March 2008

I'd like to welcome my colleague Rose, who is going to guest blog today. Welcome Rose! - Anna

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I couldn’t help but write a few notes about a recent WSJ article: “Avoiding Conflicts, The Too-Nice Boss Makes Matters Worse” by Jared Sandberg. After I read the piece, not only was I humming the Janet Jackson song ‘Feedback,’ but I also reflected on what Anna blogs about concerning the workplace, management, Gen Y, etc.

The need for feedback is one Anna has talked about here and in other places as well. Sandberg’s piece points out that the kind of constructive criticism and constant feedback Anna wants us to give Gen Y really is crucial to their growth in the business/management world. After all, this 80 million strong generation (100 million by some counts) will eventually include the next Jack Welch, Steve Jobs, and Martha Stewart. Paradoxically, the article also makes clear that perhaps it’s not just Gen Yers who need to hear critical feedback; so do all employees.

We’ve read the pieces about Gen Y’s narcissistic tendencies and strong sense of entitlement. If that’s true, and Gen Yers are likely to overreact to negative feedback (because mommy and daddy told them they were geniuses and professors gave them all inflated As), then corporate America has got to get on the ball and figure out how to train Gen Y more effectively.

I have a lot of experience in restaurant management. The majority of my staff have been Gen Yers. When I tell you I’ve blushed at the things they’ve openly told me… I’m not exaggerating. They are all educated, bright, and extroverted people. As this article really hit home with me, I decided to share a few things I’ve learned:

1. I’ve learned you’ve got to apply the rules equally (as the article suggests), rather than bend the rules for a few. When one staffer finds out that I overlooked the 5 minute tardiness of another staffer, after I had punished the first one for tardiness the previous week, I will hear about it!

2. Also, fixing little problems is important. For example, we have a uniform. Every so often someone comes into work without proper attire. What pops into my head? Is it so hard to come to work with a proper, clean uniform? Is that really asking too much? Managers don’t always want to deal with fixing the little problems. It’s stressful. It is much easier to turn your head and say, “I didn’t see that.” This is where good and bad managers differ. If a manager cares about her job and her mission, she won’t try to please everybody. In the end turning a blind eye carries a hefty price for everyone. I agree with the complaints of the employees in the piece that a manager who turns a blind eye to low performing workers, in an attempt not to ruffle feathers, not only creates poor morale for the rest of the team, but also shows the manager’s self-centered need for people pleasing.

3. Our job as managers is NOT to be their BFF. I find myself repeating this rule to myself when an issue arises. All I ask of my staff is that they come to work focused on doing their job and providing great service. I don’t want to hear about who you are sleeping with, how you won the beer drinking award at the bar last night or that …..ahh. Let me stop here. ☺ This goes against what we read about Gen Y, as managers are advised to create relationships with their Gen Y employees [and we even have professors trying to reach out to Gen Y students through very personal Gen Y-style Facebook profiles – Anna]. The article points out that your boss might make a great neighbor or friend, but that’s not what you are looking for at work.

A perfect example: we initially had a very cheery people-person as our staff manager. The outcome was two-fold. She became everyone’s friend, got to know the staff very well, but nothing ever got done correctly. There were always ‘little issues’ or sloppiness. I couldn’t stand it, so we changed managers to someone more direct and aggressive, and we have seen a big improvement in process and employee camaraderie. Staffers may not initially like the nit picking and direct feedback, but I’ve heard more than once how they appreciate it. They know in the long run they will be that much better at what they do. They also see the fruit of their labor when their gratuities go up.

4. Gen Y very much enjoys working for a company that cares about its employees and its mission. They also like to be involved in decision making. You’d be surprised how late an employee will stay or how much harder he’ll work when he feels a part of something. I’ve involved my staff with everything from menu ideas to expansion plans, and the difference in output is astonishing.

5. As the article points out, we’ve all worked for the ‘Devil Wears Prada’ type boss. I know I’ve had my share of 90 hour work weeks with no such thing as work-life balance. Would I trade that experience for the types of managers mentioned in this article? Not a chance. As the piece points out, most employees want to hear how they are doing. They want to know what they can fix. After all, most of us look to advance at our jobs and beyond, right? The duty of our bosses is similar to that of a mentor/teacher: Pat me on the back when I’ve brought a great idea to the table (not every 5 min), but also point out what I am doing incorrectly so that I can improve.

At the end of the day, I think we can agree that Gen Y is not the only group looking for feedback. We all crave it.

US News has some timely tips for aspiring MBAs. (While I'm not a huge fan of their rankings, I'm happy to pass along good content when I see it.) The article also has a little shout-out to AIGAC, on whose board I serve.

Waitlists stink, don't they? I'm receiving a lot of emails right now from applicants agonizing about their waitlists. No matter what kind of program you've applied to -- college, business school, law school, public health, doesn't matter -- the process works more or less the same. Here's the drill:

You're on a waitlist because something about your file made you less than an easy decision to admit.

Maybe it's because one of your numbers is too low.

Maybe it's because you are a total stud and the school assumes you'll go somewhere higher up the food chain. Why risk taking a hit to its yield rate by wasting an offer on you?

Maybe it's because your numbers are great but your essay is subliterate.

Maybe one of your recommenders sandbagged you.

Maybe you flubbed your interview.

Maybe you're a perfectly fine applicant but your competition is really, really tough this year.

There could be a million reasons why you're on a waitlist. Or in a cryptic "hold" category. Or a cryptic... something. Example:

Dear Anna,

First, thank you so much! I applied to law school last Fall and consulted your book religiously. It's hard for me to describe how much your guide helped me through my application process -- not least in helping me avoid a number of things I now recognize to be application pitfalls. As a result, I've been admitted to 9 of the 12 law schools to which I applied, all but one in the top 14. I've recommended your book to everyone I know who's interested in applying to law school.

But now I find myself in a position that your book doesn't seem to address directly. I've been but on hold at two schools (Harvard and the University of Chicago). I've also received a cryptic email from a third (Yale) that said I would either be admitted or waitlisted in the coming weeks.

My roommate is in the same situation with Columbia, and I know a number of other applicants that are currently in the "on hold" limbo at other schools. Being put "on hold" seems fairly common, but no one seems to know the best course of action in this scenario. Should I start sending additional materials? Should I call the HLS admissions office and tell them Harvard is my first choice? I'm worried that by doing nothing I'll be wasting a huge opportunity.

Thanks again for all your guidance so far. Any advice you could offer would a great reassurance.

First, you should know that at this point in the season, being waitlisted, being "on hold," and not having heard anything at all are more or less the same for practical purposes.

Schools are waiting to see how things shake out after their first deposits come in. Then they do a head count, see if they are under- or over subscribed, see what their medians and quartiles look like, make sure they have enough minorities, etc. etc. -- all the stuff they get paid to worry about. Inevitably, there's some tweaking they have to do, and that tweaking continues for the rest of the summer, even into orientation. They spend the rest of the summer feverishly engineering their incoming class.

Why so long? Because in a world of the common app, gazillions of applications per person, and multiple deposits (with some variation, but not much, from program to program), admissions officers really can't get a true headcount just by looking at deposits. Deposits signify nothing about your true intention to attend, which is the main reason schools now maintain waitlists that are absurdly deep.

And as soon as someone gets off a waitlist somewhere else, and withdraws from the schools to which he has already sent deposits, the Big Mad Shuffle begins. It's like musical chairs. And it also means that admissions officers themselves have no earthly idea how the waitlist is going to unfold. There are even people who put down deposits and then just fail to show up at orientation. You might get that waitlist call after you've moved into student housing and bought your books and started playing stupid getting-to-know-you icebreaker and team-building games with your new classmates.

The bottom line is that the waitlist process is completely unpredictable for everyone involved. If admissions officers seem cryptic, it's because they don't know how things are going to develop any more than you do.

Which is why I scratch my head a bit when I get other emails from people saying, "I just sent my waitlist stuff in two weeks ago, and I still haven't heard anything, and OMG it's already so late, why haven't I heard anything yet???" It's not late in the process at all. By waitlist standards, it's early. Really, really early.

So, what to do when you find yourself in that situation? Well, put yourself in the shoes of the admissions officer. You're a mere mortal, and mere mortals are a little bit lazy, right? So if you find yourself having to fill a spot, and you're looking at a waitlist that's hundreds deep, do you want to have to call 300 people to find that one person who is willing to change his plans at the very last second? Nope. You'd rather call your mental shortlist of the 5 or 10 people who you think are the most likely to say "yes" when you call. You'll still have certain gaps to fill -- numbers you need, demographics you need, all that stuff over which applicants have no control anyway -- but fundamentally, you also care very much about how quickly you can fill that spot, and applicants do have some control over that.

What that means for you, the applicant: if you find yourself waitlisted, "on hold," or completely ignored by the powers that be at this point in the admissions season, you want to make crystal clear to your school of choice that you would be the guy who says "yes." You do that by writing them and telling them without any ambiguity that you remain very, very interested, and that you would accept an offer if you received one. You can make that promise to only one school, so be strategic about it, and be honest with yourself. (And if you know in your heart that you wouldn't say "yes" if that call came around, be a good citizen and take yourself off the waitlist. You'll make someone else very happy.) The other schools on your shortlist should get the strong expression of continued interest, without the promise to accept an offer.

Stay in touch with your shortlist of schools about once a month. That's often enough to stay on their radar screens without looking like a pest or a stalker. Those letters will feel very repetitive, and that's OK. If you have updates to share in those communications, so much the better, but don't feel as if you have to manufacture lame updates if all you have to say is... "I'm still really interested."

If your schedule and budget permit, visit the school. Say hello. Introduce yourself to the nice people at the front desk. Hand deliver your LOCI (letter of continued interest). Do not pitch a tent in the quad or call people at home or do anything stupid.

What doesn't work, in my experience?

• Extra letters of recommendation. Rec letters have such questionable value to begin with; sending more of them doesn't add a whole lot more value, although I would make an exception for MBA applications, where the recs really do matter.
• Extra essays, unless (1) additional essays are invited (like Chicago Law School's hold essay), or (2) you have not yet sent a very tailored, very credible "here's why I love your school!" essay as part of your original application.

Keeping my fingers crossed for you you... I know the wait is excruciating.

BusinessWeek continues the debate about Gen Y's "narcissism." (I put that in quotations marks because it's a loaded term, but also because it comes originally from Prof. Jean Twenge's study about Gen Y, not from me.)

The author of the BW article ("Gen Y: Really All That Naricisstic?") points out that there's a nicer side to this phenomenon, that Gen Y really just has a sense of "healthy self-esteem."

I'm not a psychiatrist, so I won't try to diagnose a person, or a whole generation, with a clinical disorder. However, as I've written about often, I do think that what we're seeing is an unhealthy level of self-esteem, self-esteem that is fake and fragile when it has not been earned. And I don't think it's crazy to spot elements of narcissism in an entire demographic that thinks the world wants to read blog postings about what they had for breakfast. An exaggeration, perhaps, but not far off. If lay-people want to call that narcissistic, I don't really have a bone to pick.

The comments to the BW article have already started coming in, and they are (as is often the case) just as interesting as the original article. ("Just like to point out that the Gen Ys are the kids of the original "Me Generation," the Boomers"...)

The boomer connection is an interesting one, and I've been mulling over the role of helicopter parents for a while now. I had one of those a-ha moments at a wedding I went to last year. Some of the younger kids wanted to perform. Some of them played piano, others hopped around on stage doing funny dances. It was funny, sometimes cute, sometimes not, and standard wedding fare. What seemed different from weddings many moons ago was that the parents expected the whole world to stop and watch what their kids were doing, and naturally they zoomed in with their camcorders to document every minute.

As I was watching, it dawned on me that an entire generation of kids has had every little gurgle and tap dance recorded for posterity, and I wonder what it does to a developing sense of self to be treated like a little celebrity from day one. Their every move has been documented and oohed and aahed over since before they emerged from the womb. It's like growing up with their very own paparazzi and publicists rolled into one.

I don't fault Gen Y for any of this. And even parents aren't completely to blame. Technology plays an interesting role here. Older generations didn't have access to cheap camcorders, for example, and one of the reasons previous generations of college students didn't talk to their parents six times a day was because you had to use a public phone booth -- down the hall! -- and pay a lot of money to make a long-distance call. Technology changes everything, obviously, and in this instance it enables helicopter and paparazzi parenting. Maybe it's not just a boomer thing, but I suspect it's a combination. Boomers + technology = helicopter/paparazzi parenting. It's interesting to me that so many of these articles about Gen Y and its "narcissism" seem to assume that this behavior springs forth sui generis.

More postings on Gen Y narcissism here and here. Postings about helicopter parents here. A post about real celebrity parents, Hilton/Lohan-style, here. And a post about the Say Everything phenomenon here.

The topic of graduate school admissions can pop up in the most unexpected places. I'm a fan of Salon.com, and one of their advice columnists (Cary Tennis) recently published a letter from a 20-year-old called "I'm wasting my semester abroad watching TV in my apartment." Subtitle: "Could I really be blowing the definitive period of my college life?" Tennis's advice in this column is spot-on: humane, productive, sympathetic. He gets it. I love him. I want to send him flowers.

I'm very familiar with the reader's plight, because it's a common one for college students and recent graduates. College students are encouraged to seize opportunities to stretch, but then they find that stretching experiences are inherently difficult and uncomfortable and unfamiliar. This article gives great advice about how to get unstuck in those situations.