Dear Ol' UVA...

I needed some time to compile my thoughts and comments from my recent Homecoming visit to UVa - so for those of you who were looking for it. Here it is.
Homecoming weekend at Uva... Driving down I-95 onto Alderman, guided by the giant V and two sabers inked into the road we entered a place we called home for four years. It felt as though we entered a bubble. It was a cultural capsule where it seemed nothing had changed and yet coming from out of town, there was a solemn cloud that followed us, a gentle reminder that this wasn't the real world. It's clear after being in the workplace for two years, UVa was a utopia. You don't really have to deal with adult issues, all of the rent/utilities/billing were spoon fed to you, none of your interactions were multi-level (i.e. work relationships), people can wear cowboy boots and dresses and it's more of a dress code than a fashion faux-pas; oh and singing the Good Ol' Song made everyone feel like one happy community. No wonder we feel duped...I'm not the only person that looked blankly at a fax machine or another esoteric office tool and thought: why didn't I take a class for this? That's what we need a "Real Life 101" that teaches you how to: deal with taxes, office politics, weird roommates, missing landlords, rental agreements, real crime that can't be solved with the honor code... and the list goes on.
I can't decide if the shielding of the real world from the current Wahoos is just an extension of their childhood or the set up for the first of many rude awakenings they will experience in adulthood. For example: at UVa you can feasibly, work, party, study, eat healthy, stay fit, and get enough sleep to do it all again the next day. Guess what? In the real world the routine is sacrificed for things that are considered survival tactics - eating whatever you can find, sleeping when you can, and working for food and shelter. When we were on the Range before the football game, you could still see the flicker of innocence in the eyes of the undergrads, an age of believing and where ignorance is bliss.
It was a great weekend, but returning to grounds and looking at versions of myself pre-real world, was bittersweet. On one hand UVa is now a place we can never go back to without bringing in bias, on the other hand it was a nice reset button to know that in a world that is constantly changing there are some consistencies.

Great minds, don't think about gas stations.

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This past week I joined some of my younger wahoos at the Get On the Street networking event at Public House. Get On the Street a the University of Virginia is an on grounds organization (student run) that creates a connection between current students and alumni that are in the corporate jobs. Not surprisingly, most corporate and communication jobs are lacking in the diversity department (specs of pepper in a mound of salt, if you catch the drift). The purpose of this initiative is to change that! Of course, when a friend reached out to me about it - this is exactly the type of program I'd love to lend a hand to.
Anyhoo, talking to some of these fourth years reminded me of my interview experiences and getting my feet wet in the marketing/communications world! My first interview was with a search marketing company in Charlottesville, Va-  I was a third year at the time and I had no idea what to expect. I thought it was going to be thinking of clever tags for articles so they would show up in Google at the top of the search results list ... wrong. Apparently, you have to be good in math to be in search marketing. When I arrived they decided to test my skills with excel formulas (fail), then they sent me to a room with 5 chairs and a dry erase board. When the 5 suits entered the room, I was asked to figure out how many ping-pongs would fit in the room. I wasn't privy to the size of the room OR the size of a ping pong for that matter. Needless to say I started to tell jokes about how great I was at math  - my interviewed turned into a Friday night comedy routine. Five minutes later with my not so future employers entertained; they said - "Danielle, let's forget the ping pong balls, how many gas stations are there in the United States?" No joke. Blank stare. They were serious! I made up some lame story about how I was from a town with two gas stations and I'm sure that wasn't indicative of an average US city, so I didn't have a good perspective to answer the question.  Embarrassed, discouraged and disjointed - I went to my car and cried. Granted, these types of interview questions aren't expected to be spot on they really just want to see how you think - unfortunately, I never think about gas stations.

So a note to my young readers, just getting out there and getting their feet wet: if you think you had a bad interview, think of this one ... it could be worse and I'm still alive and working!