Holly Via Gorski

Last night I was complaining to my husband that my latest Women of HR post only had one comment while the post before it had 15.

“. . .Of course,” I continued, “the post before it was about authenticity in social media — being read by a bunch of people who participate in social media –and my post is about systems theory, using a dental practice as an example.”

He looked at me. “Uh-huh.”

In case you’d like to read it anyway (and I hope you do), here’s the link:

The Tale of Discount Dental

At work we offer two dental plans. The first one is the plan you hear jaunty radio ads for; the name-brand plan. Nearly all of our employees choose it. The second plan is the discount, HMO-type dental plan that yeah, we offer, but very few employees select. The second plan has a bad reputation . . .

I am proud to be among the contributing writers for the Women of HR blog. It’s a wonderful site run by some smart, funny women I first met two or three years ago on Twitter. (There are a ton of fabulous HR professionals on Twitter.) They’ve run two of my pieces so far and I expect another one to go up in about three weeks.

It’s been a change for me to write about Human Resources, because I usually write to escape Human Resources as a self-definition. I’ve heard that in Jane Austen’s time it was considered terribly rude to ask what one did for a living and that’s one of the few things I wish had survived from those days.

I’m not ashamed of the work I do, don’t get me wrong – HR is important and most of the time, I think I do it well – but inside of me is a teenager who insisted her high school keyboarding class was a complete waste of time because it wasn’t like she was going to work in an office. As if! I write to keep that girl quiet; to help her feel proud of herself once in a while.

Thanks to the Women of HR I’ve had a chance to write creatively about my profession. I enjoy it. Here are the two pieces I have up so far, if you’re interested:

The Female Version of John Wayne – On businesswomen who thrived before EEO laws were in place/enforced.

On Labor and Chocolate – How the story of Cadbury chocolate reminded me of the importance of the labor movement.

If you go, stick around! Don’t just read my stuff. Everything on the site is well-written and worth your time.

I’m pregnant and right now I’m also sick, so I nap a lot. This afternoon I dreamt that I had to collect everyone’s retirement incentive responses via Facebook.

The first problem with this is that I deleted my Facebook account several months ago, because I hate it. I have enough trouble keeping up with my real social obligations without feeling guilty for not tending other people’s virtual gardens or sending them enough clever bumper stickers.

The second problem with this is . . . NOOOO, DON’T MAKE ME WORK THROUGH FACEBOOK!!! . . . . Ahem.

Anyway, I woke up amused by the idea of creating a “Human Resources” Facebook account with spying eyes as the avatar and then sending friend requests to all of the employees at my organization, just to see what they would do. Mwha ha ha! Catbert hits Web 2.0.

Ahhh, I’ll save that one for the “someday” list. It has possibilities.

Human Resources people and employment attorneys should be smart enough not to tell you a dirty joke, but we do get a chuckle out of stupid or crazy employment law cases. Yesterday at the NPELRA conference Legal Update session, the presenter referenced the National Law Journal's top 10 wackiest employment law cases.

The article is worth reading, although I think the stories are funnier in the hands of a good storyteller like yesterday's speaker. My favorite in terms of irony is #10: a maternity clothing store that refused to hire pregnant women, but I also appreciate #2: a woman fired for doing nothing who kept an elaborate journal recording just that. I can imagine someone inadvertently creating such a record (by posting all day on non-work message boards, for example), but on purpose? Here's a quote:

I am tremendously bad at networking. This is ironic because I love to talk and usually have no trouble meeting people. As anyone who knows me in person or from Twitter knows, I can talk about my kids, my pets, books, what’s on TV, yap yappity yap yap all day long. Yet put a business card in my hand and I clam up. (I’m trusting you not to use this knowledge for evil, a.k.a. tell my husband.)

I have a difficult time talking to people if I want something from them. I feel and act awkward: I don’t know how to go about it. I love Avon products and have tried to be an Avon rep twice, but I can’t do it. I feel bad asking people to buy things.

All this is groundwork for me asking you to do something (but it won’t cost a dime): join the JobAngels movement. JobAngels is an online network of professionals, each committed to helping just one person find a job. It was started less than a month ago by HR professional (and Twitter friend of mine) Mark Stelzner over his morning bowl of cornflakes. Not one of us can individually fix “the unemployment problem,” but each of us could try to connect one unemployed person with a job opportunity. Imagine if all of us did just that.

Earlier this evening I contacted three people (current and former colleagues) and asked them directly if they knew of job opportunities in their field on behalf of a JobAngels job seeker. This was a huge step for me, but I know people who network so naturally they could do that with one eye open while hitting the snooze button at 6:00 AM. Are you one of them? Could you help one person find a job?

Will you?

Twitter – Follow @jobangels and search the #jobangels for work opportunities or people in need of their own JobAngel
Facebook – JobAngels on Facebook
LinkedIn – JobAngels Group

I recently made a list of all the types of jobs I had before going into Human Resources. It’s fair to say that my early “career” fit Wayne Campbell’s description of his own: I had an extensive collection of nametags and hairnets.

The list is mildly interesting, so I’ll post it at the end, but what I really want to talk about are the moments from old jobs that have sprung to mind in the past few days. Moments like this:

Comparing driving experience with another 15-yr-old girl to see who was best qualified to drive the catering van across town after we had been abandoned by the adult on the job. She drove and we both shook the entire way. When we got back to the caterer’s kitchen it had been closed by the Department of Health.

Singing “Black Velvet” at the top of my lungs while I collected grocery carts in an empty parking lot on a hot summer night. (“Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell . . . .”)

Learning that the friendly janitor I had sold cigarettes to almost daily (two soft packs of Benson & Hedges light menthols, which he ordered by simply smiling and saying, “Two” while holding up his fingers in a peace sign) had suddenly died of lung cancer.

Listening to Oprah’s TV show on the radio (instead of studying) as the sun streamed in through the windows of the parking lot booth.

Giving myself a little pep talk in the bathroom mirror while on break during the first week of my first office job after college. It went something like, “Suck it up and get used to it, Girly, because you’re going to be working 40 hours a week from now on.” I’ll never forget the ridiculous tiny blue suit I wore, nor how horrible it felt to realize I’d be chained to a desk for years to come.

There’s more, but I have to get back to my present job. I’ll leave you with the list:

Babysitter, parade film vendor, catering assistant, cashier, grocery bagger, talk radio host, salesclerk, engraver, milkshake maker, Avon lady, parking lot attendant, encyclopedia salesperson, bookseller, receptionist, check processor, retail manager, and secretary.