Employers & Hiring ManagersThe Unemployment Line

Mystery Employers and Elusive Hiring Managers

“May I, please, have the name of the hiring manager?”

“Uh … You’ll be contacted if the hiring manager is interested.” What kind of an answer is that? One would think I was trying to infiltrate the tightest-held secrets of the CIA.

How is a job-hunter supposed to personalize a cover letter and properly follow up without having the name of the hiring manager for the position for which he or she is applying? I hate submitting a resume to “Dear Hiring Manager,” but sometimes I have no choice. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve done that on some occasions, not because I couldn’t obtain the person’s name but because I was just fed up with the game.

Job sites, such as Monster and CareerBuilder, may seem to be a godsend with their abundance of information for job-seekers. But they also make anonymity entirely too easy for the advertisers, employers who can be reached only through a resume submitted via the site.

I don’t want to work for just any company. I want to know I’m applying to an organization that shares my philosophies and beliefs — one that has a good reputation. I like to do my homework, not only before an interview, but also before I even consider joining a company.

Nowadays, many companies have their own “careers” sections on their Web sites, including a list of job opportunities, information about benefits and an online application process. And many large companies even offer a searchable database of open positions or, in some cases, “search agents” to keep job-hunters informed when a job is posted that matches his or her profile. I can think of seven search agents I have in place: with four large organizations, the two job sites I’ve mentioned, and a professional society.

But some companies make their job postings difficult to find. I’ve discovered when there’s not an obvious tab or link to explore careers, I need to check the small print.

One entity, whose site I visit occasionally, has “Jobs at ‘Company X’” in itty-bitty 7.5-point type at the end of several lines of small print at the very bottom of its home page. And when I click on it, I’m taken to a page that includes a rather cold message:

“Resumes will only be accepted for specific job openings and only through our Web site … Any resumes submitted through any other means will not be evaluated.”

How am I supposed to be a pro-active job-hunter? I find myself wondering whether I should just pretend I wasn’t smart enough to find the elusive message and then submit a resume the old-fashioned way.

Instead, I choose to honor my prospective employers’ requests. If they say, “No phone calls, please,” then I don’t call. And if they state that they do not accept unsolicited resumes, then I don’t send one.

Persistent phone calls are what made one employer hire me, and I worked for his company for seven years. Maybe I’ve lost some of my gumption, but for me, the integrity I’ve gained is so much greater.

by Cynthia Baxter

A Wild Series of InterviewsThe Unemployment Line

The circumstances leading to my last hiring were quite interesting...

I had responded to an ad that said little more than “Association management professional,” along with confidential contact information. I’m normally skittish about vague postings, but somehow that one intrigued me.

Within a week, I received a call from the company president, just as my family was heading out the door for a weekend in St. Louis. So she called me on my cell, and we had our initial conversation as I headed westward with my family listening intently.

My soon-to-become employer said we’d have to wait two weeks for her to return from her winter home in Florida before we could meet. Coincidentally, my daughters and I planned to visit my in-laws near Tampa the following week. When she told me she had a condo in nearby St. Petersburg, we decided to meet on “The Pier,” of all places.

My interview went well, though I recall at one point being completely freaked when I realized I had zoned out while she was talking. I had just noticed how much my interviewer looked like my sister. Somehow, I covered my flub and managed to respond appropriately.

Perhaps it was the magic of my surroundings — few things compare to the feeling of an ocean breeze on my face — but I prefer to think it was my professional demeanor and obvious business savvy that did the trick. I passed the test.

Next was a conference call between the snowbird, me and the man who would be my immediate supervisor. He worked from his home in Montana.

I really wanted that job. But, to be honest, I was also at a point where I just needed a job — any job. Soon after, I received an offer to be a management-trainee for a reputable jewelry store. There is only one type of retail job I would ever consider, and that was it.

Since my heart was set on the other position, I delayed giving my reply. When I felt I could wait no longer, I called to accept the store manager’s offer. At the time, I sat in my mini-van preparing to attend a school meeting. The next thing I knew, I was bawling like a baby. I went into the meeting once I had regained my composure.

Two hours later, at 9 p.m., the snowbird, who had returned to Indianapolis, called to offer me the job. I met with her the next day to receive the formal offer. Then, feeling like a complete dirtbag, I called the jewelry store manager and revoked my acceptance.

The next four years were wonderful. I used my masterful marketing-communications skills in a professional-yet-laidback environment. But like many good organizations nowadays, the one I served fell victim to the ruthless economy. That was one incredibly long year ago.

by Cynthia Baxter

From one job to the nextThe Unemployment Line

“We’d like you to submit your resignation”

Ever heard that one? Talk about a blow to one’s ego.

A former coworker had recommended me for a position with a trade association, and I jumped on it. I made positive impacts and grew professionally, but I also learned very quickly that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. The work environment took its toll on me mentally and physically. I knew I wasn’t doing my best work, yet I couldn’t bring myself to look for another job. Much to my dismay, I was forced into the job-hunting market after just 15 months.

At the time, we had two vehicle payments, a student loan and what I would consider a typical debt load for a family of four. My children were involved in dance, soccer and Girl Scouts, each of which added to our financial obligations. Remaining unemployed was not an option.

I don’t recall how many resumes I sent or how many interviews I had — after all, eight years have passed since then. But I do remember I soon found myself considering a return to the ad agency business. I jokingly told people I was glutton for punishment. The truth is I was quite comfortable in an agency setting and had the experience that made me an attractive candidate.

Four months later, I started working for a multi-market advertising and public relations firm. Oh, what a wild ride that was! In two-and-a-half years, my supervisor changed three times, and my job title, just as often. My level of responsibility definitely increased during that time, but the changes also were effects of the restructuring that took place. What didn’t help matters was the economic impact 9/11 had on some of the businesses we served. The entire staff knew the agency struggled financially, and hearing news of other local agencies going out of business did nothing to lift our spirits.

In an effort to put my needs first, I applied for a couple of positions while I still worked. But job-hunting was really at the bottom of my list. I worked long hours, busting my tail for clients who ultimately contributed to the downfall of the agency. I somehow had the notion that our staff’s hard work would pay off. But in December 2003, the CEO met with us to say the agency was closing its doors. I was speechless, but the tears streaming down my face spoke for me.

My mind was made up. My next job would be anywhere but in an advertising and public relations firm. Perhaps I was unfair by assuming that no agency could offer job security. For my own sanity, though, I decided to focus my efforts on in-house marketing jobs — in other words, for companies that had their own marketing departments. Next time, I’ll share details of the unique job interview that led to my latest position and my current, seemingly never-ending, misadventures in job-hunting.
by Cynthia Baxter

Misadventures in Job-huntingThe Unemployment Line

“Who am I and how did I get here?”

Not long ago, I found myself asking these questions. I suppose I was suffering from a mild identity crisis. I had become the victim of a business downsizing and found myself in an all-too-familiar situation.

I knew who I was at one point: one of the top ten students in my high school class, then a Franklin College student blessed with an academic scholarship. I was a journalism major intent on working in an advertising agency. Imagine how thrilled I was to have a job lined up at a Fort Wayne agency even before I graduated. I was really going somewhere.

Recently, I was helping my firstborn research where the best jobs would be in 2012 when she’ll be ready to start her own career. Doing this type of research never even occurred to me when I was in school. Rather, I chose a career where I could use my strengths: writing, creative thinking and team leadership. My decision-making process wasn’t altogether wrong, but perhaps it was lacking. Sometimes, I wonder whether I would have chosen the same career if I would have had the vast resources that are now available via the World Wide Web.

Don’t get me wrong — I had many wonderful experiences in the advertising business: developing different skills — some by choice and some out of necessity; tackling new challenges, which in many cases meant putting out fires, something I find strangely exciting; and working with some really cool clients.

But the business is cutthroat. Looking back, I’m surprised I wasn’t scared off by what I encountered during a college internship. The agency where I interned had a number of empty desks and offices. The firm had just lost a major account and had no choice but to cut its workforce. Maybe I was naïve enough to think it would never happen to me. Indeed, I was fortunate: I served the same agency for seven years before my husband took another job that led us to relocate.

When we planned our move to Indianapolis, I really had my mind set on making a change. I wanted to find a job where I could be more involved in the public relations side of marketing. So my next great adventure was a brief stint as a communications manager serving Indiana’s state government. I enjoyed many aspects of that job; I supported admirable causes and rubbed elbows with political bigwigs. But, for a myriad of reasons, I jumped at a new opportunity when a former coworker recommended me to another organization. That was the last time I left a job by my own choice.

I’m definitely a good catch; my past supervisors and coworkers would attest to that. Yet, I’ve been actively employed just six-and-a-half years out of the past eight, spending the balance of the time experiencing what can best be described as “Misadventures in Job-hunting.” The next time I write, I’ll share what I’ve encountered.

by Cynthia Baxter