Schoolguides Blog

Tee Off

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 21:24:00 +0000

One important rule in golf is to never rush to hit a golf ball. That's why they call it "addressing" the ball--you acknowledge the ball, evaluate its relative position to the fairway, the slope of the hill, the depth of the turf, any obstacles that may be in the way, the distance to the hole, the type of club that you'll be using. Before even swinging the club, dozens of estimations and adjustments have to be made, most of them inside the golfer's mind.

Now, compare that to a confrontation in the workplace. How many evaluations and acknowledgements take place before someone says something about somebody?

If I could be as consistent in the workplace as I am on the golf course, I would approach every confrontation like this:

First, I would evaluate my own state of mind. On the golf course, if I am angry at badly hitting the last shot, I would take time to calm down. In the office, if I had just left a heated meeting and was about to talk to a coworker about another problem, I would take a five minute break to relax.

While relaxing, I would focus strictly on the problem that needs to be resolved. I don't think about that last meeting. I don't think about what happened in the past. I don't fill my mind with useless, trivial things that have nothing to do with the problem in hand. In golf, if I am about to putt the ball into the hole, thinking about what happened two holes ago won't help me sink that putt.

I try to imagine a resolution, then think backwards to how it can be resolved, just like a golfer walks to the other side of the hole to see the path that the ball needs to take. I try to imagine different ways to solve the problem, and choose the one that is the simplest, easiest, and causes the least amount of trouble for all those involved. Usually the simplest solution is the best.

Just like accommodating for wind and whether there's a slope to the right or left, I also accommodate for the office atmosphere that I'm about to enter. Is it late in the day, when people are very tired and the only thing on their mind is going home? Is it too early in the morning, when they've just gotten through an hour's worth of driving through bad traffic? Is it right after lunch, when they have a little bit of food coma and their minds are a bit more relaxed?

There's a really nice version of golf called "best ball". This is when two or more players form a team, and at the end of the round, only the best scores from each hole are counted. It allows players to show off their strengths on certain holes, without having to worry about any players bringing the team down. There's no blame, only accomplishment, and everyone gets credit for the team's success.

Whenever I initially feel like teeing off on someone, I practice my golf swing by first writing my thoughts down, either on paper or on the computer. I look at my swing a number of times, rereading what I've just written. I imagine how far the ball would fly, then I would rewrite, over and over, until I can see the ball sailing toward the hole with the least amount of problems, least amount of obstacles, trees, and sand traps. I would rewrite until the language and intent stayed true and complete without hurting anyone, including me.

And then I would take a steady, honest swing.

Stumbling Through the Recession

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 03:14:00 +0000

During lunch last week, my business partner noticed that our waitress had beautifully painted nails, done in an elaborate harlequin pattern. My business partner often gets her own nails done, and asked the waitress where she got hers done. The waitress replied, "I paint my own nails, but right now I'm working two jobs and going to school, so it's only a hobby. I now only have time to change the design every three weeks."

As she said this, my business partner and I looked at each other and smiled. You see, both of us grew up with a love for art, especially drawing. We love to sketch, doodle, whatever, anywhere, any time. Even though we worked at different jobs when we were younger, from movie rental clerk (her) to glorified office go-fer (me), we never lost sight of what we really loved to do. Now we own a design business together.

We then asked our waitress if she ever considered videotaping her nail painting process and putting it on YouTube as a tutorial. We mentioned a web site where a young woman, about the same age as our waitress, was making a living showing YouTube videos of herself giving advice on how to apply makeup. In addition to sponsorships, she's working paid gigs as a makeup artist at photo shoots, weddings, and movie productions. Her YouTube videos are literally her resume!

The main reason my business partner and I mentioned the YouTube makeup girl's story was to show a real example of someone who pursued her passion and figured out a way to make money with it. During the lunch, our waitress kept coming back to our table to talk more shop, and before we left, her last words were, "Maybe you'll see me on YouTube!"

We're in the middle of a recession right now. Both my business partner and I graduated from college in the same year, also right in the middle of a previous recession. There's a good chance that our waitress will graduate from college in the middle of the current recession, and finding a steady job might be very tough for her.

But if she goes through what I and my business partner went through, she should do okay. If she continues to work hard and keep her eyes and options open, she has a good chance of figuring out how to make an honest living doing what she loves to do.

Some people say that during a recession, because all the "normal" jobs are usually already taken, people get more creative and wind up inventing new ways to make a living. Those who see the glass half full see a recession as an opportunity to do something that has never been done before.

Racking Up the Hours

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 19:58:00 +0000

In Malcolm Gladwell's latest book, Outliers, he talks about the 10,000-Hour Rule. The rule estimates that it takes 10,000 hours of studying and working at a certain skill before someone becomes really good at it. After 10,000 hours learning and writing software, Bill Gates had enough knowledge, experience and confidence to start Microsoft. After 10,000 hours of practicing and writing music, Mozart began to compose his most famous work. After 10,000 hours of playing gigs, the Beatles conquered America.

10,000 hours is about 4 hours a day, for ten years. It may seem like a lot of time, but I thought about how many hours I watch TV every day. Or talk on the phone. Or do research on Google and Wikipedia. Or actively participate on Facebook, MySpace, Yelp, and Twitter. All those hours spent that I'm not even aware of. All those hours spent, and in ten years, I will have had enough experience and knowledge to maybe make some serious money from any of these things that I do, not even thinking about it.

I got hooked on the Internet in 1994, making my first web site after spending two straight weeks, 10-16 hours a day, learning HTML. Web sites fascinated me so much that I didn't mind putting in the hours back then. Two weeks of this adds up to more than 200 hours. And it went by like a blur. After a month of absolutely geeking out and creating and tweaking web pages, I got an e-mail from a company that saw my web site. Within a week, they hired me to create their web site, working out of my house. I've been self-employed ever since.

It's now more than fourteen years later, and I'm still making web sites. Somewhere along the way during those fourteen years, a company asked me to research and write words for their web site, and another company did the same, and another, to the point where I was spending half my time writing original content and the other half making web sites. Also along the way, a company asked me to write little slogans to advertise their product, and another company asked me to make business cards. Another company asked me to sit down with their employees and teach them how the Internet works, and yet another asked me to sketch some logos for them. It seems every day gave me another opportunity to learn something new, to geek out and get my hands dirty in another aspect of the business world.

And it went by like a blur.

I sometimes ask myself, How did I get here? I think the answer is I rarely turned down an opportunity to do something besides what I originally set out to do. I never limited myself to just making web sites. If other things were asked of me, I usually checked them out to see if they were things that I might like doing, that I might eventually get really good at doing. I made sure to enjoy the experience, not thinking about it so much as "I gotta do this because of money," but more as "Heck, this might be really fun to try."

And things keep going by like a blur. And I am able, knock on wood, to stay in business. By now, I figure I've spent 10,000 hours honing at least three, maybe four different skills. That's three or four different jobs that I can be really good at.

Looking back, I wonder if I would be in this position if I hadn't put in those crazy hours at the very beginning. But I'm glad I did.

Representatives

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 06:22:00 +0000

America has recently voted for a new President. Being the President of the United States is a lot of pressure, especially when it seems that every move you make is on video and every word you say is written down and is on record forever.

For those of us who aren't running for president, we can take it easy a little, because we aren't scrutinized every single minute of the day.

Or so we think.

When I was in second grade, I was the first Filipino kid in my elementary school. None of the kids knew what a "Filipino" was, and so by default, I became all that they knew in terms of what kind of people came from this country called the Philippines. Because I was a good speller, the kids thought that all Filipinos were good spellers. Because I was pretty good at math, the kids thought that all Filipinos were good at math.

That's fine and well, but I wasn't that good at flag football back then. I hadn't figured out how to throw a decent spiral, or catch the ball the right way. And so, of course, the kids thought that Filipinos weren't very good at football. But over time (and a lot of practice in my backyard), I figured out how to throw a good enough spiral and catch the ball ("cradle it") in the pocket that my arms and hands made. Over time, the kids thought that Filipinos, even though they may not be good at something initially, learned pretty fast, and were worth picking when choosing sides during playground sports. I did the same with baseball, basketball and kickball, but could never figure out how to win at tetherball, dodgeball or handball. Overall, I was never the best, but at least I didn't suck.

But one thing that I made sure NEVER to do was create a bad reputation for myself. One reason is I didn't want to get in trouble with my parents. The other reason is I realized that, because it was easy for anybody to single me out (I was the short brown kid with the flat nose and straight black hair that wore long sleeves even in the middle of summer because my parents wanted their kid to look "proper" for school), I couldn't hide and blend in behind a group of other Filipino kids, because there weren't any except for me. If I did something bad, it felt like it was a bigger deal.

But I realized that if I did something GOOD, it was also a bigger deal. And so I focused on doing more good than bad. I did my best to study the hardest, work the hardest, get the best grades, and practice playing sports so, when it came time to choosing sides for basketball, "the Filipino kid" would not be picked last. As I got older and got into middle school, then high school, I kept doing my best because I didn't want people to associate "Filipino" with someone who didn't try to do their best all the time. After a while, it just became habit.

That was decades ago. Most schools now, especially in Los Angeles, are so much more mixed with different types of people. There are a lot more Filipino kids than there were when I was going to school. It might be a lot easier now to hide behind a group that looks similar to you and see if you can "get away" with doing something bad.

But I think that people will still notice, because there's always something unique with every person. Maybe you like to wear a hat a certain way. If you do something good, you'll give a better reputation to other people who wear hats the same way you do. If you talk a certain way, or dance a certain way, or ride a certain kind of bike, or play a sport, or play music, whatever it is about you that people can remember, they will, even if it's in a very small way, associate you with others who do certain things just like you do.

Just as I represented "Filipino" back in grade school, even though I didn't want that kind of pressure, another kid now will represent "Latino" or "African American", whether he or she likes it or not. Another kid will represent "redhead" or "blonde" or "brunette", and another kid will represent "Los Angeles" or "Oakland" or "San Diego" or wherever city he or she lives. All of us, no matter who we are, whether we like it or not, represent something to somebody because of what we do, what we say, and how we carry ourselves every day.

Mental Exercises That Keep Me From Going Crazy at Work

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Fri, 03 Oct 2008 06:36:00 +0000

This falls into the category of "Stuff I wish I'd known when I was younger." If only I'd practiced these mental exercises when I was going to school and when I was a young intern, my life would have been less stressful. Here are some things that come to mind.

Most of the time, people aren't out to ruin my life. I have to remember that.
Whenever I get a request that sounds unreasonable, I stop, calm myself, and re-read the request. If it still sounds unreasonable, I call the person to verify, and if possible, talk to them face to face.
Saying "yes" and not getting it done is the same as saying "no" in the first place. If I really don't have time to do something, I say "no, not right now" and offer to do it as soon as I finish my most important tasks.
I try never to talk to a person when I'm in the middle of a stressful situation. If the phone rings, I answer the phone and politely ask the person if it's okay for me to call them back in about ten minutes, long enough for me to count to one hundred and quiet my mind.
I don't add unnecessary tasks to my day, even if I find the extra time to do them. When I'm lucky enough to have free time, I spend that time to quiet and rest my mind, away from my desk.
I approach each day as if I can't remember anything, so I write down everything.
I drink plenty of water, if for no other reason than to force myself to pause in the middle of the day to simply enjoy my glass of water.
I remind myself that no matter how crazy the work day becomes, at the end of the day I am lucky enough to have a comfortable bed to sleep in.
I try to have only one thought going on at any one moment.
I remind myself that the reason I work is so that I can afford to enjoy life.

That reminds me--in the movie "The Great Debaters" Forrest Whitaker says, "We do what we have to do in order to do what we want to do."

GeekNerdSpaz

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 18:58:00 +0000

Imagine a job where you don't have to try. Imagine a job where you're really happy doing what you love doing. Imagine being paid to do something that you would do for free.

When I love doing something, I geek out over it, whether it's drawing, collecting baseball cards, watching Star Wars movies a hundred million times, playing the piano, computers, Googling, or writing long-winded passages that sometimes go nowhere. I've been called everything from a geek to a nerd to a spaz. Some people even tell me that I have too much time on my hands to be putting so much effort into what I do. It's been like this since grade school.

If I had listened to people who made fun of me back then, I might have stopped geeking out so much. I might have decided to ease back on what I thought was fun and intriguing and worked my brain, and instead spent more time trying to do what everyone else was doing. You know, the trendy stuff.

Of course, there were times when I felt like an outcast, and there were times when I thought other people were having more fun than I was because they were doing things that the people on TV sitcoms were doing, most of which were partying, wearing fashionable clothes, and gossiping.

I guess I didn't know any better, so I simply followed my bliss and just kept doing what was really really fun for me. The more fun I had, the more I found friends who also had fun doing the same thing. When it was baseball season, as well as playing baseball, we would collect, sort and trade baseball cards. When they opened up the first computer class in high school, my friends and I were the first ones to enroll. When we were able to save up some money, we bought and built model kits. When my college buddy needed help typing up his biology notes, I offered to do it, since I type fast, and don't ask me why, but I actually LIKE typing. It's therapeutic for me, just like playing the piano. See, this is why people call me a Geek, or Nerd, or Spaz.

But now that I'm much older, I'm absolutely glad that I didn't change my geeky ways. The time and energy that I spent sorting out baseball cards and studying the players' statistics now come in handy when I'm working on Excel charts. Being comfortable with statistics and mathematical trends (batting average, on-base percentage, etc.) helps me forecast what I need to do in the future for my and my clients' businesses.

The same enthusiasm I had dissecting and explaining the Star Wars Universe when I was a kid, I now bring that same enthusiasm to client meetings, to dissect and explain my understanding of the universe of their business. Allowing myself to geek out and immerse myself in my client's universe gives me a much better understanding of what they're about, and in return they appreciate the effort that I'm putting forth. In return, they hire me to do their project. Ka-ching.

As for typing up all those biology notes for my friend back in college, some years later I wound up getting a client who specializes in heart and lung surgery. After being hired initially to design their web site, I found out that the client also needed someone to research, write and edit medical text to add to their existing content.

I also do those things, I told them. How much more money do you need to do the other things? they asked me.

I used to hide my geekiness, but now I celebrate it every time I cash a client check. I used to be ashamed of being called a nerd, but now, especially with Bill Gates doing so many wonderful things with helping Africa and other poor nations, I don't feel bad about it anymore. As for being called a spaz, I have to remind myself about the first paragraph of this journal entry:

Imagine a job where you don't have to try. Imagine a job where you're really happy doing what you love doing. Imagine being paid to do something that you would do for free.

I'm very very lucky that I don't have to imagine it at all. No matter what anyone calls me.

Spoil Thy Teacher

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 05:20:00 +0000

Back in middle school, during shop class, I stumbled upon a realization.

Now, I've never had a natural aptitude in shop class (more of a math and science geek myself), so the best that I could do was a B+ in these classes. No matter how much I tried to measure twice and cut once, and sand down that piece of pine dowel with a 100 grit sandpaper, I could never get it good enough to get past a B+. Our teacher, Mr. Hawk (no kidding, that's his real name) allowed us to do extra credit projects, like making an extra rabbit piggy bank or a picture frame, to help boost our grades. Of course, I did as many extra credit assignments as possible, hoping to reach that A.

But near the end of the semester, I was still teetering on a B+. As class ended and the other kids were leaving, and I was sure that I'd wind up with a B+, Mr. Hawk called me over to his desk. He told me how he'd noticed that I was always in time for class, always had my shop tools organized and ready, cleaned up after myself, and made time to help out a couple classmates in using the shop tools, like a Jorgensen wood clamp. A Jorgensen clamp requires the user to use two hands to crank at the same time, and if you don't crank them evenly, they won't clamp straight.

Mr. Hawk pointed to his grade book, to my name, and next to it, the assortment of A's, B's, and C's that I got during the semester. To the right of those grades was the number 88, the average of all my grades, which is a B+. He then took his pencil, turned it around, and erased the 88 and made it a 90. An A-minus. He told me, "You see what I did there? This is because you did everything you were asked, and you're polite to me. I saw you over there helping those boys, and you made my job easier. For that, I think you deserve this grade."

I haven't forgotten what Mr. Hawk said, and to this day I do my best to apply it to my work. If I can rewrite a sentence so it's easier to read, I'll take an extra minute to do it. If I have to stay on the computer an extra ten minutes to doublecheck my work, I'll do it. If I have to restaple a stack of papers so they're easier to flip through, I think it's worth the trouble. Because I never know when I'll need that extra boost for my work, just as I needed for school.

The Fifty-Year Plan

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 19:22:00 +0000

Most people in the working world will be asked or already have been asked this question:

What's your five-year plan?

The question measures how well the worker has planned his or her career for the next five years, and what he or she is doing in the short term that will contribute to success in the long term.

My friend asked me the same question the other night, and I think my answer surprised him.

I told him, "I actually have a FIFTY-YEAR plan."

I sort of stumbled onto it by accident, but have tried to follow it ever since. My fifty-year plan began in the mid 1990's, when the Internet started to become popular. I had just graduated from college with a degree in design, and had discovered how to make web sites.

The first web site I ever made, I created while I had the flu. Bedridden and stuck inside the house, I made a personal web site that attracted my first client. I thought to myself, "Heck, if I can do this while sick with the flu, I can probably do this when I'm seventy years old."

So the first part of my fifty-year plan is to find a job that I enjoy, that I'm good at, that I would do even in my free time, and that I could do even when I'm sick or stuck in bed.

Soon after, I wound up owning my own business, and realized that, unlike working at a company that would cover my health benefits, I had to pay for my own healthcare. If I had to pay for my expenses, I'd better avoid getting sick or injured, and so I do my best to reduce the stress in my life, get some decent exercise, eat healthy, and not do stupid things physically.

I remember back in college, during classes where we worked with machinery, like mills and lathes and bandsaws, my classmates would sometimes make fun of me because I was super careful about not injuring my hands or fingers. Even back then, I realized how important my fingers were, especially since I also played the piano. Now that I'm spending most of the day typing away, I'm glad my digits are all intact and functioning properly.

So the second part of my fifty-year plan is to stay healthy and not do stupid things with my body.

I'm also lucky that I get along with my parents and family. When I was a teenager, I was a geek and a bookworm, and never got into trouble. But just like every other teenager, I sometimes (often) thought my parents were totally wrong, that they didn't know what they were talking about, and they had no right to tell me what to do with my life. Yes, we got into arguments and fights that sometimes lasted for days, but I never burned my bridges with them, or any of my family. Years later, when I needed their financial and emotional support, they were there, bailing me out. Now that I'm older, I make sure that I'm there for them as well.

The same goes with friends. I am also lucky to have friends that are successful, not just financially but also spiritually and emotionally. Many of my friends are smarter than I am, older and more experienced than I am, and they have already gone through what I have yet to go through. I pick their brains about their experiences, and I learn from them. Many of them have given me great advice, great support, and even great client referrals. And they're funny.

The third part of my fifty-year plan is to identify, develop and nurture healthy relationships with good people.

Even though I love making web sites, I know that nothing lasts forever, and I know that I won't be able to make web sites forever, at least not exactly as how I'm doing it right now. As I get older, younger kids with more energy will be better, faster, and smarter than I am in what I'm doing now.

But there are two things that they don't have, and that's MY experience and MY instinct. No matter how good they are, they will not have the stored information that I have in my brain and the mental reflexes that I've developed over the years.

Knowing this, I make sure that I cultivate my experience and instinct, by honing my specialties. If you're wondering what are "specialties", they're the things that make each person unique and different from anybody else. Me, it's the fact that I can draw as well as write. Being a designer that can also write gives me an advantage over other designers. And so I make myself better, by doing work that lets me write as well as design (like writing this blog). Any opportunity I get that lets me get better at my specialty, I go after it. Even if it doesn't pay as much, or doesn't pay at all, if it will let me get better, I go after it.

And so the fourth part of my fifty-year plan is to find my specialty, make myself an expert at it, cultivate it and keep my eyes open for opportunities that will help me get better.

The fifth part of my fifty-year plan is simple. ENJOY the process. Fifty years is a long time. With a job that I enjoy, with people that I enjoy, with health that I enjoy, and with a lifestyle that I enjoy, I just might be able to last that long.

The Two Joes

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Sat, 05 Jul 2008 04:04:00 +0000

When I was young, I used to think "adults" didn't know what they were talking about, probably because a lot of the time they were telling me and other kids what we should be doing with our lives. Everything was theory. If they had told it to me in stories, I might have listened more.

This story is about my friend Joe. He is a real person, and during baseball season we would go out and see a couple games, catch up on life. We're adults now and don't live very close to each other anymore, but we talk on the phone about once a month, and once in a while I would visit him and his family, and play with his kids.

I met Joe in high school, during P.E. class. Joe is your typical decent guy, not the class clown but not the nerd either. We were both in honors math class in high school, we took the same english classes, played a mean doubles tennis game, and both loved baseball.

Joe grew up not having a lot of money. His parents were divorced when he was young, and he was raised by his grandparents, with whom he stayed until he moved out and went to college. I, on the other hand, were raised by my parents, who were not divorced and to this day are still happily married. We also had middle class money, which means that my parents could afford to buy me a decent used car when I got my driver's license. Joe didn't have the same luxury so he worked for his car, which I remember always leaked oil. Even though we were different in terms of money, our personalities and sense of humor were compatible enough, and we loved Billy Joel and Star Wars.

Even though his childhood wasn't perfect, unlike other kids whose childhoods weren't perfect, Joe didn't get into trouble. Joe never got into fights, or did the usual rebellious things that you would expect from a kid like him. He studied hard in high school, studied hard in college, and ultimately became a doctor. Now he owns a good-sized house, is happily married and has three kids. Even though he could afford to pay cash for a Jaguar or a Mercedes, he drives a sensible SUV that can haul his whole family. He still shops at Costco, always looking for the best deals that money can buy.

His wife shares his approach to life, very low maintenance and humble. He once told me, "She isn't flashy and doesn't like to spend a lot of money. That's one of the reasons why I married her."

Looking at him now, you never would think that he grew up with almost nothing except his wit and hard work.

But I've been thinking lately, what would have happened if Joe took a different turn in life, similar to kids who didn't have perfect childhoods? What if Joe made one, or two, or more bad decisions? What would have happened to Joe if he was more rebellious in high school, didn't study, and slacked off instead? What if he decided to always be angry about his childhood and carry that anger over into his adult years? What if he, instead of doing something positive about it, had turned to drugs or alcohol or some other addiction, using his childhood as an excuse?

I'm glad that other Joe never happened.

The Customer is Always Right

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Sat, 10 May 2008 19:31:00 +0000

Business is made up of transactions, where one person pays for the services or the goods provided by another person. Whether it's buying a book at Borders or paying for a car wash or hiring a contractor to build a house, it's basically the same thing.

One of my friends recently asked me, "Why is it that the customer is always right? Since the customer is a human being, and human beings make mistakes sometimes, isn't is possible for a customer to be wrong?"

For years, I had thought the same thing. How can the customer always be right? What if the customer demands something outrageous or doesn't know what he's talking about, do I simply give that customer what he wants? Don't I owe it to myself to stand up for myself, when I know that the customer is absolutely wrong?

Yes, absolutely, I should stand up for myself. Yes, absolutely, I should tell the customer when he's wrong.

And yes, absolutely, there's a very good chance that as soon as I tell the customer that he's full of it, that customer will simply walk away from my business, never to come back again.

The bottom line is the customer is the one with the money. When the customer is right, he is the one with the money. And when the customer is wrong, well, he STILL is the one with the money. And my livelihood depends on whether or not he will give me money for my services or goods. Whether or not he is right, if he walks away from the transaction, I don't get his money.

So what am I supposed to do? I think there are three choices:

Always agree with the client even when he's wrong. I tried this at the beginning when I was just starting out and desperate for business. It gave me ulcers, and I stopped doing it.
Always tell the client NO whenever he is wrong. Whenever I did this and turned a client away, I had a harder time paying my mortgage, and that also gave me ulcers. I stopped doing this as well.
Work with the client and compromise.

I really like the third option, because I got paid more often when using it. Compromising does take more work at the beginning, and it takes a lot of diplomacy, patience, and clear communication, but in the long run it's a very good thing.

Because we are on the same team instead of against one another, working with the client allows the both of us to be right. It forces us to understand each other better. It forces us to see the other person's point of view.

Working with the client means that I'm working. When I work, I get paid. When I get paid, I am able to pay the mortgage, and I don't have to worry about ulcers.

I, Compendium

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 06:54:00 +0000

Tomorrow, I will be updating my resume to submit to a job agency that wants to represent me to potential clients.

Today, I

had breakfast with a friend. Among other things, we talked about the past, present, and possible future of technology. We talked about how to make life easier through technological improvements. One invention we would like to see is digitized clay, which can be molded by hand, but also be minutely adjusted using computerized coordinates. Imagine a piece of clay that, if you don't like how you shaped one area, you can undo and it will snap back to its previous shape one step back.

walked around a hobby store and looked at modelmaking material that I can use on occasional projects that require me to build three-dimensional mockups and presentations.

finished creating my niece's birthday video using iMovie on a Mac. I edited footage that I shot, researched music to accompany the movie, edited the movie using techniques that I learned from watching/studying Scorsese, Hitchcock, Spielberg, and Ken Burns movies. In addition to having fun, I use some of these storytelling techniques in developing web site experiences.

read an article in Poets and Writers magazine that talked about how agents are most interested in a writer's voice, that specific style and flow and attitude and timing that shows that a writer has a certain uniqueness, that a writer has established his identity, that he is confident in his direction, and that his voice clearly shows through on every word that he writes.

watched a TV interview with the comedian/actor/writer Steve Martin, who said, "Be so good that they can't ignore you."

When I was younger, I would write my resume to read as if I were as accomplished as my competition, presenting myself to sound like everyone else. I now realize that if I present myself as the EVERYTHING that I am, including my quirks, my geekiness on certain subjects, my honest opinion about what I really want to do in life, and what I am so good at that no one can ignore me, when I present myself this way, I realize that I have no competition, because no other person can be me. No one even comes close.

New Year's Early

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Tue, 01 Jan 2008 10:20:00 +0000

It's 2am on New Year's Day, and beginning at midnight until 1:30am, I greeted my family and friends, toasting in the new year. From 1:30am to 2am, I did some billable work on the computer.

Yes, from 1:30am to 2am, I worked.

Why?

One year I heard that the famous baseball catcher, Mike Piazza, to get a head start on everyone else, celebrated the new year by going to the batting cage to practice his swing. Mike Piazza holds the record for most home runs hit by a catcher, holds a record 10 consecutive times to win the Louisville Silver Slugger Award, and is on his way to the baseball Hall of Fame. I decided to follow his example one year, and have been doing it ever since.

Another reason I worked a half hour now is so that I'll have a half hour less to work for the rest of this year. I figured I had some energy left tonight, so I worked. Plus I get a head start on everyone else.

A third reason goes back to my teenage years, where I, full of angst and self-doubt, celebrated one New Year's Eve locked up in my bedroom, not talking to anyone, having that feeling of helplessness and "What's the use?" running through my mind.

Now, I take my business partner's advice, "If you don't like it, do something about it."

I want to have a better year than last year, so I do something about it. I want to begin the new year already having accomplished something, so I do something about it. I want to further empower myself this year, and so I do something about it. Early.

Here's the Mike Piazza article:
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/
mi_m1208/is_n17_v219/ai_16862082

Snippet from the article:

"Do you know where he was on New Year's Eve? He was in a basement batting cage, swinging at pitch after pitch, perspiring profusely, and he couldn't have cared less about Dick Clark and Times Square."

The Fighting Chance

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Sat, 22 Dec 2007 19:05:00 +0000

During lunch today, during a very philosophical discussion, my friend blurted out of nowhere, "What are you most afraid of?" He quickly followed by saying, "I know, it's a very tough question to answer, so don't worry about not having a definite answer..."

"I actually have an answer for that," I told him. "For a while, I've been asking myself the same question, and I think I finally have an answer. What I am most afraid of is Not Being Able To Do Anything About It."

My friend smiled to let me know that he understood, and I elaborated. "I hate not having a fighting chance to do something about it, about anything. It sometimes happens in dreams, and I hate that feeling."

"I know what you mean. I totally know what you mean," my friend said.

I'm currently recovering from a bout with bronchitis. The bronchitis was so bad the first day that I spent most of the day consciously trying to breathe in and out, instead of my diaphragm and lungs automatically doing the breathing for me. One of the many things we take for granted and not even think about most of the time, breathing, all of a sudden became a struggle for me. It reminded me of when I was a kid, during the first time that I got bronchitis. Back then, I thought that I was going to die, and there was no way out. After a few times with acute bronchitis, I know that if I just keep breathing and take my medicine, if I don't give up, it'll be okay.

This past year, which will be 365 days, I have probably said "Don't worry, things will turn out okay," to somebody at least 200 times, probably more. This past year, when asked for my opinion by a client, I have probably offered 100 negative points to think about but 1000 positive points to look forward to. This past year, I have probably laughed a thousand times with someone, many of them clients. About two dozen times, I have probably said "We laugh because we cannot cry" to try to cheer up a client who's having a terrible day, after talking for a while and finally finding something funny to laugh about.

Throughout my life, I've been faced with situations that I thought had no way out. From studying for four final exams in two days while having the flu, to figuring out how to pay the property tax when no freelance work was coming in, to deciding whether or not to quit a job that sucked the life out of me, when no other jobs were available. In every case (knock on wood), I survived. If you're wondering what happened to that job from hell, during my fourth day on the job, during my fourth day of absolute desperation, a friend of mine, whom I hadn't talked to in months, called and said they had a job opening at his partner's company, and asked if I was interested. The next day, I politely quit the job from hell, drove directly to the new job (which turned out to be wonderful), and have been thanking the stars ever since for that opportunity.

No matter how much I want to give up sometimes, I do my best to figure out how to keep going. Sometimes a person will give me the extra boost to keep going. Sometimes I am that person to give someone else a boost to help them keep going. But there always, always, always seems to be a fighting chance. And I will always, always, always be thankful for this.

Giving up is the easiest thing to do. Not giving up is the second easiest thing to do.

Variety is the Spice of Work

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Fri, 02 Nov 2007 05:54:00 +0000

Little did I know that boredom would become my ally.

My first college internship job was working full-time during summer and winter breaks at a large oil company's computer division. My official job description was Data Clerk, which meant that I helped input data into an Excel chart and assisted the lead programmer in setting up the company's electronic records.

Within three weeks of starting the job, my unofficial job description became Super Gopher. You know, gopher this, gopher that...

How did this happen? I worked way too fast for my schedule, and I got bored easily. Because my typing speed is about 90 words per minute, what should have taken me all summer to do, I wound up finishing in three weeks. So, not knowing any better, I simply asked my supervisor, Claudette, a wonderful and kind woman (it really helps if your boss is a decent person) if she had other work for me to do.

So Claudette started asking the other divisions if they needed help, and it turns out a lot of them did. Claudette came back to me with a short list of different tasks, and I got to choose which ones I was most interested in doing. I spent the next three weeks in drafting, helping the engineers sort out blueprint archives, making new blueprints, matching overlays with outdated records, and even taking the company car to drive out to different cities to pick up blueprints and documents from engineering firms. I spent another three weeks in the real estate division using a microfiche machine and maps to identify property records. After that, I went back to the computer division, where they had figured out something new for me to do with the updated database, this time using Access and Paradox software. I finished that early as well, so they sent me to help one of the managers write copy for flyers and response cards that were going to be sent to customers. I also worked on a dictation machine, helping the secretaries type out voice dictated memos. One of the managers even asked me to help him organize his office.

Before summer was over, I had done at least six different jobs with at least five different divisions. And I LOVED IT. While other interns worked on their "job descriptions", performing the same task day after day, trying to stretch out their duties to fill whatever time they had until each day was over, I was able to work everywhere, shmoozing with different folks, and getting to know the company as a whole. I was a bit more tired than the other interns but at least I wasn't bored. We had a saying at work, "It's better to have more work than not enough work."

During my winter internship, I even helped organize the Christmas party, sitting down and drawing decorations with the employees' children to help them pass the time. Little did I know that one of those children was the daughter of the company's president. At the next business lunch, he asked for me by name, and I wound up sitting next to him, talking about work and life and children and drawing. That was a two-hour lunch. I thought to myself, this intership thing is pretty cool.

Because I was bored, I didn't sit and wait for work to be handed to me. I learned that if I asked for work, and showed an eagerness to do different things outside of my job description, sooner or later I will be given a choice on what kind of work I wanted to do.

Over the summers and winters that I worked at that company, I learned how to do a lot of things. I had a very good understanding of how every aspect of business works, from Engineering to Marketing, to Legal to Accounts Payable. From an assistant's point of view all the way to the president of the company, I was fortunate to know what they go through on any given day. After graduating from college, I wound up owning my own business, because I had knowledge and confidence. Because I knew the big picture.

Years later, I visited that company, and took Claudette to lunch. I thanked her for being an amazing supervisor, and for being understanding and patient with me, and for allowing me to stretch my proverbial wings, even if I was only an intern. She said, "Why shouldn't I? You asked to do more. I wasn't about to stop you."

Do Not Bite the Hands That Help You Eat

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Thu, 13 Sep 2007 21:09:00 +0000

There's an old saying, "Do not bite the hand that feeds you." In terms of working for a company, that hand would be your employer, which is sometimes your boss. You are hired, assigned work, and most importantly, paid by your employer. Every employee knows that making your employer happy is top priority. Everyone knows that making your employer unhappy is an absolute no-no.

I think this is good thinking, but I want to take it one step further. I'd also like to say, "Do not bite the hands that help you eat."

I consider everyone I work with as other "hands" that help me make money. From my colleagues and co-workers, to my bank teller, to the office supply store stockroom worker, to the mailman, to the crossing guard lady. All of these people, in one way or another, contribute to my efficiency and work output, and sometimes, even my way of living. If they are having a great day, they will be better at helping me do what I need to get done. And if any of them are having a bad day, there's a greater chance that I, too, will suffer the consequences.

So whenever I have to deal with them, I do my best to make their lives a little better. Even if it's a simple transaction at the bank, I will ask the teller how she's doing, how her day has been going so far, and if there's anything I can do to make her job easier. When I meet with clients, I always ask them what kind of day they're having. If they're really tired and it's near the end of the day, I do my best to keep the meeting short and to the point so they can go home earlier. Regardless of who makes how much money, and who has a "higher" job classification, I do my best to listen, cooperate, and be sympathetic.

To me, this attitude isn't just "being a good person." It's also good business.

Thinking Outside the Pinata

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Fri, 27 Jul 2007 18:46:00 +0000

Somewhere in my parents' attic is a two-minute movie of my 9th birthday party, shot on 8mm film. Part of that movie was a snippet of the pinata game, where blindfolded kids would take turns swinging a stick to try and break the pinata, a papier mache hollow donkey which was filled with candy and suspended from a rope.

When the pinata broke and the candy fell to the ground below, all the children, as they are supposed to do, scrambled to grab as much of the fallen candy as their hands and arms and pockets could hold. If you've ever seen documentary footage of piranhas swarming over a wounded animal, it's similar to that, except it's a swarm of screaming kids.

Because I was the birthday boy, the camera followed me wherever I went. It followed me as I joined in and jumped into the pile of kids and candy. But soon after I jumped into the pile, something peculiar happened. The film shows me leaving the pile of kids, walking away and waving my arm in an "Ah, forget it!" attitude. Back then, when the grownups saw that movie, they asked me, "Why did you not get the candy like the other kids? Why did you give up?"

What the camera didn't show was me, two hours before the party, sitting at the kitchen table and watching as my dad loaded the pinata with three bags of candy. What the camera didn't show was me seeing that my dad had bought SIX bags of candy to fill the pinata, and because the pinata didn't have any more room, my dad had left the other three unopened bags of candy on the kitchen table.

Back at the broken pinata and pile of kids, as I jumped into the fray, I was already thinking to myself, "Why am I scrounging for dirty candy when there are three bags of it sitting in the kitchen?"

As a twenty-one year old college intern, I worked on a project where my employer charged the client $100/hour. I did all the work, and I was making $9/hour. At that moment, I thought to myself, "Why am I making $9/hour if I can do the same work and charge $50/hour, and still charge only half what my employer was charging?"

As a twenty-five year old at a Dodger game, I was in the middle of a scramble for a foul ball. People were spilling $20 worth of hot dogs, nachos and beer, to get at a $7 baseball.

There are pinata opportunities, and then there are outside the pinata opportunities. Thinking outside the pinata usually requires a bit more thinking, a bit more patience, and a bit less impulsive action.

It also helps knowing that there are three bags of candy sitting on the kitchen table.

Sticks and Stones

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Mon, 18 Jun 2007 03:54:00 +0000

At one point in my life, when I was trying to figure out who I am, what I'm about, and what I wanted to do, I wrote with a Sharpie marker on a wall next to my desk at home, so the writing would be hard to erase:

WHEN IN DOUBT, ACCOMPLISH

Accomplish is a very powerful word to me. It is immune from gossip, because gossip is just talk and doesn't really get anything done. Everyone can talk about me, what they think I am, what they think I'm capable of, but once I accomplish something, no one can take that away. No one can dispute that I've done it, and no one can doubt my skills regarding that task.

Accomplish has a goal. It forces me not to procrastinate, and prevents me from endlessly surfing the Internet without a purpose. If I'm on the Net with a goal, I accomplish that goal and move on. Period. That leaves me more time to get other things done. The more things I accomplish, the more things I can check off my to-do list, and the better I feel about myself.

Accomplish is allergic to "idle." Think about how many times somebody did something stupid because he was bored. And I've never heard anyone complain about a person who got things done. Of course, Accomplish is guaranteed to get me tired, but resting is that much sweeter because I have already been rewarded.

Accomplish is what makes each of my promises complete.

Something peculiar that I've noticed is that the more I get done, the less time I have to brag about it, because I'm too busy doing the next thing on my list. It's a good type of snowball effect. By focusing on accomplishing and not bragging about it, I'm building up my humility points as well.

The title of this blog is "Sticks and Stones," as in "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me." The same thing goes for accomplishments. They can call you every name in the book, but if you've accomplished something substantial, the name calling will slide right off of you. Better yet, because you're too busy getting things done, you'll probably never even have time to pay attention to them.

But enough talk. I think I got my point across, and I have a lot of work to do.

Red Button Room

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Fri, 15 Jun 2007 20:17:00 +0000

I am lucky to be working in America, to be able to choose my career here. In many parts of the world, the choices aren't as plenty. In many parts of the world, a person is often lucky just to have a job, any job.

Having said that, I have a scenario to tell, and a question to ask. I do this whenever someone asks me why I do what I do, even though, according to them, I could be doing something else with my skills, working at a job that pays a lot more money and has a lot more benefits.

Here's the scenario: you are approached by a billionaire, who has a job for you. The job pays one million dollars a year, after taxes.

There is a room that is completely empty except for one table and one chair. There are no windows looking to the outside, and all the walls are bare except for their white paint. There is no music playing, and the door to the room is to remain closed except when someone is entering or leaving. The room is temperature controlled, so you will never be too warm or too cold.

In the middle of the table is a red button. Your duty, as the employee of this billionaire, is to push that red button once every minute, eight hours a day, forty hours a week. That's all you have to do. But you are not allowed to read, write, listen to music, talk on the phone, or anything else while you are inside the room. You may only leave the room to take bathroom breaks. You may order any lunch, but it is brought to you, and you have to eat it inside the room. Basically, you are trapped inside this room for eight hours a day, forty hours a week, fifty weeks a year.

But the job pays a million dollars a year.

"Would you do it?" I would ask the person who originally asked me why I do what I do. So far, no one has said yes, and they know why. I think after a couple months of doing a job like this, a person would go crazy.

Why do I do what I do, even though it doesn't make as much money? Because I love what I'm doing. I am lucky to have clients who are decent people. I am lucky to work on projects that allow me to think, be creative, and solve problems.

I consider myself very lucky because, even though I don't make a million dollars a year, I am as far away from that red button room in terms of my work.

When I was just starting out, I used to think money was the most important factor in choosing a career. And then I got a well-paying job that reminded me of the red button room. I quit within four days. Quitting that job was one of the hardest choices I had to make in my life, but I knew I had to do it.

I also used to judge people, thinking that those who made more money, or who had more "prestigious" jobs, were better people than those who didn't. I don't think like that anymore.

I am lucky to be working. I am lucky to have a choice with my career. I am lucky to have a job that doesn't drive me crazy. I am lucky not to be in a red button room.

Confidence

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Wed, 18 Apr 2007 21:03:00 +0000

I used to think that I would be the last person who should be writing about confidence. I used to be shy and self-conscious, and was always worried about how others perceived me. I often second-guessed myself. As a college intern, I was so shy and unsure that it would take me an hour to muster up the confidence to make one quick phone call to another company.

I also thought that I'd be the last person who should be owning my own business, since that requires getting out there and finding clients on my own. It requires actually talking to strangers and, within an hour, proving to them that I am the best person for their project.

But accidents do happen. And in the same accidental way that I wound up owning a business, I also stumbled onto finding my confidence.

Confidence, to me, happened over time. Confidence is the result of years of honing my skills to the point where I knew myself well enough to be able to answer any question with authority and a definite "yes", or if necessary, a definite "no". Most importantly, when I didn't know an answer, I was confident enough to say "I don't know."

What I learned was people, including clients, prefer simple, straightforward answers. They like passion and conviction, and they can sense when I am telling the absolute truth, or when I'm fidgeting around trying to look for a good enough answer because I wasn't really sure.

The more I focused on simplifying my idea and the process, the better the projects turned out. The more I defined myself and what I do, the more confident I got.

But in order to define myself, I had to know my stuff, and that takes work.

By "work", I mean researching the market that I'm in. It means putting extra time into knowing my strengths and limitations. It means being honest with myself, what I'm capable of, and how I should be improving myself.

All of this "work" takes time. In fact, it takes so much time that, in addition to everything else that needs to get done on a daily basis, there's no time left for fidgeting around. There's time to be self-aware but no time to be self-conscious. There's time for productivity but no time for wasteful doubt.

After everything is said and done, there's only time for what really matters. And this is where I get my confidence--doing all that I can to do what needs to get done, being honest with myself in the process, and being simple and straightforward with my clients.

Other people may have other definitions for confidence, but this is mine. And I am confident in that answer.

"Human Being"

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Fri, 19 Jan 2007 22:46:00 +0000

I am lucky enough to own my own business. I am lucky enough to have clients that I think are decent people. And I am lucky enough to have experienced a moment in college that has since become an important part of how I conduct business.

During the first day of one of my art classes, our instructor walked into the room and said:

"My name is Frank Herrera. I want you to call me Frank. Even though we all know that art is subjective, I will be grading you with a letter grade, because the rules say that I have to. I will do my best to judge you by how much you've tried and improved throughout this semester. If you do your best to show up on time, and finish the assignments, and approach the class with enthusiasm and be there for your fellow students, you will almost always get a good grade."

"But there's something else I want all of you to know. Regardless of how important grades are, and what your curriculum demands of you, and how many other classes and assignments you will be expected to complete this semester, I want you to remember that all of you, all of us, are human beings."

"And since we are human beings, we are not perfect. We sometimes get sick, or have a real emergency that is more important than what goes on in this university. If that happens to any of you here, please, PLEASE tell me. If you are truthful about your emergency, I will understand and will let you make up your work. And since you know that I will treat you as a human being, I hope you'll do the same to me, and treat me with the same respect and consideration. Because I am also a human being."

Before that moment, I always thought that college was this place where a "teacher" taught you specific skills so that you can make a living, and after you left college, you went to this place called WORK, where you did your job and got a paycheck. I never thought about the "human being" part of it.

But it's there. Whether we like it or not, we are all human beings. We are human beings first, and employee-of-the-month second. We are human beings first, and straight-A student second. No matter what our grades are or how much money we make, or how much we want to make our career our first priority, we will never escape the fact that we are human beings.

This is how I try to approach every business transaction, every business conversation, every contract negotiation. No matter what the project is, I know that the people I am dealing with have bills to pay and children to feed. They have first names and nicknames, hobbies, favorite movies, and favorite restaurants. They have the same worries that I do, and it is my job as a human being to understand them as human beings.

When I first started my business, I had a naive, narrow, tunnel-vision approach. I had temporarily forgotten what Frank Herrera said. I conducted business "by the book", and didn't really pay attention to the human being-ness of my clients. If they didn't understand my by- the-book explanations, I assumed that it was their fault. If they didn't follow the by-the-book contract that we had drafted, then it was their fault. If they acted like people instead of businesspeople, I thought that they were doing something wrong. After all, personal is personal, and business is business, and the two shouldn't mix, right?

Wrong. The more I opened my eyes and took a really good look at the businesses that I dealt with, the more I realized how much human being-ness was around every office. The boss had a framed picture of her family at Disneyland sitting on her desk, and she kept a pack of Jello pudding in the office refrigerator in case her kids visited. The guard at the gate wore a Dodger cap when he wasn't wearing his uniform. The financial officer's wall cabinet was plastered with his three-year old's crayon drawings.

During one of those early business meetings, in the middle of negotiating with the company's chief administrator, I took a chance and commented on a small painting that was leaning against the back wall of his office. "Nice abstract painting. Did you do that?" I asked.

"My little daughter actually painted that," he said. "Pretty good for a ten-year old, huh?" And for the next five minutes, we talked about his daughter's painting. It was a nice little break from so much serious moneytalk. And it established, to both of us, that regardless of what happened with the project, whether my company got the contract or not, we regarded each other as human beings.

For me, the nice thing about doing this is even if I didn't get the project, at least I enjoyed being able to meet a new person, a new human being. And if I did get the project, then it was bonus that I also got to know another human being.

And so now, whenever I meet with a client, in addition to learning as much as I can about their project, I will do my best to understand him or her as a human being. Because in case the going gets rough during the project, like if we have a disagreement, I will remember that we are both human beings. Neither of us is perfect, and it's probably just a misunderstanding, or we have to figure out a way to compromise. Sometimes we have to figure out a new way to solve a problem, and not always go "by the book", like preprogrammed machines do. Unlike machines, we can adjust ourselves and make new rules to fit the situation, to meet the personal needs of each person involved. We can do this because we are human beings.

It Ain't Over Til It's Over

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Thu, 18 Jan 2007 00:55:00 +0000

Maybe Mrs. Bergquist was trying to tell me something that day. That if I persevered long enough, and had enough patience, and didn't limit myself in my skills and outlook, that good things would eventually happen. This is a true story.

At the end of my fifth grade year in elementary school, our teacher Mrs. Bergquist gave awards to students that she thought excelled in a specific category. The awards were handmade ribbons made of cloth and construction paper. It was a nice gesture to her students, and there were always enough awards so that every person got one. There was an award for best speller, another award for best kickball player, and another award for best speaker, you get the idea.

Mrs. Bergquist, to heighten the excitement (just like the Academy Awards ceremonies), waited until the end to give the three most notable awards. Those awards were for the best art student, best english student, and best math student. She would say, "This award goes to the student that I think will make an outstanding mathematician!" and call that person's name, and the kids would cheer.

Since my name hadn't been called yet, and since it was nearing the end of the awards ceremony, I figured I'm due up soon. So I waited.

"This award goes to the student that I think will make an outstanding mathematician!" And she called somebody else's name.

"This award goes to the student that I think will make an outstanding writer!" And she called somebody else's name.

"This award goes to the student that I think will make an outstanding artist!"

And...she called somebody else's name.

I thought to myself, "There are no awards left. Did I not do very well this year?" My classmates, all of whom were already holding their awards, looked at me with the same look that I was feeling. Moments passed, and just as we were about to leave for summer break, Mrs. Bergquist leaned behind her desk and said:

"Oh look, I almost forgot this one!"

What?

"There's one more award that I decided to give this year. I've never given this award before, but this year I'll make an exception."

What?

"This award goes to the student that I think will be great at WHATEVER he wants to do in life."

And she gave the award to me.

To this day, I still remember that moment. I still remember the smell of the blue construction paper and how BIG that award looked. I still remember my classmates cheering for me until the sound became hypnotic. I floated out of that classroom and floated into summer vacation, knowing that I can do anything. Thank you, Mrs. Bergquist.

If I persevered long enough, and had enough patience, and didn't limit myself in my skills and outlook, I can do anything.

The Adjustable Entrepreneur

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Mon, 16 Oct 2006 22:42:00 +0000

Here's a speech I gave at the Virtual Enterprise opening ceremony at South Pasadena High School, October 5, 2006.

---

I'd originally written a speech that talked about hope and the future, and how you should be looking forward to becoming a better person, yadda yadda yadda. And then I remembered that I would be giving this speech to a roomful of high school kids wearing uncomfortable suits at 9 in the morning, all of whom have probably already heard or read speeches about hope and the future, and the last thing you want to hear right now is more of the same. As they say in business, "It was then that I reassessed my action plan." And so I bring flash cards. I'm going to talk about Being Adjustable.

What are flash cards about? Well, for one thing, it means you come prepared. You have your bullet points, your important topics to cover, and you didn't have to embellish them with unnecessary words.

That's a good thing. The bad thing is you only have fragments of complete sentences in these cards, so you have to piece together these bullet points into a coherent message. And no, I'm not that good, which is why I have everything written out beforehand.

But if you manage to pull it off, using flash cards says something about you. It says that you've done your homework enough to where you can probably do a presentation without these cards, but you're bringing them anyway because you want to be thorough. It also says that you have a system of organization. Your topics are laid out, prioritized, color-coded and laminated!

But what I really like about flash cards is that they don't necessarily have to be in any order. You can skip around, switch cards, regroup topics, so that you're not stuck in one linear way of thinking. It forces you to be Adjustable. Flexible. Adaptable. It even forces you, sometimes, to come up with a totally new idea during your presentation. Something that you haven't prepared for. And that's scary!

You wanna hear a scary story? For my industrial design senior thesis in college, we had to present our ideas in front of professionals, sort of what you're doing today. My idea was for a telescoping electric lady shaver that was designed for older or disabled women who wanted to shave their legs but couldn't reach down far enough. So I made a mockup of the telescoping electric lady shaver, all painted with actual shaver parts, and I presented my idea to a group of design professionals.

In the middle of the demonstration, my model broke in half.

It took about a second for the blood to leave my brain, travel to the tips of my toes, and surge back up again to my brain, after which I realized that my audience was still looking at me, my graduation depended on this moment, and fainting was not an option.

So I said to my audience, "Nevermind this model, what you really want to see is how it works." And that's when I took out a cardboard working model of the telescoping electric lady shaver, and proceeded to show how the telescoping part works.

The coolest part of all this was after I was done, the professionals who watched my presentation came up to me and were more interested in talking about how I salvaged the moment. They told me that models break all the time, and what was really interesting is how I kept going, and figured out a way to not let the accident stop me.

If it hasn't happened already, there's a chance that this moment will happen to you. The big question is, do you know your product well enough so that you can improvise in the middle of your presentation? Do you believe in your product well enough so that even if everything else goes wrong, you'll be able to convince your audience that your product is worth their money? And most important--do you believe in yourself enough so that you will spend the time and effort, and do the homework, so that you can present yourself, as well as your product, in the best possible way?

Reading typed words directly from a sheet of paper during a presentation will not allow you to gauge your audience. It will not allow you to skip, stop, rewind, shuffle around, and reassess. It will not allow you the freedom of improvisation.

Will you be linear (typed sheet) or multi-dimensional (flash cards)? Will you be a reader (typed sheet) or a presenter (flash cards)? Will you simply follow words (typed sheet) or will you come up with new ones on the fly (flash cards)?

Will you be a rigid employee, or an adjustable entrepreneur?

Something Funny Happened on the Way to My Future

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Sun, 30 Jul 2006 21:17:00 +0000

I was supposed to be an engineer. I was raised to be an engineer. I was supposed to graduate college with an electrical engineering major, get a job that will allow me to own a Lexus, get married at age 23, have 2 kids, and barbeque on weekends in the backyard of my 3-bedroom home. It was all set.

But something funny happened on the way there. English happened. Art happened. The World Wide Web happened. And I listened to my instincts instead of my predetermined career objectives.

During Miss Rueweller's english composition class in 10th grade, I learned that I could write poems. Now, poems have nothing to do with engineering. Poems have nothing to do with making a living (or so I thought at that time). But writing poems was FUN. Also during Miss Rueweller's class, I learned that I can write a decent story and that I can communicate an idea clearly. And it was FUN.

During my senior year in high school in architecture class, I designed and built a model of a 2-story house, complete with drafted blueprints and schematics, which won at a local competition. Architecture was a bit closer to, but still wasn't, electrical engineering. But creating and building a house was FUN.

But I heard that making a living wasn't about having fun. It was about doing something tedious and boring for 40+ hours a week for the rest of my life. If it was fun, why would someone want to pay you for it?

And what about happiness? My happiest and most successful semester in college was when I got straight A's in four classes that had absolutely nothing to do with engineering. I took these classes to fulfill some General Education (GE) requirements. The classes were Poetry Writing, Rapid Visualization, Short Story Composition, and Class Voice. For one semester, I wrote poems and stories, sketched quick ideas and original inventions, and sang.

Fun and Happiness vs. Making a Good Living. To others, it's an easy choice, but to me it was tough. I had to choose between being rich and miserable or being happy and not having all the toys that I want. I liked being happy but I also liked toys.

So what did I ultimately do? I compromised. I switched majors and graduated with an industrial design degree, which in my mind was a compromise between art and engineering, appeasing my own happiness as well as my family's. And soon after graduation, I realized that compromises don't work, because I had no urge to work as an industrial designer for the rest of my life.

What I really wanted to do was a combination of all those FUN classes I took in high school and college, that let me write, draw, and think creatively. If it also let me sing, that would be bonus.

And then the Internet happened, and along with it the World Wide Web. All of a sudden there was this place that let me design web sites, write the words and content that will go into these web pages, and even (thank you, .mp3 format) let me sing.

Am I lucky? Yes, I think so, very much. But I'm also glad that I listened to my instincts instead of simply going by the book. It's taken a long time, but I'm doing something that I enjoy, that people (bless their hearts) are willing to pay me for, and that is FUN.

Disclaimer: There is absolutely nothing wrong with electrical engineering or any other type of engineering. The world absolutely needs engineers, and they are vital to our welfare. Some people have a blast being engineers. I have no idea how they do it, but they do, and I think that's cool.

Shyness and College: Do I Dare Disturb the Universe?

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Wed, 05 Apr 2006 16:04:00 +0000

Whenever I think of shyness, I remember this passage from T. S. Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock:

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair--
[They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin--
[They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?

This is how I felt going into college. Do I dare disturb the universe?

In addition to this new world called a university, with its massively larger group of people than my high school, its enormous classrooms that are now called lecture halls or auditoriums, in addition to the seemingly unlimited options on what classes to take, when to take them, and in what order, I was, on top of all this, shy.

As a shy person, all I wanted to do was take the "right" classes, get decent grades, graduate, then get a job. Quietly, quietly, quietly. I would aim to take classes either early in the morning or later in the day, or take Friday classes, when there were less people on campus. Going to my 12:30pm class, I chose to walk a longer route than have to go through what I called "the gauntlet" of people having lunch in front of the cafeteria. I would walk staring down at the ground in front of me, looking up only to make sure that I didn't run into anybody.

By living this way, I missed a lot of great opportunities. What I didn't realize back then was what college really offered, and it wasn't only a degree. It took me years to realize it, but the answer lies in the question asked: do you dare disturb the universe?

College is the opportunity to disturb the universe. It is your best opportunity to find out anything about anything, including yourself. It is your best forum to hear and be heard, and one of the few chances in life where you will be surrounded by the most knowledgeable, open-minded people you will ever meet. Whenever you feel intimidated by a class or an instructor, always remember that the classes and the instructors are there to serve you. You paid for this, and you should get your money's worth.

But you must also put some effort at getting the most out of college, especially if you're shy.

Don't Just Sit There, Disturb the Universe through Discussion

One of the biggest ways that college is different from high school is the greater opportunity for open discussion. Your instructor isn't just someone who will feed you ideas, then ask you to regurgitate those ideas back during a test. It is your job to absorb, then digest these ideas, think for yourself, maybe come up with a different perspective or expand on the original ideas, and be able to discuss these ideas with your instructor.

If you're shy, and especially in a large lecture hall, you will have a tendency to let your fellow classmates do the talking. Don't do this, because (a) you probably won't get all the answers you're looking for, (b) you won't pay as much attention because you're not right in the middle of the discussion, and (c) time passes much faster if you're engaged in a good conversation. During a 3-hour class, (c) becomes even more important.

And if you're going to discuss, it's best to sit near the instructor, which means closer to the front of the class. If you're shy, this will be terrifying. But sitting in the back of a class that you paid for and is there to serve you is like buying a car and letting someone else drive it. You're not getting the full experience, and it's not as fun.

Disturb the Universe through Participation

Join a club, whether it's the Shy People Who've Read the da Vinci Code club, or the Shy People Who Tweak Their iPods club, or the Shy People Who Talk About Quantum Physics club. Yes, I'm being facetious, but you'll be surprised at how many shy people are in clubs, and how many of them are more shy than you. Many of these clubs have clubhouses and offices, and if for no other reason, joining them means that you have a place to hang out in between classes. A clubhouse could also be your home away from home, a place that you can sort of call your own.

Joining a club means that you will probably find yourself volunteering for (being suckered into) a group event, which will force you to interact with other people. The more you interact with people, the less shy you'll be.

Disturb the Universe through Exploration

If you're shy, you'll tend to stick to tried-and-true ways, including tried-and-true paths to and from your classes. Once in a while, do some exploration of your campus. Walk around areas that have nothing to do with your intended major. Eat your lunch under a different tree, park your car in a different space. Some classes, especially art classes, are sometimes held outside so the students can draw the scenery. Sit near the students, and if you feel like it, talk to one of them and ask what they're drawing.

If you get the chance, take a class that has absolutely nothing to do with your major, but sounds like it might be interesting. Speaking of which...

Taking the Dreaded Speech/Communication Class

It took me four tries before I was comfortable enough to stay in a speech class. The first three tries, I attended the first couple weeks, and then when it came time to do an actual presentation in front of the class, I dropped the course. My advice to you is to suck it up and just go through that first presentation. You may feel like you want to die, but trust me, you won't. After the first time you laugh in that class, everything will change. You may even like it to the point where you wish more of your classes were just like your speech class. I know I did.

Disturb the Universe in Yourself

Shyness has a lot to do with being self-conscious. As a shy person, you are conscious of your world, of yourself, of how you think other people are perceiving you. The trick is not to focus on yourself, but to take yourself out of the equation and look outward, at this new universe called college, and see what it is made of. The more you get to know your college, the less you will worry about yourself. College is like a playground for your mind, so play in it. It is an infinite resource of opportunity, and you have access to it. By discussing, participating, and exploring this new universe, you will disturb it in a good way. And in doing so, you will disturb your shyness, maybe even getting rid of it altogether.

Do you dare disturb the universe?

Distractions and the Donut Maker

noreply@blogger.com (Schoolguides) — Mon, 03 Apr 2006 16:33:00 +0000

On some weekend nights, I would buy a box of donuts to drop off at my parents' house. My parents and their friends, all of whom are already retired or about to retire, often play mahjong as an excuse to gather around the kitchen table and exchange stories collected during the past week. Sometimes they wind up not playing mahjong at all, especially when the TV is on and the Lakers are playing a good game. Or when someone brings over a box of donuts.

Last Friday night, I drove to the local donut shop, walked in the store, took out my five dollars, and waved to the donut maker through the glass that separates the room with the donut making machine from the front of the shop. The donut maker looked like he's in college, and probably the oldest son of the owner. He waved back, disappeared for a moment, probably to wipe his hands, then came into the front of the shop to help me with the donuts.

After paying him, I pointed to the back room and asked, "Are you making those donuts for tomorrow morning?" He wiped his forehead with his arm, and as he walked back to the machine room, said, "That's just how it is in the donut business." He didn't say it proudly, and he didn't say it with resentment. It simply was his job, and it had to get done.

As I drove to my parents' house, I thought about what the donut maker said, and how he said it. I wondered if he even thought about all the options he had in terms of what he could be doing at that moment, on a Friday night, instead of working a donut machine.

And then I thought about my own self, and how I sometimes look for a way out when I'm faced with doing something that I'm not going to enjoy. I thought about how many hours I've wasted putting something off instead of just doing it. How I often lose focus on what I was doing because of distractions--the telephone, e-mail, music, chitchat, that "errand" that wasn't really necessary--the list goes on.

The donut maker doesn't have those distractions. The donut maker can't afford to have those distractions. He's in a room with a big machine, and he has to make a certain number of donuts before sunrise, or else he loses business.

My parents and their friends are enjoying or about to enjoy healthy retirements. I'm sure that all of them were tempted by distractions during their school and working years. But I'm sure that they didn't let those things get in the way, or else they wouldn't be where they are now. They had to get things done, and they did them.

I wanted to write this entry. I knew that I had to finish this within a certain amount of time. And so I turned the television and my cell phone off, and typed.