could take credit, but a networking buddy posted this and I really like it. For those of you who know me, this absolutely describes my career path.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Today I voted...and I have the sticker to prove it

I'm one of the voters the news warns about. I didn't know for certain who I wanted to vote for until the night before. I was sick of the whole mess. Media coverage, campaigning for funds, scandals, name calling, etc.

How to choose? Flip a coin? Throw a piece of red gum and blue gum against a wall and see which one sticks?

No, like a good American, I did my research on the issues that were important to me. I'd say the War in Iraq is an issue for me, but was surprisingly not something that tipped the scales. I focused on the issues that I could wrap my head around - immigration, gun control, taxes, economic stimulus, the environment, etc.

Polling opens at 7am (and I'm insane) so I decided to get there at 6:30 to beat the crowds. Boy was I ever glad I did! As I walked up to the line of about 12 that had already formed, I had 5-10 people on my heels. By 7am, the line was wrapped around the building. Yet once inside, they were so organized it took 15 minutes. Amazing! Just 45 minutes total to cast my vote in this big mess.

So all in all, I feel good about my choice. I feel even better that I exercised my right to vote...

...and got a sticker on the way out. That's really what it's all about.