As much as I enjoy writing, there’s one writing task that I find difficult to do: write my resume. Actually, writing anything serious about me is tough. I’ve always chalked it up as a “girl thing”, the inability or resistance to promoting my career successes. You know us girls – unless it’s promoting the fabulous new shoes we’re wearing or our ability to uncover fashion bargains, we tend to lay low when it comes to self-promotion.
My guess is that many of you share the same feeling when it comes to writing and/or revising your resume. What to leave in? What to leave out? How far back should we go with our work experience? What about awards or recognition? Hobbies? Other?
In theory it seems simple. A resume is a list of accomplishments that should give the reader an overview of our capabilities and success stories, as well as a bit of history as it relates to our work and education. But when the rubber meets the road, or the VISA meets the purchase decision, we tend to under-promote ourselves, overlooking some of our greatest accomplishments.
And have you noticed how much easier it is to write someone else’s resume than it is your own? I can easily pound out some great verbiage for others, but when it comes to my own resume my brain seems to turn off. I sit frozen in front of the computer, almost as if I have no idea how to use the thing.
Recently I had the privilege to speak with some top-notch graduate students who will embark on their careers in the next year. Their assignment was to develop their “elevator speech” and try to network with me and other executives.
Note: I still have a hard time using the word “executive” to describe me in any way. All sorts of questions race through my head: at what title, years of experience, etc. does one earn the right to call themselves an executive? But I digress.
Anyhoo, one of the students approached and presented her elevator speech. In speaking with her during the follow-up critique, I discovered that she had been captain of the university swim team. After more discussion with her professor, I learned that not only was she captain, but also a six-time All-American. And an Olympic trial qualifier!
Wait a minute – you were team captain at a division 1 university AND a six-time All-American AND good enough to even qualify for Olympic trials AND you failed to mention it during your 3-minute elevator speech? Are you kidding me?
I must admit that if I had been captain of anything in college, even the Laundry Club, I would include it in my elevator speech.
In her defense, she’s not alone here. Many of us do the same thing, even those of us who are seasoned veterans. We do what journalists do sometimes when trying to down-play negative news. It’s called “burying the lead”, when the main story is buried under more inane stories. You know, like having the headline “Slight chance of rain on Tuesday” in bold type as the main story on the front page, with “Earth invaded by Martians” in eight-point font buried on the bottom of page 26 next to an ad for toilet paper.
I immediately pointed this out to her as a gigantic missed opportunity. By leading with her unique background, she would be remembered and stand out among a sea of job applicants.
And I really must thank her. She helped me remember to lead with my main story when I’m networking, rather than burying it under the more mundane stuff that needs to be included but is basically the same as everyone else’s experience.
Wish I could include six-time All-American in my speech.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved
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