Author: Rebecca Healy
My goal is to help you find meaningful work, enjoy the heck out of it, and earn more money.
1. Being nice is seen as flirting.
2. Men say in response to your success, “I always knew you were beautiful, but I had no idea you were intelligent as well,” and you just smile.
3. The female commons is tragic.
4. A meeting is never just a meeting.
5. You’re told to use your sexuality. But not too much.
6. You’re told to ask. But not too much.
7. You’re told to be ambitious, but ambition makes you a dirty word.
8. You’re told that you’ll never marry, but married men love you.
9. You don’t know if it’s safer to be walked home or to walk home alone.
10. Pearls, candles, and lotion are supposedly better gifts for you than iPods, books, and domain names.
11. Shoes determine whether you’re a prude or just plain incompetent.
12. And if you’re a feminist, you have better sex, which doesn’t matter because feminism has “completely screwed you.”
Rise above.
“Should I bring my scarf?” Sam Davidson of Cool People Care asked me. He had just arrived to Madison from Nashville to give a speech to my organization.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Should I bring my gloves?”
“Yes, bring everything warm that you have,” I said. Sam went up to his hotel room and came back with his scarf, his gloves and nothing else.
“Where’s your coat?” I demanded.
“This is my coat,” he said. I looked down at his suit jacket and back up at his face, confused.
“Okay,” I said finally. “Come on then.” I walked outside, a little worried how Sam and I were going to get along if he didn’t even understand the meaning of the words “Wisconsin” and “Winter” in the same sentence.
Sam assured me, however, that he was tough, and true to his word – no matter how much I baited him – he didn’t complain.
Tough is a good word to describe Sam. Not in the traditional steel factory sense of the word, but in the hard-hitting, no-nonsense kind of way. He’s interested in people, he’s interested in change, and he wants to know how to bring the two together.
He’s practical about where he comes from, the detours he’s taken, and turns the notion of a designated path on its head. And perhaps that is what is so refreshing about Sam. He’s straightforward, but uniquely human at the same time. Like when after a particularly meaningful story, Sam stated, “I wore socks today. I hate wearing socks.”
Sam gave his speech on Wednesday night (which was really good), and we all went out to dinner afterwards. And on Thursday, Sam and I proceeded to spend fifteen hours together straight. We went on a tour of Madison into the shops, and the art museum, and our Capitol (although Sam insists that “It’s pretty, huh?” isn’t really a tour at all), and then off to lunch meetings, coffee shop meetings, sushi dinner with Employee Evolution, after-dinner drinks, and after-drink conversations.
And as we moved throughout the day, I felt how great it was to be making a new friend. It’s single-handedly one of the most powerful things, to begin to trust someone, to share your dreams and goals, and your frustrations and anger. To have a mutual respect and desire to change the world. Our generation thrives so much on loose connections, Facebook friends, being quasi-anonymous, that making deep connections often seems like too much work.
But it’s not. It’s just being observant and open. It’s asking the questions beyond simply where you come from and what you do:
“Why are you controversial?”
“How can we work together?”
“Why are you so tight-lipped about your dating life?”
“Do you think you’re moving too slowly?”
“What’s the soundtrack to your life?”
“Do you work out of this coffee shop often?”
“What’s the story behind changing your beliefs?”
“How did you know your wife was the one?”
“What does edgy mean?”
“What’s next?”
Sam and I asked each other these very questions. It’s about investigating and caring about who the other person is. It’s about wanting to know someone intimately, because that’s all we really want anyway. To be known, appreciated, challenged.
When I meet with people, even CEOs or semi-celebrities, the most interesting discussion always happens after we should have ended the meeting. It’s the point where you can get up and leave, or you can ask another question, an unexpected question, a silly or meaningful question, but a question that pushes deeper.
It’s easy to ask the basic questions. But friendships aren’t forged, and change doesn’t happen with easy questions. Instead, you have to ask the story behind those questions.
You have to reach around and ask about the cup of cold coffee sitting on the black table with the guy standing in a kilt on the staircase. You have to ask about that. You have to ask about who a person is.
Friendly challenge.
Second snow
The first taste
My favorite lunch spot
What passion looks like
When I got sick, one of the first things I had to do to get better was learn to give myself shots in the stomach. The very first time I had to do it, I sat on a hospital bed with Johannes across from me and the nurse beside me, and I cried. And when I say cried, I mean I bawled harder than I have ever bawled in my adult existence. My whole body heaved with the impossibility of the task.
Johannes sat cringing next to me. He had just spent four years studying to be a doctor, and for him, this was like opening your eyes in the morning. For me, it was like the nightmares I have where I’m falling and don’t know where I’ll land. It was pure terror.
I couldn’t do it. The nurse left the room, and Johannes looked at me with disgust.
And then.
And then, something inside me flipped. I stopped crying. The nurse came back in. She handed me the needle, and I did it. As simple as pushing a button into the button hole, I pushed the needle into my stomach. And when I got home, I had to lie on my couch and do it every night all alone, and I did it then too.
After this, there were several more visits to the ER, an eventual surgery, and when it was all done, when it was finally all finished, I felt euphoric. Euphoria enveloped me for all that I had been through; for all that I had fought against and won.
You have to work hard, and sometimes you have to gloriously muck something up to be really successful later. Why we’re always so afraid of conflict, diversity, adversity has never made sense to me. I have no patience for people who are sanctimoniously happy all the time. It means they haven’t taken enough risks.
Success is directly related to how hard you push yourself.
I write about how difficult the process of becoming a leader is, the problems I’ve had transitioning, how life is just plain hard sometimes, to illustrate that once you find your passion it’s not all about birds chirping and bunny rabbits frolicking.
Of course, that’s part of it; right now, for instance, I am really excited. I just had a great meeting with those in my organization. We’re getting closer and closer to rocking out. You know, like, the lip-singing-dancing-around-the-living-room-jumping-for-joy kind of rocking out. But in a Board Room.
And that makes me happy. Especially because I worked hard to prepare for that meeting. Really hard. Our database hates me with a vengeance hard. Sixteen or seventeen meetings a week hard. Like, my apartment is messy an hour after I clean it hard.
I generally spend every waking moment thinking and acting on how we’re going to rock it. So when things go well, that feeling of euphoria – of happiness to the point of enlightenment – is because I’ve pushed myself farther than I’ve ever gone before. Just like when I was sick.
So, it’s hard. And it’s work. And sometimes it’s pure terror. But that’s passion in a nutshell. You wake up and you can’t imagine doing anything else. You do it because there is no other way to be.
Be working to be rocking.
My sock drawers
If you cook, you’ll know
Last week, I scheduled a meeting with one of the top CEOs in Madison, Mr. Rich. Here’s how I did it and how you can too:
1. Make first contact. Meet Mr. Shaker at an event. Go up and introduce yourself. Yes, I know this is hard, especially when CEO #1 stands by CEO #2 and Celebrity #3. Must they cluster? Go and introduce yourself anyway. You are not a chicken. Go! You don’t have to have a lot to say. Just introduce yourself, set the stage for a meeting, and gracefully exit.
Another option is to send a letter. A letter is for when you have no way of meeting them in person. It warms up the cold call. It should be short and to the point, and give appropriate information, but not enough that a meeting isn’t necessary. The primary purpose of the letter is to set the stage for your phone call to set up a meeting.
2. Write yourself a script and act. I learned the value of a script, and the basis of all relationship-building in business, when I was a telefunder in college. Not a telemarketer. TeleFUNDER. Big difference.
As a telefunder, I read off a script, and after four years, I knew that script by heart. Every time I sat down to make calls, I pulled the script up on the screen. Half the time I wouldn’t even look at it, but it gave me the confidence to know exactly what to say, improvise, and to become the top fundraiser out of hundreds of other callers.
These days, when I make calls, I still bring up a script. It’s short and to the point, and I’ve thought out many of the potential objections in my head.
Then I lower my voice. This is because I have a high girly voice, and that’s really annoying on the phone. I learned this the hard way when I tried to be a cheerleader my first week of telefunding. I almost got fired I was so chipper. Pay attention to what you want to convey and act it out.
3. Be persistent. The first time you call you’ll probably get their voicemail, or the secretary. They’re counting on you to give up. Not the first time. Nobody gives up the first time. But maybe the second time, or the third. Don’t let your attempts taper off. You have to be the person that calls back the fourth, fifth, sixth time.
Call on different days and times of the week. While your worst time might be Wednesday at 8:30 am, that might the perfect day for you to reach Mr. CEO.
Or maybe email is better. It just depends. A general rule of thumb is that older generations will respond quicker to phone calls, while twentysomethings will respond quicker to emails. Skip the guessing game next time by asking Miss Celebrity how she prefers to be contacted when she hands over her business card. Golden.
4. I said persistent, not creepy. If I call a CEO five times a week, I only leave a message once or twice. You don’t want to be all scary about it.
5. Be persuasive and positive. Never ever remind the CEO that you’ve already contacted them last week in your message. You can refer to your first contact, but not the ten calls you’ve made in between. I guarantee that the CEO knows about the ten calls you’ve made, and if you just stay upbeat and positive with the tone of your voice, they’ll call you back.
Persuasive doesn’t mean pushy. Persuasive isn’t begging. Persuasive is confidence. Don’t confuse it.
6. Be strategic and ready for run-ins. It never fails that I am often embarrassed in front of important people.
In calling Mr. Rich to set up a meeting, I ran into him three different times unexpectedly. The first was when I was walking to the coffee shop wearing my “pigpen” pants and he rounded the corner. I think the term “pigpen” is self-explanatory. This is not the time to talk. Smile. Say hello. Keep walking. The second was when I came out of a public restroom and I opened the door right into Mr. Rich. Smile. Apologize. Keep walking.
The third was at an annual dinner. It was one of those times when he was standing next to two other bigwigs. This is not the time to keep walking. Stop. Introduce yourself. Go back to step #1.
7. Notice the flow. The hard and time consuming stuff is in the beginning. Getting a meeting is much harder than the meeting itself. Make it work.
Go on with your bad self.
Need more? One of the best series on networking can be found here.