Do You Speak My Language?

(co-written with my daughter)
 
One of my daughters takes French in school. I was pretty excited when she chose French--while I might not be able to help her sister with Spanish or either of them with advanced math, I figured I could handle French.  After all, I did take French for 4 years in high school and several years in college (and spent a very quiet week living with a French family). How hard could it be to help my daughter, particularly with her first year?
 
Tomorrow, she has a quiz.  A little verb conjugation, days of the week--things like that. So she came to me for studying help.  After all, I'm the one who took years of French. And even if I barely spoke to my exchange family, I did survive, so I must know something.  Right?
 
I'm good with the days of the week. But how do you conjugate the verb 'avoir'? Uh, oh. Is this the same French?
 
We were fine, but it did make me think about how, as one navigates job changes, one of the challenges is reconciling the language barriers.  Is something called a Voiceover or an OTF? Depends on whether you're working in scripted TV or reality (and terms even vary from show to show).  Is the schedule called the Order of the Day, Way of the Day, or Rundown?  When you're editing, are you pulling up or trimming?  Sliding or rolling?  Depends on the edit system you're using.  And these are just terms within a specific field. What about when you're exploring a brand new field?  You may think you know your native language, but do you, really?
 
So, this year has been a series of language lessons for me, and not just brushing up on my French to help my daughter.  It's hard to visit new places without learning the language first, so language learning, it appears, will be an education that lasts a lifetime.  And while helping my daughter might make me ready for a trip to France (ooh, that'd be nice!), learning the assorted languages of work will help me too--for some interesting journeys a little closer to home.

I Don't Feel No Ways Tired

My husband would take exception with this title, as he, a night person, rarely sees me, a morning person, NOT tired. But no matter, a title is a title, and since I am, in fact, writing today before I've gotten tired, it works, even if it bears no resemblance to how I talk.  Or write.
 
The title is actually a line from a song used on One Life to Live. Many years ago, in an effort to attract a more diverse audience, the show introduced rap and gospel music storylines.  I don't remember much about the rap story, but the central song from the gospel portion, sung at the time by the fantastic Valerie Pettiford, has stuck with me for close to 20 years.
 
"I don't feel no ways tired. I've come too far from where I started from. Nobody told me that the road would be easy.  I don't believe he's brought me this far to leave me."
 
Say what you want about the religious part (it WAS part of a gospel storyline).  The rest of it is empowering both on good days and on bad ones.  It celebrates what you've already accomplished, and how that can keep you going to the next step.
 
All too often, we focus on the shortcomings of now, rather than the strengths of days past.  Chances are, no matter where we are today, we HAVE come a long way, either personally, professionally, or both.  So, to stop now, because we've wearied of the current journey--that would be like giving up all that progress.  And whether you consider "I don't believe he's brought me this far to leave me" religious or not, it is a reminder that we all have company--supporters in our daily journeys and struggles.
 
So, I imagine I will still be singing this song another 20 years from now.  It resonates as strongly for me today as it did back then.  The road may not always be easy, but I've got friends and good music to keep me company.

Feeding Your Audience

Yesterday, in the midst of traveling home from afterschool, my son announced that he would be making dinner.  He is 8.
 
"What are you making?" I asked, to which he replied that it was a surprise.
 
"What if not everyone likes what you decide to make?" I asked.
 
"You guys always make things I don't like, and I just find stuff in the fridge.  They can just do that."
 
And then and there, his battle was won.
 
At the age of 8, my son is an excellent negotiator.  He knows what he wants, and he knows what words to use to sway his audience.  And in life, often that's half--no, more than half--the battle.
 
Freelancing, particularly freelancing in multiple arenas, is a lot like that.  On a daily basis, I find that I am redefining how I present myself, based on the people I'm approaching.  On the down side, it sometimes makes me unsure of exactly who I am each day.  On the up side, it reminds me that if I can sell myself to so many different audiences, my skill set must pretty big.  So, while my powers of persuasion might not be QUITE as good as my son's, I can say that I taught him at least a bit of what he knows.
 
(Oh, and in case you were wondering, the dinner my son made was bacon/hot dog/cheese/lettuce sandwiches.  And while some people did supplement it with trips to the fridge, it was generally considered a success.)

One Short Day in the Gray, Snowy City

I woke up this morning to The New York Times reporting that companies actually give employees incentives to refer friends for jobs--incentives that make it virtually impossible for an unconnected job seeker ever to get in.  The article went on to say that job search sites can actually put applicants in an even worse position, since many company recruiters practically disregard these applicants without a second thought.
 
I could have let this article ruin my day.  It seemed so bleak in terms of job searching and in terms of humanity.  Instead, I let the article turn my day around.
 
The day began (well, began again after children were off to school) not with reading numerous listings, but with emails to friends and former coworkers.  And saying yes to a volunteering request.  And what came out of it was, well, just what the article was focusing on--conversations between people who knew each other. Who could reel off each others strengths and weaknesses without a resume to help them.  It was the kind of referral that the article said companies thought made for the best employees.
 
I won't attribute my productive day to a newspaper article. Maybe it was saying yes to the volunteering request.  Or the crisp snowy air.  Perhaps it was the accomplishment of laundry started at 6am.  Or maybe it was just some unexplainable good karma.
 
But the article did make me think.  And look at things in a different way.  It's kind of great how something you read or someone you talk to can do that.  Hey, the days are short.  So you may as well do anything you can do to make the most of each hour.  Your next referral--and your next job--might depend on it.

My Dinner With...

Last night, I had dinner with a bunch of former coworkers. Each is at a different place in his or her life, some successful, some searching for success, or, at least, answers.  I would say I fell somewhere in the middle.  It is both exhilarating and sad to reunite with a group of people who shared your daily life for so many years.  It took me a while to recover from both the up and the down.
 
When in the company of people looking for work, or perhaps more fulfilling work, it is hard to avoid talking about the job search process in between reminiscing about old times. And so it was that I found myself talking to one of the people there about resume words, and quantifying, and translating call sheets into spreadsheets.  It was all very smart, really, it was. And yet, there was something kind of sad about taking the creative out of it all.  While I knew she was right about people understanding numbers more than stories, and while I knew that she was only talking about playing the game as it needed to be played, I couldn't help but resist the idea.
 
And despite my resistance right now, when I sit down at the computer tomorrow, I will probably take her words to heart and draft yet another resume, this time making me the person who has edited x-hundred episodes of television and saved x-many thousands of dollars by being a proactive crew manager. And perhaps this new resume will land me a job in a field I never imagined. The stories behind all that television might matter to me, but the skills I used and honed there are what the recipients of my emails and applications need to see.
 
So, thank you, my dinner companions, for sharing an evening complete with laughs and lots of hugs.  And thank you too, for pushing me to keep moving forward. I imagine that's something we all have to do.

You Can Bank On It

We spent a large part of today at the bank.  Okay, that sounds insane, but a new bank opened by us today, and the opening day festivities were the best free entertainment we've had in a while.  There was music, and a dancing woman on stilts (who, I think, danced on stilts for four hours straight).  There were free hot dogs, and scratch and win cards (we didn't win money, but we now have enough squishy apples to take care of a LOT of stress!)  To top it all off, the neighboring office supply store joined in with all sorts of one dollar goodies.

And, as I often ask, why is this blogworthy?

I am sure the bank calculated the cost of its grand opening against the extra business it would get.  But, the truth is, no matter how calculated it may have been, it gave us a good feeling about that bank that will likely last a long time.  Meaning that, if many other people walked away feeling as we did, it was money well spent.

Making people think you appreciate them, whether by giving them praise or by giving them free stuff, tends to make for happy people.  I still smile when I put on one of the many pieces of show logo clothing I was given when I worked on Cosby.  And I still smile when someone totally gets what I do or gets what I have written, and thanks me for it.  The cost of appreciation may vary, but what it buys is almost always worth it.

Sometimes I wish I were a boss, so I could be the one in a position to give the appreciation.  When I worked in TV control rooms, I always announced the end of the day with, "That's it everybody.  Thanks very much." And though what I said was the same each night, perhaps as if pre-recorded, it was as sincere the last night as it had been the first.  Just as the bank worked to make sure people today walked away happy, I really did believe people should walk away happy after working hard all day.  And that walking away happy would mean walking back happy tomorrow.

So, someday, when I am a boss--whether in television or in cookie-making or in who-knows-what, I look forward to finding lots of ways to appreciate the people who make things work.  You can bank on it.

Kids at Heart

I love the Muppets.  I love marshmallows and stuffed animals and If You Give a Mouse a Cookie and Don't Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus.  I guess you could say I'm a kid at heart.  And I know that this has guided my exploration of children's media.  There is a warmth in so much of the content made for children that I can't help responding to, on a deep, gut level. You may not need to be a grown up kid to make content for children, but I'm sure it doesn't hurt.
 
The kid at heart thing doesn't hurt when you're a parent either.  It's far more fun to read picture books to your kids over and over when you love them yourself.  And you're a much more convincing hero or villain in a game of pretend when you can happily throw yourself into it.
 
The only problem is, kids need more than just picture books and pretend, and making content for children requires more than just loving cute, furry characters.
 
In the course of my job exploration, I have looked into many things, those that spoke to my heart and those that spoke closer to my bank account.  What's great about having to search is that your world opens up.  You feel that suddenly, there are so many possibilities, so many opportunities to do what you always wanted to do.  But, as in parenthood (or perhaps because of it), what "you've always wanted to do" is not the only consideration.  Children need more than just picture books and pretend, and, it turns out, "kid at heart" parents need more too.
 
When I stepped onto the set of One Life to Live almost 25 years ago, I stepped into "what I always wanted to do," which was a tremendously lucky opportunity for someone just starting out.  And, while those "stepping into" opportunities are amazing, parenthood, even when you have to be a grownup to do it, is pretty amazing too.  So, if my next "what I always wanted" opportunity has to wait a little, that's okay. My kids and I will still have our picture books and our marshmallows, our stuffed animals and our Muppets.