At this time of year, a fresh wave of graduates washes out of our universities, bright shining degrees under their arms. If their qualification is vocational, perhaps that’s an easier path, though the yes jobs/no jobs mess graduate nurses are facing would suggest that’s not always the case.
If the jobseeker has done business or commerce, then the doors will be open at a number of big firms with structured graduate programmes where, after their hot girl/rat boy/Brat summers, they will be inducted, mentored and trained.
But if they have a pretty good BA in some sharp-thinking areas then, well, it seems they’re on their own. Their summer will be less hot girl than hot mess, waiting to hear on applications for career possibilities.
Someone I am close to is in this sector. A BA wrapped in three years, a second language part of it. Academically excellent and a CV full of those things people like me say “will look good on your CV”. Lots of part-time work, positions of responsibility. Managing social media accounts for various entities. Oh yes, that will look good on your CV.
It may look good but what I hadn’t figured was that barely any employers would read that “good” CV. Parents and friends of this newest wave of job market entrants, gird yourselves. Even with the desired experience or interest, plus a CV free of typos and an engaging cover letter, it’s brutal. Your fledgling will ultimately get there (or fly off to more welcoming climes). But until then, be ready for what you will try to frame as “character building” while seething about the battering of confidence so blithely meted out.
To use the tortured language of corporate HR, here are some key learnings:
Learning 1: Entry level doesn’t mean that. A role is advertised as an assistant to an assistant in the marketing department of an interesting multinational. The graduate has all the credentials they claim to want. The company is French owned, so the graduate writes her cover letter in both English and French, in which she is fluent. It takes the HR auto-sorting hat 15 minutes to return a form letter of rejection - not the “right experience” for a job purporting to be entry level.
Learning 2: Chaotic internal communication is not a good sign. Another new grad applies for a trainee programme in a large advertising agency. He does two rounds of interviews but misses out on the one position available. Well, that’s life, at least he tried, etc. But then HR calls a few months later. Now they have a role they think would suit his talents. Is he still keen? Yes, please. Days pass, silence. He contacts them: when should he come in for the interview? Er, no, says the HR person. Turns out there wasn’t really a role. Bit of an internal mix-up. Sorry, but not really.
Learning 3: Comms are bad and people will bullshit. My daughter gives a presentation on a third-year paper in the last days of her degree. In the room is a visitor from Wellington, high up in one of the ministries. Afterwards, she approaches my daughter and says, wonderful! You would be such an asset to our department, and guess what, we have an opening! She hands over a card and says she expects to hear from her. My daughter is beside herself: here’s a job and she hasn’t even formally graduated. Much joy. That was a Friday afternoon. At 9am on Monday, she emails the woman, attaching her CV and saying how she enjoyed meeting her and is keen to discuss the role further. Oh sorry, comes the reply, turns out we don’t actually have a job, bit of a mix-up here. But good luck!
Learning 4: Cracking the code for “we’ve changed our minds” or it’s filled internally. A post-grad student applies for a role she believes she’s well suited for. Her CV is dazzling, she ticks every box. The role is advertised on October 26, closes on November 13. She applies, a note to say application received (that’s a plus, and rare) and then on November 1, another note to say thank you but the role has been filled. A week after that, the job is still listed. Sloppy.
Learning 5: No one thinks it’s weird to have three people grill a newbie. A 22-year-old faces off a Dragon’s Den-style panel of three senior staff. Not a final stage for Fulbright selection or the defence of a thesis, but the first interview for a relatively junior role in an Auckland business. The applicant had the relevant resumé – this one was upfront in saying they needed two years in a similar role. After a week, a text to say no. Not the right experience. But they enjoyed meeting her.
So we’re all understanding this now, words like “start out” and “learn all about the industry” and “entry level position” is generally code for “two years’ experience”.
No business is perfect. In small ones, mentoring and training is not a given, especially where you have five people to do the work of 10 (I’ve been in one of those roles). But in bigger structures, you could and should expect better.
And it’s frankly rubbish to hide behind blather about getting so many applicants you can’t reply to them all. If the job ad spells out very clearly the qualifications and requirements, that should winnow the number of resumés. And in any case, it takes only a few minutes to set up responses that acknowledge receipt, and then say thank you but no, or thank you, we’ll be back to you when we’ve made our shortlist.
I’m also aware there could be someone reading this that I’ve inadvertently burned. But I hope not; having seen what happened to my daughter and her friends, it’s made me more aware of the impact of silence, or plain dicking people around.
And there are very good people out there, too: my daughter now has a role at a wonderful workplace that is mentoring her and developing her skills. But it took some time, tears at the setbacks and stints of casual work before she found her place.
And, yes, there is onus on the applicant to get their own house in order: The CV should be in a logical order, with correct spelling and to the point. If there’s a photo with it, does it say, “I’m the business” or “here for a good time”?
Not so long ago, we advertised a junior role at the Listener. The ad was very carefully written to explain the mandatories, and I was very specific on what we wanted applicants to provide, which included no more than three examples of their journalism.
That request made the shortlisting easier: About 80% of the applicants either didn’t send any writing or gave me links to 10. Around half didn’t even mention the Listener, just interest in “the media”. Those unsuitable received a reply within three working days that their application wouldn’t be proceeding.
There were some outstanding people who did what was asked and wrote pertinent cover letters. We made a shortlist, called others to explain why they hadn’t been shortlisted, and interviewed a small number. We found our ideal candidate and managed to place another applicant in a different role in the business that better suited her experience. We tried to do our best by all of them. I wonder how many other employers can say that.