Gen Y: Challenging the stereotype of entitlement

Sharalyn Hartwell is a national journalist at Examiner.com covering all topics related to Gen Y. She kicked off a month-long series today called Gen Y Gives Thanks, a project focused on combating the negative stereotype that Gen Y is ungrateful.

Speaking of gratitude, thank you to Sharalyn for challenging the Gen Y haters and for allowing me to contribute to this project.

No one would dispute that parents want the best for their children. Boomers were noted for wanting that so much, they often over indulged their children--Gen Y. Some experts believe that indulgence played a primary role in Gen Y’s propensity for ingratitude.

But, this isn’t necessarily so. The generosity of our parents may actually teach us gratitude and humility.

Gina Valo, a 26 year-old from Ann Arbor, Mich., is the perfect example. She says she has learned immense lessons in gratitude because of the things her parents gave her.

“I do not come from a particularly wealthy or well-educated lineage, but growing up I always knew I would go to an excellent college and my parents would foot the bill. They both worked extremely hard to save for my education and except a few chores, my sole responsibility was to focus on school.

I'm embarrassed to admit this, but at the time I thought this was the norm and felt that earning straight As entitled me to a free ride to the school of my choice..."

Read the full article

Job Change: With Risk Comes Reward

I made a job change recently, which seems to have garnered a bit of judgment from the outside. I went from working for a company at the top of the Fortune 100 list to a local news startup organization. Sure, lots of people leave cushy jobs to join startups, but in this economy where newspapers are already in a downward spiral? Yes, it's a big risk, but so is complacency in your career (now I'm the judgmental one...).

Staying at Google would have been an easy choice. What's not to love about lava lamps and free lunch? Actually, I could give you a list, but I know better than to burn bridges with the man. At some point I had to ask myself what value I was creating for the organization and whether or not it was mutually beneficial. The truth is that, while I was good at my job, it was a waste of my talents. I learned to do one thing really well, but the only thing I created was ad revenue. The one exception was my assignment in India, which gave me a chance to identify inefficiencies and exercise my problem solving abilities.

Had I stuck around longer I could have been "promoted" to the exact same role only with 'manager' in the title and a little extra cash in my pocket. What I needed was a new India, so to speak, minus the constant heartburn and indigestion. I'm only in week three at AnnArbor.com, so the jury is still out, but based on what I know this organization has the potential to set a new precedent for local news and advertising. And guess whose job it is to make sure that happens...

Any job change comes with new challenges, a chance to develop new skills, and an entirely new network. I would argue that these are the very reasons why people should move around every so often. It's good for them and good for employers. The days of the corporate lifer are over - one of many reasons why The Office is so ridiculously funny. Nobody wants to be the next Michael Scott or Dwight Shrute, but dressing up a workspace in kindergarten colors and exercise balls doesn't make one immune. It doesn't matter where you work, you have to act as your own agent because it's no one's job to look out for you (not even your manager - they have their own careers to worry about).

Speaking of jobs and careers, it's important to point out that the two words are not synonymous. A job is what you do to pay the bills, but your career is your total output. I look at everything I do as career development; working, studying, volunteering, blogging, tweeting, yelping, yoga-ing, etc. I would even extend my definition of career to encompass the choices we make about marriage and family. Finding the right teammate - or choosing to go it alone - is essential to personal success and fulfillment, as is the decision of whether or not to have children. Being a spouse, parent, or even a premature Old Maid (which I happen to be an expert on) requires a certain amount of creativity, resourcefulness, and problem solving skills.

Looking at my job as only one single aspect of my career helped make the transition a lot easier. What I had expected to be a life-altering earth-shattering event turned out to be a mild disruption in my daily routine. This is not to belittle the role my job plays in my life and overall happiness, but rather a way to keep it in perspective as only one piece of a much bigger puzzle - where the whole is greater than the sum of the parts.

I know my decision will continue to raise eyebrows, but it's obvious to me that I made the right one. Along with the risk comes greater responsibility, opportunity, and creative license, not to mention a fancy 'manager' title and a little extra cash in my pocket.

The World is Your Dressing Room

I swear months will pass without a single date and as soon as I become preoccupied with work or a new project, they suddenly come crawling out of the woodwork. It's almost as if they can sense my waning emotional availability. Some people call this the Law of Attraction. I call it Murphy's Law of dating.

Despite the fact that I'm facing a career transition and generally busy enough to warrant a complete meltdown, I have been going on a lot of first dates lately; some good, some awkward, and some I didn't realize were dates until I was actually on them.

I just spent my Saturday night at the dollar theater seeing back to back chick flicks with a girlfriend and can honestly say that it was the best date I have had in a long time. She asked me out a day in advance, let me pick the movie, picked me up at my door, and paid for the entire thing ($13.50 bought both of us admission to The Proposal and The Ugly Truth plus a large popcorn and Diet Pepsi with two straws and free refills). Seriously, what more could a girl ask for?

Given my recent history, the lack of excitement in my dating life is more of a relief than a disappointment. At the very least I have met some interesting people, but the problem is that they have either been geographically challenging (I'm genetically predisposed to having feelings for men who live in California and New York) or have simply been luke warm dates.

So what should you do when you know it's not going anywhere? Do you continue to date until something better comes along? Break it off entirely to avoid any future drama? Slowly phase them out to spare both of you the awkward conversation?

There's a side to dating that is inherently selfish. To a certain extent, we're all just waiting until something better comes along. There's a part of me that believes all is fair in love and war, but that doesn't give us free reign to be reckless with other peoples' hearts (thank you, Baz Luhrmann).

Dating is just like shopping for designer jeans at T.J. Maxx. You have to sort through a lot of junk, try on a bunch of styles, and hope you find a pair that makes your ass look good. Even if nothing fits, at least you know you're getting a bargain.

My advice? Treat the world as your dressing room. If something doesn't fit, be polite and put it back on the rack in one piece for someone else to find. It's okay to take something home to try it on in front of your own mirror, but try not to put anything on hold unless there's really a chance you'll come back for it. When you find something worth keeping, treat it well so it lasts forever, and always, always save your receipt.


gv

A Sign or a Fluke? You Decide.

My mom called me up the other day to tell me she had a ribbon on her head. Not the kind of ribbon you tie around your head, but that she literally had the shape of the breast cancer pink ribbon on the back of her head. Given the fact that she is bald as a baby from chemotherapy right now, my first reaction was to ask,

"What's it made out of?"

"What do you mean what's it made out of? It's my head."

"Well, is it like bone or skin or hair stubble? What is it that is making the ribbon shape?"

"It's my skull. It looks like a ribbon, like a symbol of the cure, you have to see it."

I know what you're thinking right now, because it was exactly what I was thinking, and what everyone else who has heard my mother tell this story was thinking... she's nuts. It must be all the drugs she's on.

"Mom, are you sure? I don't think I believe you."

"No, I know, no one believes me until I show them. Even your sister can see it and so can [insert the most cynical person you know] ! It's the sign of the cure and I think my prayers have been answered."

Still skeptical, I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, especially after knowing my sister was on board. We tend to be each other's litmus test for crazy things my mom says. She tried to take a picture of it for me, but it didn't turn out. I explained that they needed a camera with a macro setting, but neither one of them are very gadget-friendly. I bet her that if it actually existed I would be able to take a picture of it. Next thing I know my mom has a weekend trip to Ann Arbor planned.

I took one look at the back of her head on Saturday and spotted it immediately. It was a huge pink ribbon shape formed out of her skull - and so obvious that there is no way we would have missed this since her hair fell out in May. Don't believe me? Check out this picture.

I'm a spiritual person, but I'm not one to proselytize my faith. Is it a sign? Is the cancer gone? Or was she simply dropped on her head as a child? You decide.

As for my family and me, we have chosen to be optimistic from the very beginning, moving forward with our lives as though this were a tiny hiccup in our plans. We have remained strong and calm throughout, perhaps with the guidance of an innate sense that this too shall pass.