Defining Life Experience: The LinkedIn Dilemma
Soon before college graduation, my father sent me an excited
email. “You are almost a college
graduate. How does your LinkedIn
profile look?” With my father’s
guidance, I updated my profile, combining the pride of my resume with the
online ease of Facebook. As I
navigated my changing employment opportunities, I quickly learned how to
operate my LinkedIn, updating and adding new jobs, experience and technical
skills as they happened.
My parents enjoy being “tech savvy”, my Mom with her
Facebook (and email, and ipad, and macbook) and my dad with his LinkedIn. While my Mom rarely posts to the ‘book,
she is a professional “Facebook stalker”.
When living in the states, periodically I would get phone calls: “Annie,
did you hear so-and-so is pregnant?
Do you know who the father is?”
“Mom, I’m at work, can we talk when I get home?”
“Yeah, baby, I just wanted to let you know. She’s pregnant! Wasn’t she on your student council or
something?”
“No, but baby daddy was,” and I would hang up.
My father uses his social networking experience for
something completely different.
One night, coming home from my first post-grad job, my dad told me to
get my computer. “Let’s get you a
LinkedIn.”
We spent the next hour, hunched over my laptop, figuring out
what work experience goes where and how to define my personal experience and
eventually, I gave up. “Dad, I’ll
look at it when I have free time at work.”
And so I did. Now,
I am now fairly LinkedIn savvy.
That’s one of my favorite parts about this generation: give us enough
time with something technological, we’ll figure it out. Kind of like how we all knew to blow on
gameboy games when they started skipping.
My resume has always been a point of pride. I have at least three copies on my
computer currently – the one with every little bit of experience (now including
the Peace Corps KSAs – Knowledge, Skill, Aptitude), the one I turned into the
Peace Corps, and one that is easily adaptable for quick review. I update it regularly, with every
little thing I can include. But
after a week in Panama City, with real internet, I tried to update my LinkedIn
account in the same way. Here is
the dilemma:
Peace Corps experience is almost in-definable. Yes, there are many tangibles –
successful recycling project, endangered species management work, Spanish
language fluency – but where the problem lies is in the intangibles. I convince a group of people to try a
new approach to something; gardening, income generation or cooking, but what do
I call that? I can build a more
energy efficient outdoor stove (fogon),
but in the States, when will I need to do that? I can facilitate a meeting full of angry poachers and
angrier protection activists in my second language, but does that have a name?
More than half of my Peace Corps experience is barely
definable in the first world, and can only be summed up in the , PCV behind my
name. Those three letters mean all
the things I can’t otherwise define.
This generation of young adults are quickly becoming known as the Global
Generation. Most of us have
passports, and a significant number have lived abroad. Our work – and life – experience are so
different from our predecessors and it’s still being defined. To us, work and life are intertwined to
a point that our resumes should include all of it. “Lived in Rome for 2 months in a hostel”, “Tended bar while
studying for the bar”, “Played guitar and sang in the subway in Spain”, “Made
jewelry out of recycled materials”, “Composted in my backyard in the middle of
a city” or “Had a mini herb garden on the two foot balcony of my
apartment”. All of these should be
included on our resumes, in our LinkedIn accounts, but where?
When will “Life Experience” be a standard subheading on a
resume?
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