7   
  • Absolutely yes

  • Yes, am so much interested in working and that would probably help me to achieve a lot in life other than sitting in one place at home with less to do...  more

  • I try to but people refuse to hire

Intern's Incredible Work Ethic Backfires After Manager Accuses Them of Trying to 'Oust' the Staff


If you ever did an internship, you'll know how weirdly peripheral it can feel. You're employed, but not permanently. You're part of a company, but are you really? You're being trusted with jobs, but are they really important jobs or are they just tasks that no one else wants to do? And are you even being paid? Well it depends on the company, but if you are it's not likely to be much at... all.

However, as they say, internships could be your ticket to something much bigger. Maybe it's a rite of passage, maybe it's an underpaid role taking advantage of those privileged enough to even take them up - but at the very least, they give you some solid work experience for your resumé. So when the intern in this story landed a role in a bank office they were excited to get started, and with their future firmly ahead of them, they put everything into their work. Eventually the managers even took notice, but the hard work that they were doing? Well it might not have had such positive consequences after all.

Read on to find out what happened.

I am a temporary intern at a bank office.

After a month in, I kicked *** at my job and completed everything they wanted me to do, everything they hired me to do.

So one morning I showed up to work (fifteen minutes late) and I arrived to an empty office.

I meandered over to my desk and there was a sticky note on my monitor that told me there was a meeting going on in the conference room. Great.

Let's see what happened when this intern arrived late to the meeting.

I went over to the conference room and entered just as the department boss was talking. I'm shy and everyone was looking at me: not the best thing to calm my nerves.

I was directed to walk across the room to sit, and all the while all eyes were on me.

I sat down and the boss continued his conversation.

Basically what he said was I made all my coworkers look bad because I outperformed and set the new office standard for work ethic. Hooray for me, right? Wrong.

Uh-oh. Read on to find out what happened next.

When the boss left, the supervisor put the spotlight on me in a room full of people.

My supervisor thanked me, and I was too scared to thank him or say anything. I was frozen with fear like a deer in headlights.

I ended up looking down at the ground without saying a word. I looked dumb and that was incredibly embarrassing.

I left that room and everything went back to normal... I just worry about what my coworkers thought.

It's great that this intern has already made such an impression at the company.

However, it sucks that the boss put them on the spot like that, embarrassing them in front of everyone.

If the work culture isn't great and full of kind people, this could also turn their colleagues against them.

If you enjoyed this story, check out this post about an employee who is told to work a holiday without overtime pay, and how they ended up getting their money.

This person thought that they'd done well, but their management had done terribly.

And others called out the manager for not considering the shy intern's nature.

Meanwhile, this Redditor pointed out that doing a lot of work can sometimes be a negative thing.

If this intern is already showing up the full time permanent colleagues at the company, then they are clearly doing something right. It's great for the intern's resumé and future job prospects that they've already impressed - and even though they might not have enjoyed the feedback at the time, it's at least a sign that they are valued, even if they just work there temporarily. That's no bad thing, since there's a good chance that if they are a good fit for the company, they might be offered a more permanent job down the line.

But the irony of walking in fifteen minutes late to this sort of praise is hilarious, albeit presumably mortifying for the intern. For introverts and shy folk, we don't like being called out in front of everyone, even when it's for a positive thing, and we certainly don't like having a whole room full of eyes on us. It's a shame that the manager chose to give the intern praise in this way though, rather than in a way that might have been more personally preferable, since a good manager would actually consider the employee first.

If you enjoyed this story, check out this post about an employee whose dietary restrictions caused the whole office to turn against her.
 
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programmer struggling through months of failed interviews walks into technical interview convinced he's about to embarrass himself, leaves with a job offer and higher salary: 'i start on monday'


Have job interviews become so brutal that a normal conversation feels surprising?

We can all agree that having a job interview is pretty nerve-racking. Being sat there, waiting for the managers or recruiters to come, it's just unpleasant. There are people out there who know exactly how to handle those moments, whereas others prefer to avoid them as much as possible. When it comes to interviews,... I'm pretty chill. I try to be myself and hope for the best.

I'm not going to lie: of course, I get nervous, and more often than not, it's the event of my day. No matter what I'm doing before or after the interview, I won't stop thinking about it, play speeches in my head, and prepare myself for the weirdest and most twisted questions (that no one really ever asks, to be honest). Needless to say, when I read this story, I totally relate.

If you've been unemployed for a while, or maybe just job searching, interviews are everything. You put so much expectation on them, and on yourself, that you forget they are not only meeting you: you are meeting them, too. I read somewhere that one thing that helps calm your nerves before an interview is understanding that you're interviewing them as well. You have to focus on the company, what they have to offer you, the salary expectation, etc.

I think that, in the end, it's just a normal conversation you're having with a stranger. Nothing crazy. Think about it like small talk. And if everything goes wrong, you just blew the whole thing, you are most likely never going to see them again. So, there's nothing really to lose.

A piece of advice I have for you is to treat interviews as actual practice. Even if you're happy with your current job and don't feel like changing anything, having one interview every couple of months will be helpful if you're ever in the job market again. And I think that is going to really help you see that they are just a conversation, and there's nothing to be afraid of.
 
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The University as Giant App


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THEO BAKER'S NEW memoir How to Rule the World: An Education in Power at Stanford University has drawn unusual attention for a first... book by a previously unknown author, written mostly when he was in his first two years as an undergraduate at Stanford. It is not an SAT-to-riches saga, however; Baker's parents are seasoned New York Times reporters who met when they were at The Washington Post, and Baker himself is a product of Phillips Academy (a.k.a. Andover). He has already brushed off charges that he is a nepo baby. Still, someone who can refer to Professor Robert Reich of Labor Department fame as "Rob Reich" and who can get numerous scientists, lawyers, and journalists to assist his meteoric career at The Stanford Daily certainly reminds us that man does not live by résumés alone.

This catchily titled book, groomed for outsize success, betrays the avuncular touch of a village of Baker fans, from The New York Times to Penguin Press, and from the Stanford quad to Berkeley's Sproul Plaza. He is a Master of the Universe, disguised as a stressed-out, crusading, geeky Jewish kid who coded his way into Stanford and stumbled his way into a best-selling book, a major journalistic award, and national recognition by the time he was 21 years old. The book itself offers a deep dive into Stanford's role as Silicon Valley's tech incubator, a sunlit paradise of Geeks and Greeks. Baker fetishizes Stanford -- its hugely wealthy, stunning campus, its excellence as the national temple of silicon sana in corpore sano -- but he also shows us how venal, fake, immoral, and extractive its heart really is. How to Rule the World offers us the racy joys of television shows like Mad Men or Suits, with a good dose of The Social Network thrown in. There is something oddly retro about its style and about the Stanford it depicts. But this retro aesthetic slowly unfolds into something altogether darker.

The voice at times reminds me of an earlier cult classic in American literature, J. D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye (1951), with Baker as Holden Caulfield teleported to Stanford in 2022. He is the all-knowing misfit, the spotter of phonies, the artist as young preppie. He has a mordant wit, and his target is adult pretense in every form, from faux socialites to fake bohemians, from insecure debutantes to Ivy League big men. Baker brings Caulfield's adolescent dyspepsia to the brand-conscious insider terminology, casual hedonism, and barely concealed greed of the most admired students and faculty at Stanford.

This slouchy, self-aware form of retro reportage fits the Stanford milieu in an eerie way, since the university itself, in Baker's vignettes, feels as if it is still stuck in the Eisenhower fifties. It is astoundingly conformist, claustrophobically cheerful, overwhelmingly white in spirit if not in demographics, and tightly regulated in the way that Disneyland, with its special brand of crew-cut good cheer and manicured good behavior, also is. Baker stresses how much Stanford invests in its physical beauty, its extensive panoramas and reality TV gestalt.

The midcentury morphing of the university's reputation from clubby regional institution to national powerhouse is crucially connected with Frederick Terman, dean of the engineering school and later provost, often referred to as "the father of Silicon Valley" because of his role in the university-industry partnership that turned the region into a global digital hub, whose career at Stanford extended for two decades after the end of World War II. One of my own siblings (long deceased) was at Stanford as a graduate student in political science in the early 1960s, and his letters to us offered glimpses of a university that was well on its way to shedding its image as a mostly white, conservative, Republican school for young Californians who wished to read Plato while enjoying fraternity parties. The playgrounds for its trustees were places like what was then known as "Squaw Valley," while fraternity parties still had themes like "Pearl Harbor," with fake tanks and camouflage for decor. Stanford students already spoke about their school as being more "bitchin'" than Harvard, and though the university was not yet the Skunk Works for Silicon Valley, the idea that it was a tech-driven alternative to the Ivy League had already taken root.

This Cold War version of Stanford was best symbolized by the Hoover Institution, which gradually became -- and remains -- a quasi-independent center for the study of the conservative angle on war, diplomacy, and international strategy. It remains the university's political beacon (as Hoover Tower is the heart of the campus), blessing and legitimizing the pedagogical investment in digital funding and innovation. Its current director is Condoleezza Rice, who embodies a tradition of fellows, visitors, and scholars that has included Ronald Reagan, George Shultz, and Milton Friedman. It is a living mecca of conservative thought, with remarkable autonomy under the broad Stanford umbrella. The Hoover Institution does not play a big role in Baker's book, but Rice does make a cameo appearance, showing that the military-industrial alliance still thrives at Stanford and provides ballast for the valley's tech adventurism.

¤

I saw a more mature version of this environment during my stay at the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences in 1984-85. Created in the 1950s as an independent center for sabbatical time for scholars around the country, CASBS was on Stanford land, and became slowly absorbed by the university, of which it is now a fully owned subsidiary. Poised on a hillside overlooking the campus, it had the feeling of an academic dude ranch, with fine food and a nice volleyball court, ideal for a carefully curated cohort of about 40 scholars per year. We lived in various quarters, had access to the university's recreational and library facilities, and were treated as honored sojourners in the suburban delights of Palo Alto.

What I could already see at the time was that Stanford did not hew to the model of Caltech, MIT, and other tech powerhouses that did a lot of work for the Pentagon and whose business models depended on those close ties to military research. Stanford broke this mold and was rapidly becoming a new species of institution, neither a private university nor a fully independent industrial research facility. It was a hybrid, a kind of breeder campus for Silicon Valley, with a growing indifference to the boundaries between its academic and technological functions. Industry powered its enormous wealth, and academic rankings and star faculty were this emperor's new clothes, fig leaves to disguise the school's primary function as a high-tech incubator. But what Stanford has become over the last half century is more than merely that, more than market-focused innovation and digital venture capital. It has become a breeder of students with the Right Stuff, what Baker calls the "Stanford inside Stanford," the superbright students who inhabit the school's secret clubs, keep its tightest gates, and scan freshmen for hidden signs of being the next unicorn. You enter this meta-club as a freshman or sophomore, because the VCs, whose spotters and touts comb the campus, believe that no one can show these superhuman qualities once they are juniors or seniors. By then, they are already helots.

Baker offers a shockingly frank look at a campus that is as tightly governed as a Siberian labor camp -- one perhaps designed by Sergey Brin. Baker reveals the extraordinary lengths to which the administrators go to guard against the smallest chances of drunken, bawdy, or intemperate forms of student life, making a simple campus party harder to organize than a political rally. Consent forms, monitors, and cameras lurk everywhere, and solicitous peers and proctors, like neighborhood grandmas in communist East Germany, report on any behavior likely to taint Stanford's reputation as the dedicated petri dish for Silicon Valley's finest. What Baker details is the stifling reality of Stanford's "War on Fun," the other side of its endless sunshine.

Once again, there is a literary preview of this type of sunny gulag, in Kazuo Ishiguro's heartbreaking 2005 novel Never Let Me Go, in which a sylvan British boarding school called Hailsham harbors students who are really clients cloned to be organ donors. The Ishiguro story was triggered for me by Baker's images of Stanford as a grooming machine, a segregated educational bubble under the techno-eugenic gaze of the likes of Peter Thiel, Marc Andreessen, Elon Musk, and Sam Altman. In this pseudo-academic paddock, pronatalism, life extension, genetic engineering, and AI enjoy a high degree of co-produced credibility. Superrace ideologies, new-wave bionics, and new forms of social Darwinism are easy to read in Baker's sketches of his Stanford classmates, not to mention the faculty, trustees, and unicorn spotters who define and control the Stanford inside Stanford. In this respect, Baker's book is a terrifying act of whistleblowing.

Yet a reader might lose this thread in the more life-size villainy displayed in Baker's battle against Marc Tessier-Lavigne, the president of Stanford from 2016 to 2023, a golden boy of scientific research, administrative leadership, and scholarly prestige. Baker, as a Stanford freshman, threw himself into a massive journalistic effort to show that MTL (as Baker refers to him) was involved in an extended series of scientific frauds. These accusations had been swept under the rug by friends, peers, donors, science journal editors, and university leaders, many of whom enabled MTL to deflect criticism until Baker, writing for The Stanford Daily, got his teeth into him. The narrative of Baker's battle to air the full story of MTL's ethical and fiduciary bankruptcy, and the latter's concerted efforts to throw money and lawyers at Baker and silence those who gave him information, advice, and support, is reason alone to read this book.

MTL himself comes off as vaguely android -- perfectly programmed, never frazzled, a supercharged Master of Science. Baker catches him with his mask down a few times, but only fleetingly. Fired by the Stanford trustees when he became a ticking time bomb threatening the university's biggest asset, its winner-take-all reputation, MTL moved on to promote and lead his own company, Xaira Therapeutics, which raised one billion dollars in 2024, with barely a murmur from its heavyweight Bay Area investors about its founder's tainted scientific record.

What Baker shows beyond any quibbling is that the beating heart of Stanford is its near monopoly on the New Silicon Man, its breeder reactor for the production of unicorns. Every one of these exceptional creatures stands out against the backdrop of a vast army of impostors, wannabes, and failures, who rush seasonally into dreary back offices where they code, test, and market digital products. They arise from the lumpen corps of middle school geeks, leaping into view amid the sunlight of freshman year, and unless they are enormously lucky, they vanish soon after into the murky waters from which they first emerged.

But wait, is Stanford not excellent at everything, including the arts, history, sociology, and competitive athletics, not to mention landscaping, health facilities, and hackathons for the digitally gifted? Theo Baker certainly affirms the Stanford drive to be the best in everything, the Delta Force of the academy. Does this soften his troubling picture of the Stanford inside Stanford, the monomaniacal engine for Silicon Valley's need and greed? It does not. Baker is clear that his biggest scoop is not the investigative work that helped him take down a presidential phony but his risky story about the fatal embrace between the university and Silicon Valley. Considered in that context, the humanities departments and all the other nonengineering fields have value because without them, Stanford would crash in the rankings and become just a vocational school for the digital market.

This is, of course, not a concern unique to Stanford. MIT, Caltech, and Johns Hopkins are all technical powerhouses that feed and nurture their poor cousins in the social sciences and humanities for fear of turning into Georgia Tech or the Thunderbird School of Global Management. Specializing in any form of technological education without the full spectrum of the liberal arts can open a university to comparisons with trade schools in blue-collar fields like optometry and paramedical work, with which no elite academic institution wishes to be associated.

¤

Baker finds himself drawn into the world of his parents and discovers that he is addicted to investigative journalism. Pursuing stories, conducting cloak-and-dagger interviews, and flirting with high-end litigation are more attractive to him than the benefits of membership in the Stanford inside Stanford, to which he also has reliable access. Addressing Stanford's self-positioning as the supreme site of Silicon Valley capitalist realism, and rehearsing his campaign against a former president's scientific fraud, would have been more than enough to make this book a nonfiction blockbuster. What Baker may not have intended, however, is the melancholy allegory his book suggests.

This allegory involves, quite simply, the overwhelming dominance of capital -- or just plain filthy lucre -- at Stanford. Swelling endowments, the endless filling of undergraduate stockings by Silicon Valley VCs, unlimited slush funds and personal gifts for promising freshmen, and bottomless social funds for geek hackathons and promotions all float in an ambient mythology of galactic profits and status orgies. The cars, homes, and personal possessions of the valley aristocracy exceed those of any other zip code, class fragment, or campus ecology in the United States. The Bay Area has surpassed New York City in the number of its billionaires (somewhere between 50 and 60), and virtually all of them have tech roots and traceable ties to the Stanford ecosystem. The remarkable wealth disparities produced by the tech aristocracy have prompted a shift away from conspicuous consumption (whose dynamics were so ably analyzed by that erstwhile Stanford sociologist Thorstein Veblen) to what one luxury realtor has called "stealth wealth," in which home sales have become hard to trace and total privacy, especially for the super-wealthy, is the new meta-commodity.

The untiring fantasy of infinite wealth is written into the cultural constitution of the United States, but its historical variations are considerable. The robber barons, the junk bond kings, and the showbiz elites all make, display, and justify their money differently. It is tempting to connect Donald Trump, his family, and his cronies to the cult of wealth in Silicon Valley, for which Stanford is a feeder and breeder. Both have a megalomaniac, Übermensch ethic, and both appear to worship means over ends. But this convergence can mislead. Trump's wealth and the ethic that drives it are anchored in the so-called "art of the deal," a negotiation that might lead to a contract (or not). It is a zombie token of success that can be parlayed into other deals, large sums of money accruing as the collateral benefit of an endless pyramid of deals.

By contrast, Stanford, as a seedbed for Silicon Valley, operates on the basis of the term sheet, the quintessential tool of the venture capital market that underpins digital innovation. The term sheet is a bet on the future potential of a tech idea, often a piece of software, and of the "terms" under which investors and the start-up founder agree to share their spoils and monetize their interests over time. It is the VC version of a prenup. Baker reports that Stanford freshmen and sophomores who acquire a reputation as supersmart are offered term sheets as well as large start-up funds without even having any specific tech ideas. The bet is on the jockey, not on the horse. Trump's ventures, on the other hand, are simply con jobs, scams that count on "deals" to evaporate before they become binding contracts. To put it in the language of capitalist gluttony, term sheets are appetizers, while deals are the main course. Term sheets are speculative devices in a market searching for black swans, while Trump's money mania is about fixing the market for white swans.

¤

So why should Baker's book unsettle us? What's wrong with a powerhouse of a university being joined at the hip to the newest frontier of the American dream? What's wrong with a winner-take-all school feeding a winner-take-all economy? What's wrong with being the filter and the gate to the money and excitement of Silicon Valley?

We can leave aside the usual laundry list of complaints about Stanford's (and Silicon Valley's) wealth, privilege and exclusivity, and their implications for hierarchies of race, class, and gender. We do not need Theo Baker to serve as our muckraker on these subjects since the truly dystopian possibilities lie elsewhere. The chilling subtext of Baker's book is the impression it conveys of Stanford as a piece of advanced pronatalist technology designed to create the optimal laboratory conditions for selecting, grooming, and developing a remarkable class of quasi-adults. These actants can then be assigned to the most exclusive tech hubs (such as Xaira Therapeutics) to create the advanced biomedical tools to further enhance the life chances and cultural dominance of the very class from which they were initially picked. Is this meritocracy, or clonocracy?

It might be argued that Silicon Valley, like the army, the church, and the American Bar Association, is free to identify, recruit, and train new members as they please. What kind of a university is this, then? A metaphor comes to mind. Stanford is the harbinger of the university-as-giant-app, a networked series of buildings, professors, classrooms, donors, faculty, trustees, and back-office staff designed to turn out a small but predictable number of next-generation tech titans. Like other apps, it feels like a highly engineered tool geared to customer convenience, though only a carefully selected group of human beings is allowed to use the program -- and the real operator is Silicon Valley itself, whose screen taps summon the Stanford within Stanford, fresh from the warehouse.
 
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Employers to college students: Never mind that 4.0 GPA. Go out and get a summer job.


College students with any sort of work experience on their résumés are twice as likely to be employed shortly after graduating

Working "in any capacity" during college is "the single strongest predictor of post-graduation employment," according to a recent ZipRecruiter report.

Hiring managers say many applicants for entry-level jobs today lack a critical element on their résumés: work experience... of any sort.

"Any time a résumé is decorated with experience - regardless of what they've done - that will stand out more than the person who is next in line with no experience at all," said Bill Shafransky, a senior wealth adviser at Moneco Advisors in Fairfield, Conn., who has reviewed applications for internships and entry-level hires.

'I can teach somebody how to do a financial spreadsheet. I can teach someone how to do financial modeling. I can't teach somebody how to be personable. I can't teach effort.'Bill Shafransky, Moneco Advisors

Even unrelated, low-skill jobs on a résumé can be valuable for entry-level candidates, reflecting an eagerness to work hard and succeed, Shafransky told MarketWatch. "I can teach somebody how to do a financial spreadsheet. I can teach someone how to do financial modeling. I can't teach somebody how to be personable. I can't teach effort."

Related: I spent months waiting for the perfect job after college. It's one of my biggest regrets.

The share of American students who have jobs has been declining for decades, as many shifted their focus to academics and extracurricular activities. While 30.5% of high-school students and 46.4% of full-time college students were employed in 1993, by 2024, those figures had fallen to 19.8% and 41.4%, respectively, according to the most recent government employment data.

In a 2026 survey by ZipRecruiter, 16% of graduating students and 9% of recent grads had not worked for pay at any point during college.

For many, the decision not to work places them at a significant disadvantage when they graduate into today's competitive job market, where some employers are requiring three to five years of experience even for entry-level jobs.

Others who want to work say getting a foot in the door has been difficult. Teens and parents of teens told MarketWatch that young workers rarely hear back about entry-level service jobs, for instance in food service, unless they have a personal introduction or connection to the employer.

And teens are competing with older workers for similar jobs: People aged 25 and over accounted for 56.9% of minimum-wage workers in 2024.

From the archives (June 2025): Teens from upper-income families are far more likely to work summer jobs than poor teens. What's going on?

Working "in any capacity" during college is "the single strongest predictor of post-graduation employment," a recent ZipRecruiter report concluded.

In ZipRecruiter's survey, 81.6% of recent college grads with work experience - whether that's an internship, part-time job, full-time job, apprenticeship or gig work - were employed shortly after graduating, compared with 40.7% of those who had no experience. Those with experience were also nearly twice as likely, at 20.8%, to have landed a role before receiving their diploma compared with those who didn't work, at 12.7%.

The unemployment rate for recent college graduates has been elevated in recent years, hitting 5.6% in March, compared with an average of 4.2% for all workers, according to the New York Fed. Another 41.5% are underemployed, meaning they are working in jobs that typically do not require a college degree.

'Don't wait until graduation. The earlier you get into a real work environment, the better positioned you'll be.'Sneha Puri, Indeed

"When you're looking at the lost opportunity for an 18-year-old not getting a summer job at an ice-cream stand or whatever it may be, having experience on a resume is extremely important in trying to begin a career," ZipRecruiter economist Nicole Bachaud said.

"Don't wait until graduation. The earlier you get into a real work environment, the better positioned you'll be," said Sneha Puri, an economist at Indeed. "Work experience before graduating allows you to build skills that are hard to replicate in a classroom."

Related: How teens can turn a summer job into an extra $500,000 in savings when they're older

Why employers look for work experience even for entry-level jobs

Karolyn Leonard, global director of talent acquisition at the marketing company Tms, said her company received almost 700 applications for 36 internship positions this year. More than half of the applicants had some work experience on their résumés, including jobs in food service, other internships or being a student-athlete.

"You want to hire somebody who has had some sort of experience dealing with a manager or co-workers. It's helpful to understand if people have been on a team before" and "have that dependability and reliability," she said.

The company also considers a candidate's grade point average and whether they are studying something related to the position.

Other ways younger candidates can stand out

Still, "not everybody has the ability to go to college and do an internship," Leonard acknowledges. Extracurriculars that "highlight team leadership, whether it's in a sorority or fraternity, or the newspaper, certainly help us see that those individuals are motivated and are more likely to succeed," she said.

In the latest survey from the National Association of Colleges and Employers, 17% of graduating seniors did not participate in an internship or other experiential learning program (such as an apprenticeship, co-op position, study abroad, faculty-led research project, on-campus student work or clinical experience).

For those looking for a place to start, an Indeed post identified dozens of jobs that often don't require prior experience, such as data-entry clerk, veterinary assistant and customer-service representative.

And some teens are turning to entrepreneurship to fill the gap - starting their own car-detailing or landscaping business, for instance. Survey data from the Global Entrepreneurship Monitor found that Americans ages 18 to 24 are starting businesses at higher rates than older generations.

Leonard also emphasized the importance of practicing networking skills starting at an early age. "Whether it's your friends, your parents, your parents' friends, your parents' co-workers - there's a lot of people out there who can help you," she said. And even if they don't know of any opportunities, "a lot of people are open to just giving some advice."

Need advice on a money-related issue in your life? MarketWatch's Dollar Signs advice column is here for you. Submit questions anonymously here or write to us at dollarsigns@marketwatch.com.

-Venessa Wong

This content was created by MarketWatch, which is operated by Dow Jones & Co. MarketWatch is published independently from Dow Jones Newswires and The Wall Street Journal.

(END) Dow Jones Newswires

06-20-26 1020ET Copyright (c) 2026 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.
 
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Are students simultaneously overqualified and underprepared?


A hiring manager recently described a common campus recruitment situation. A student with an impressive résumé including certifications in data analytics, digital marketing, AI tools, and academic competitions appeared exceptional on paper but struggled to frame a messy, real-world business problem without a clear answer.

Underprepared

This is increasingly common across industries. Indian... graduates may be the most credentialed generation yet, with résumés full of courses, specialisations, and digital certifications but many are underprepared for professional realities. According to the India Skills Report 2025, about 54.8% of Indian graduates are considered employable, a modest improvement from roughly 51% the previous year. This contradiction lies at the heart of India's employability paradox: why are students accumulating qualifications faster than their readiness for work is improving?

Part of the answer lies in credential inflation. With the expansion of online learning platforms and short-term certification programmes, students today have unprecedented access to specialised courses. In principle, this democratisation of knowledge is positive. However, the speed with which credentials are accumulated sometimes outpaces the depth with which knowledge is absorbed.

Students may complete modules in analytics, marketing automation, or fintech tools. But when faced with real organisational challenges such as analysing declining customer retention or designing a market-entry strategy, the application of that knowledge often becomes difficult.

Challenges

When recruiters discuss employability gaps, they rarely begin with complaints about technical knowledge. Most graduates today possess basic familiarity with digital tools and management frameworks. The challenge lies elsewhere.

The first is problem framing. Many students are trained to solve structured questions with clearly defined problems but organisational challenges rarely arrive in neat formats. A decline in sales may involve pricing, customer behaviour, supply-chain issues, and internal coordination, all of which require analytical maturity that exam-driven learning rarely develops.

The next is comfort with ambiguity. The modern workplace is rarely linear. Projects evolve, information is incomplete, and solutions require experimentation. Reports such as the World Economic Forum's Future of Jobs analysis rank analytical thinking, adaptability, and resilience among the most critical skills today. Yet, many graduates struggle in uncertain environments.

Then comes collaborative maturity. Working in a college group differs from collaboration within a professional organisation. Real teamwork requires negotiating viewpoints, managing disagreements, and sharing accountability ... capabilities that remain underdeveloped in formal education.

Together, these gaps highlight that a deeper insight: the employability challenge is not simply about skills, but about judgement, adaptability, and the ability to operate within complex environments.

Need for change

India's policy framework has recognised the need for change. The National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 calls for greater interdisciplinarity, experiential learning, and stronger academia-industry integration. Similarly, AICTE initiatives encourage internships, industry immersion, and project-based learning as core elements of higher education. But implementing these ideas requires a deeper shift in institutional thinking.

First, curricula must move beyond disciplinary silos. Real business problems rarely fall neatly into categories such as marketing, finance, or operations. Students need interdisciplinary exposure that integrates multiple perspectives while making decisions.

Second, industry engagement must become continuous rather than occasional. Guest lectures and short internships are useful but cannot be substitutes for sustained exposure to organisational challenges.

Third, institutions must create environments where reflection and iteration are valued. Students should be encouraged not only to succeed but also to analyse failure, revise assumptions, and develop resilience.

Ultimately, higher education must move beyond credential-heavy graduates to individuals who can think critically, collaborate, and adapt. As industries evolve, the true measure of education is not certificates but the depth of understanding and judgement applied to complex situations.

Resolving India's employability paradox requires a shift from qualification density to competence depth. Only when education systems prioritise this transformation will students move from being merely well-qualified to being genuinely prepared for the world they are about to enter.

The writer is President and CEO, Fortune Institute of International Business.
 
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Gen Z grad landed a job at LinkedIn by waitressing at a conference full of recruiters and handing out her résumé during breaks -- now she works at Google


Basant Shenouda spent six months after graduating from one of Germany's top universities sliding into recruiters' DMs on LinkedIn and applying for jobs online -- and getting ghosted. So she volunteered to waitress at a conference six hours away, where she handed her résumé to 40 recruiters and landed a job at LinkedIn. Now she's at Google.

"It is becoming harder and harder to reach the hiring... manager, even virtually -- which used to be a more nontraditional method," the Egyptian-born Gen Zer who graduated from the University of Bonn in 2019 tells Fortune. "It's incredibly hard to spotlight yourself."

It's a feeling many graduates know well. With more than a billion users on LinkedIn, overloaded recruiters are increasingly ignoring messages from strangers -- so Shenouda switched tactics, using the platform not to cold-message hiring managers, but to track which conferences they were posting about.

One event in particular stood out: Online Marketing Rockstars in Hamburg. "It's a really well-known marketing and sales conference in Germany," Shenouda recalls.

"I graduated in marketing and was looking to get into sales, so it was just the perfect place where the decision-makers I was looking to target were going to be," she explains. "People were even flying in from the U.S., so it was a good networking opportunity."

With that in mind, Shenouda volunteered to clean up glasses at the conference to gain free entry, and traveled over six hours from Cologne to Hamburg by train with a stack of résumés in hand.

During her breaks at the conference, Shenouda put her CV in front of 30 to 40 faces, with the premise that she was looking for feedback on it -- while secretly hoping her bold approach would impress just one recruitment manager. And after a six-month hiring process, it paid off.

"I was one of the only graduates at the conference, and so it was full of opportunities for me," the 29-year-old adds. "I got insight into my résumé, developed a lot of relationships face-to-face (and that was far more effective than networking online) and got my application kick-started for a couple of positions."

One of those positions was in the sales graduate scheme at LinkedIn, where Shenouda worked until 2014, climbing to the role of implementation consultant in Dublin. Now, she's got a coveted spot at Google -- and it's all thanks to volunteering to waitress where the recruiters were at, instead of waiting for a callback.

"When you're a graduate you think everyone's going to say yes to you and things are going work out. But it's a matter of building up resilience," she advises unemployed grads.

"You need to keep reassessing your process so that every no gets you closer to that next yes."

Target the employers that rejected you

There's a lot to be said for being in the right place at the right time, but Shenouda took a more targeted approach than just hoping to bump into her future employer.

Not only did she draw up a hit list of conferences that hiring managers at her dream employers were going to be at, but she also went face-to-face with those who had rejected her advances online -- LinkedIn's recruiter being one of those.

"I gained feedback from all the companies that rejected me, which allowed me to reapply and get job offers," Shenouda says.

"It really brought me a lot of insight into how I can better distinguish my applications and what gaps I needed to fill to ensure that I made it past the final interview rounds.

"Traditionally, people don't reapply; people don't keep trying and keep reaching out to people and keep maintaining a relationship.

"They [the recruiter] thought those were really good transferable skills for sales, and that's what I ended up doing."

How to convert networking into a job offer

Even if you've made every effort to ensure that you're showing up at all the places hiring managers are, it doesn't guarantee you'll actually get any leads.

Shenouda says she showed her CV to around 200 recruiters across a handful of conferences before having any luck.

Here are some tips she learned along the way to convert networking from just chitchat into something more tangible, like a job interview or offer:

1. Talk impact

Don't worry if promoting yourself to strangers doesn't come naturally. "I was really bad at networking before," Shenouda recalls. Her biggest tip? Talk metrics.

"Now I know how to get someone's attention," she says, adding that that looks like "talking about impact instead of just saying, 'I want a job.'"

Looking back at the elevator pitch that landed her her current role, the Gen Zer says she talked about her wins during a previous internship at Intel.

Likewise, don't be afraid to outline what you want following a conversation with a recruiter.

"I'd always ask the specific question: if they can refer me (for a job), or if they have feedback based on my résumé, or my past interview experience with the company," Shenouda adds.

2. Listen

Want to know which metrics will stand out to the hiring manager at your dream job? Ask them.

"Always focusing your elevator pitch on the other person," Shenouda says.

It may sound counterintuitive to use the few minutes you have to pitch yourself to turn the attention on the recruiter's needs -- but it's a surefire way to closely align your message with what they're looking for.

"If they say they're looking for people who can achieve something like a particular project, make sure you're speaking that language," Shenouda advises.

3. Foster friendships

Even those with hiring powers are people at the end of the day, with lives outside work.

While getting straight down to business may be beneficial in the short term, for long-term alliances, it's better to forge meaningful connections.

"It's not just about networking," Shenouda notes. "It's about making friends, because that's how you get people to support you."

It's why she recommends connecting with the people you've met on social media, while your face and name are still fresh in their minds -- but don't be a stranger.

Shenouda is still in touch with a Facebook recruiter that she met at a careers event seven years ago and bonded with over their mutual affinity for weightlifting.

"The key to any career success is always the relationships you have -- that is why I have always prioritized networking outside of the traditional job-hunting method."

A version of this story originally published on April 13, 2024.

Have you used an unusual hack to break into your career? Fortune wants to hear from you. Get in touch: [email protected]
 
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Why first dates feel more like job interviews than romantic encounters


Dating in 2026 feels less like falling in love and more like applying for a competitive internship. You show up polished, prepared, and armed with rehearsed answers to the same questions.

The butterflies, the excitement, the anticipation of meeting someone new first dates have long been associated with romance and possibility.

Yet for many modern singles, sitting across from a potential partner... can feel less like the beginning of a love story and more like a high-stakes job interview.

Questions about career goals, financial stability, future plans, and personal values often arrive before the appetisers. Instead of simply enjoying each other's company, many people leave first dates feeling evaluated rather than appreciated.

The search for compatibility

Dating has always involved assessing whether two people are a good match. However, in today's fast-paced world, many singles are trying to determine compatibility as quickly as possible.

With busy schedules and countless dating app profiles just a swipe away, people often feel pressured to decide early whether a relationship has long-term potential. As a result, first dates become a fact-finding mission.

Questions such as "Where do you see yourself in five years?" or "Do you want children?" may seem more suited to a recruitment panel than a romantic evening, but they are increasingly common because people want clarity before investing emotionally.

Dating apps have changed expectations

The rise of dating apps has transformed how people approach romance. Before meeting in person, many individuals already know basic information about each other's interests, careers, education, and hobbies.

By the time they sit down for a first date, the focus often shifts from discovering who someone is to verifying whether they match the image created online.

The abundance of options can also create a "shopping mindset," where people feel compelled to assess potential partners quickly and efficiently. Instead of allowing chemistry to develop naturally, dates can become a checklist of qualities and deal-breakers.

Fear of wasting time

Many adults enter the dating scene with clearer relationship goals than previous generations. Whether they want marriage, children, companionship, or personal growth, they often know what they are looking for.

This clarity can be beneficial, but it also creates pressure. Some people feel they must gather as much information as possible during the first meeting to avoid investing time in someone who may not share their goals.

The result is a conversation that can feel more like an interview than an exploration of mutual attraction.

The pressure to present a perfect version of yourself

Job interviews involve selling your strengths while minimising your weaknesses. Many people unconsciously adopt the same approach on first dates.

They carefully select their outfit, rehearse answers to common questions, and highlight their accomplishments while avoiding topics that might make them seem vulnerable.

This desire to impress can create a polished but artificial interaction. Instead of getting to know one another authentically, both people may be focused on managing impressions.

What romance Is missing

The irony is that while practical questions are important, they rarely reveal the most meaningful aspects of a person. Compatibility is not only about shared goals but also about how two people make each other feel.

Humour, kindness, curiosity, emotional intelligence, and the ability to enjoy each other's company often emerge naturally when conversation flows without an agenda.

Some relationship experts argue that the best first dates balance practical considerations with genuine curiosity. Rather than treating the encounter as an assessment, they encourage people to focus on connection, shared experiences, and being present in the moment.
 
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Gen Z grad landed LinkedIn job by applying to waitress at conferences, then handed out her résumé during breaks | Fortune


"It is becoming harder and harder to reach the hiring manager, even virtually -- which used to be a more nontraditional method," the Egyptian-born Gen Zer who graduated from the University of Bonn in 2019 tells Fortune. "It's incredibly hard to spotlight yourself."

It's a feeling many graduates know well. With more than a billion users on LinkedIn, overloaded recruiters are increasingly ignoring... messages from strangers -- so Shenouda switched tactics, using the platform not to cold-message hiring managers, but to track which conferences they were posting about.

One event in particular stood out: Online Marketing Rockstars in Hamburg. "It's a really well-known marketing and sales conference in Germany," Shenouda recalls.

"I graduated in marketing and was looking to get into sales, so it was just the perfect place where the decision-makers I was looking to target were going to be," she explains. "People were even flying in from the U.S., so it was a good networking opportunity."

With that in mind, Shenouda volunteered to clean up glasses at the conference to gain free entry, and traveled over six hours from Cologne to Hamburg by train with a stack of résumés in hand.

During her breaks at the conference, Shenouda put her CV in front of 30 to 40 faces, with the premise that she was looking for feedback on it -- while secretly hoping her bold approach would impress just one recruitment manager. And after a six-month hiring process, it paid off.

"I was one of the only graduates at the conference, and so it was full of opportunities for me," the 29-year-old adds. "I got insight into my résumé, developed a lot of relationships face-to-face (and that was far more effective than networking online) and got my application kick-started for a couple of positions."

One of those positions was in the sales graduate scheme at LinkedIn, where Shenouda worked until 2014, climbing to the role of implementation consultant in Dublin. Now, she's got a coveted spot at Google -- and it's all thanks to volunteering to waitress where the recruiters were at, instead of waiting for a callback.

"When you're a graduate you think everyone's going to say yes to you and things are going work out. But it's a matter of building up resilience," she advises unemployed grads.

"You need to keep reassessing your process so that every no gets you closer to that next yes."

Target the employers that rejected you

There's a lot to be said for being in the right place at the right time, but Shenouda took a more targeted approach than just hoping to bump into her future employer.

Not only did she draw up a hit list of conferences that hiring managers at her dream employers were going to be at, but she also went face-to-face with those who had rejected her advances online -- LinkedIn's recruiter being one of those.

"I gained feedback from all the companies that rejected me, which allowed me to reapply and get job offers," Shenouda says.

"It really brought me a lot of insight into how I can better distinguish my applications and what gaps I needed to fill to ensure that I made it past the final interview rounds.

"Traditionally, people don't reapply; people don't keep trying and keep reaching out to people and keep maintaining a relationship.

"They [the recruiter] thought those were really good transferable skills for sales, and that's what I ended up doing."

How to convert networking into a job offer

Even if you've made every effort to ensure that you're showing up at all the places hiring managers are, it doesn't guarantee you'll actually get any leads.

Shenouda says she showed her CV to around 200 recruiters across a handful of conferences before having any luck.

Here are some tips she learned along the way to convert networking from just chitchat into something more tangible, like a job interview or offer:

1. Talk impact

Don't worry if promoting yourself to strangers doesn't come naturally. "I was really bad at networking before," Shenouda recalls. Her biggest tip? Talk metrics.

"Now I know how to get someone's attention," she says, adding that that looks like "talking about impact instead of just saying, 'I want a job.'"

Looking back at the elevator pitch that landed her her current role, the Gen Zer says she talked about her wins during a previous internship at Intel.

Likewise, don't be afraid to outline what you want following a conversation with a recruiter.

"I'd always ask the specific question: if they can refer me (for a job), or if they have feedback based on my résumé, or my past interview experience with the company," Shenouda adds.

2. Listen

Want to know which metrics will stand out to the hiring manager at your dream job? Ask them.

"Always focusing your elevator pitch on the other person," Shenouda says.

It may sound counterintuitive to use the few minutes you have to pitch yourself to turn the attention on the recruiter's needs -- but it's a surefire way to closely align your message with what they're looking for.

"If they say they're looking for people who can achieve something like a particular project, make sure you're speaking that language," Shenouda advises.

3. Foster friendships

Even those with hiring powers are people at the end of the day, with lives outside work.

While getting straight down to business may be beneficial in the short term, for long-term alliances, it's better to forge meaningful connections.

"It's not just about networking," Shenouda notes. "It's about making friends, because that's how you get people to support you."

It's why she recommends connecting with the people you've met on social media, while your face and name are still fresh in their minds -- but don't be a stranger.

Shenouda is still in touch with a Facebook recruiter that she met at a careers event seven years ago and bonded with over their mutual affinity for weightlifting.

"The key to any career success is always the relationships you have -- that is why I have always prioritized networking outside of the traditional job-hunting method."

A version of this story originally published on April 13, 2024.
 
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1   
  • 0m
    HRM will always find fault with you jumping jobs. I faced similar scenerio in an interview where the senior HR critized my CV having worked for 3... companies in 4 years but the real question is are we supposed to miss opportunity that comes with more growth, more compensation but to just stick to the present role with less growth. more

  • Am a program manager in a project, which we will be having our close out on 23rd of this month. Am a person with disability. I advocate for people... with disability  more

Every Teen Should Work in the Service Industry


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A few months ago, my older son, who is 15, announced that he wanted to get a job this summer. He actually had made this announcement a year ago, when he was 14 and too young to work anywhere but summer camps, which did not meet his criteria for acceptable employment.... ("Too many annoying kids" was his reason -- hard to argue with that.)

But in the lead-up to this summer, he was insistent: It would be wage servitude or nothing. In May, he printed out 30 copies of his endearingly brief résumé. You hear a lot of bad things about the job market, but I guess it doesn't apply to the absolute entry-level workforce, because after three weeks of "spamming the neighborhood," as he put it, he got a call from a pizza place a few blocks away and was hired to work behind the counter.

I was not expecting this milestone to feel quite so momentous. Starting when they're toddlers, we do our best to teach our children to be cooperative. We try to model respectful behavior, and we try to teach them to be responsible for their actions. We spend years doing this, every single day, to the extent that our personalities rearrange around the teaching of these lessons. But the first true test of whether any of this has really stuck doesn't happen in school, where the intimate authority of parents is replaced by the intimate authority of teachers, or while playing sports, when a kid is embedded in the intimacy of a group of teammates. It's only when a kid gets their first real job that the rubber hits the road.

Will the kid be able to figure out what to do without always having to be told? Will they be able to take the pressure and tolerate an absence of feedback? Will they know not to make excuses for their mistakes? There's no way to predict how any of this will go when you remove the accommodating presence of family and friends and replace them with people for whom your child represents either an asset or a liability.

A kid's first job also marks a boundary of parental influence. Even into the college years, there's a valuable supporting role for conscientious parents to play, hauling stuff to and from the dorm and checking in about big assignments. But you cannot call your child's boss and explain why they were late for work. You cannot ask your child's boss to give them a second chance. Your child's boss's authority supersedes yours, for better or worse. This is unprecedented.

I, for one, am ready to hand over some of my authority and let someone else wield it for a while. But I know parents whose feelings about their children joining the workforce are not as sanguine as mine. For kids under a lot of pressure to mobilize upward (or even to simply maintain their parents' class position), working in the service industry is frowned upon. Several of my son's friends are discouraged by their parents, even forbidden, from getting a service-industry job.

Maybe it's out of a wariness of the influence that a high-intensity social environment can exert on a person. Maybe these parents don't want their children to start self-identifying as a member of the working class. Maybe they're afraid that something will rub off on their children on contact, that they will be infected by an invisible germ of lower-classness that will live inside them forever like chronic Lyme. (Remember, we are living in a time when people's beliefs are becoming less and less rational.) Maybe it's a "mind-set" thing: Aim high from the start, even if that means cosplaying entrepreneurship by developing a fake product that will never actually be sold.

I couldn't disagree more with this position. I worked in the service industry from the age of 15 until I was 24, and during that period I learned most, if not all, of the most valuable professional lessons of my life. While working behind a deli counter and as a line cook, a barista, a barmaid, and a waitress, I learned everything I know about how to make myself useful almost anywhere. In the service industry, you learn about what actually has to happen to produce a nice experience: the prep, the mise, the mopping, the wiping, the grease trap, the breaking down of boxes out back at 11 p.m. This is not romantic work, but it is necessary, and it can't be done by AI. Someone will always have to do it, and even if you're convinced your child is destined for the C-suite or for academic greatness, it is essential, for one's humanity, to understand what goes into making people like you comfortable and happy every day. Ignorance about what it means to serve is inhumane.

Maybe it's because so many people in the service industry are young that this type of work tends to include the kind of mentorship that many white-collar workers yearn for and never receive. (One of the worst things I can imagine for my son is to be hired for a remote-work laptop job where he never meets his bosses or co-workers and is "trained" via a series of interactions with an onboarding chatbot.)

I learned a lot from my first few bosses. They were all Gen-X misfit types who were moody and erratic, but I respected them because they were not corny people. My first boss was Mark, who managed the deli where I worked in high school. He taught me to break down whole chickens into parts and wrote me a sincere and thoughtful letter of recommendation for college. (I didn't get into any of the schools I wanted to go to, but the encouragement meant a lot.)

A couple years later, the sous-chef at the fine-dining restaurant where I worked right after college would order his youngest and slowest cooks (myself among them) to go home and watch obscure B-movies from the '70s and '80s like The Ice Pirates and Billy Jack, on which he would later quiz us. I was the only person who would actually watch them, trying to get on his good side by any means necessary since I knew I was the weakest link on the line.

Working in the service industry in the '90s and 2000s meant you might work with people who had served in the Vietnam War. I assume no one refers to being in the weeds during service as "being in 'Nam'" anymore, but maybe I'm wrong. I had a sous-chef who would hold heads of celery in front of his face in imitation of "the jungle" and would yell at us, while firing orders, that "Charlie's right behind you, moving through that grass in his black pajamas."

Maybe it was the stress of that type of work, or maybe it was that I was young, but I never cared more about pleasing a boss than I did when I was working in service. The people I worked for were usually not college graduates, and most lacked my privilege and the pedigree that I eventually acquired through education. But working for them made it very clear that any airs of superiority I might acquire over the course of my liberal arts education were in fact traces of ignorance. Making assumptions about others' intelligence, I very quickly learned while working alongside people in service, is childish. Shameful, even.

I want my children to learn this lesson for themselves, on practical terms rather than through abstractions that I impart through tedious lectures that they will mostly ignore. This is the real reason I want my children to get work experience in the service industry. As income inequality gets continuously more extreme, there are diminishing opportunities for young people to get to know anyone from outside their class and cultural enclave. Youth sports used to be a place where this could happen, but team sports are so expensive and competitive that it no longer does.

Class segregation is reaching the structural significance that racial segregation once had, to the point where most people don't even think about class anymore -- the power of class exclusion is so powerful that it preordains who we could possibly know. We tend to think now in terms of social values, and as we hunker down against polarization and seek shelter with people like us, we're making it worse.

During the Q&A at last month's live Brooding event, a member of the audience asked for advice on how to discern whether other parents' values matched ours. My answer at the time was that usually it's pretty obvious; we display all kinds of subtle and overt signifiers of our beliefs. What I didn't say, but kept thinking about after the fact, is that maybe we should allow for the possibility that we'd become friendly with someone whose values aren't a perfect match to ours.

There are vanishingly few environments where people from different classes and cultural enclaves mix as equals. Showing up to work in service as a young person is one lasting site of encounter. The types of conversations that happen while setting up or breaking down a shift -- low-stakes, meandering conversations about any number of topics both trivial and heavy, where there's no option to pick up your ball and go home, which forces everyone to try to get along -- this is the literal opposite of the discursive style of, say, social media. Think of it as an analog for the developmental phase of toddlers engaged in parallel play, but for young adults figuring out their beliefs. Who wouldn't want that for their kids?

The world's first trillionaire has now been minted, and the class of people that the writer Dan Brooks calls "Diamond Medallion Americans" are clinging to power and determining through their outrageous economic influence what many people -- especially children -- think of as happiness and success. This is the world our children are coming of age into.

The ambient pop-cultural emphasis on the superrich creates bizarre delusions in children, and it's a distraction, as they get older, from developing realistic expectations about what work is really like. At every pay scale, a lot of work remains (AI be damned) about relationships with other people and one's ability to develop and maintain them. Serving work demands those skills and rewards the teens who develop them young with the sort of intuition and perspective that can make someone a very effective boss someday.
 
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Watch: Cape Town graduate's roadside sign opens unexpected doors


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1. Dawn at the Rotary

At 07:07 sharp on a May Monday, Lungelo Ndaba stepped onto the painted refuge island at the V&A Waterfront turn-off. In one hand he held a sign made from two rectangles of supermarket carton, the blunt edges bound with duct tape rescued from a flat-mate's bicycle repair kit.

The... ink was standard ball-point, the letters drawn tall and open so a passing phone could still read them when shrunk to thumbnail size: "B-Tech Town & Regional Planning - NDip Building - Looking for Employment - 062 *** **** ." Eleven words that fitted neatly inside one third of a vertical video frame.

Ndaba had scouted this exact spot for three consecutive mornings, clocking approaching cars, sunrise glare, and peak phone-camera angles. He rehearsed the 46 km/h traffic flow, noted where the median kept him clear of wing-mirrors, and timed the 45-minute window when the rising sun sat low enough behind Devil's Peak to backlight the board without bleaching the lettering. By 07:13 content creator Khanya "Kyeezi" Siyengo had already shot and posted a nine-second reel. Less than four hours later, the same clip sat on every major platform, captioned and remixed, soundtracked to the week's trending amapiano loop.

2. Behind the Cardboard Curtain

* Crafting Visibility* Every visible detail had been stress-tested the night before on a borrowed smartphone. The matte, grey inner side of the carton reflected no glare. The shirt was a plain white golf tee borrowed from a friend; turned inside out, it hid a faded logo and registered as a solid, noise-free block of colour on a compressed 1080×1350 feed. The wording copied the terse syntax of LinkedIn: qualifications first, intent second, contact last. In other words, the sign itself became a spatial resume, laid out with the same hierarchy principles Ndaba learned while plotting zoning layers in his final-year GIS module.

* The Data That Guided Him* For three evenings Ndaba had sat at the Observatory flat window, spreadsheet open, stopwatch running. He recorded light temperature, vehicle velocity, and the average dwell time a driver spent at the traffic light. These measurements produced the single sentence that travelled the internet. The sign never begged; it informed, confident that algorithms reward clarity the way hiring managers reward brevity.

* A Quiet Revolution* While classmates fretted over PDFs and email subject lines, Ndaba engineered a living résumé that updated in real time - one geotagged, timestamped, and auto-verified by sheer public fascination. No passive voice, no pleading. Just facts, framed for a nine-second attention economy.

3. A Country Still Drawing Its Own Map

* Vacancies Without Applicants* South Africa sits on a backlog of 2.7 million houses, yet the South African Council for Planners lists at least 1 400 vacant posts nationwide. Municipal adverts from Ekurhuleni to eThekwini linger unfilled for half a year. Each year the country's planning schools release barely more than 220 new graduates, many of whom cluster in Gauteng metros chasing scarce internships.

* Tools of the Trade* At Durban University of Technology Ndaba mapped shacks along the uMngeni River using a borrowed drone after dark, crunching orthomosaics on a classmate's gaming laptop during scheduled blackouts. His 127-page Spatial Development Framework for Ixopo re-imagined the R612 corridor as a mixed-use spine with biofiltration swales, all stored on a cloud link because coastal humidity killed every external drive he ever owned.

* The Cape Town Gamble* When municipal budgets vanished, he stuffed his certificates into a PVC sleeve, boarded a TransLux coach, and rode 1 645 km to Cape Town. Rumour said the private sector would pay for GIS talent; reality greeted him with the classic loop: entry-level posts require "two years post-qualification experience," internships pay less than taxi fare, and most GIS drafting jobs are quietly off-shored to Manila.

4. Sixty Minutes That Changed a Life

* A Bullet-Point Chronicle*

* 07:13 - Kyeezi uploads the clip.

* 08:06 - His inbox explodes past 300 messages.

* 09:27 - A Woodstock urban-design studio asks for an email via Twitter DM.

* 10:44 - Investec's head of property finance loops Ndaba into an internal thread: "Re: Town Planner for Affordable Housing JV."

* 12:15 - The City of Cape Town logs his ID in a talent pool.

* 13:02 - A Stellenbosch agritech startup invites him to a 15:00 Zoom call.

* 14:11 - His phone dies; he borrows a charger at a Shell Ultra City.

* 14:58 - He logs in from the store's Wi-Fi lounge while N2 traffic drones behind him.

* 16:30 - The startup mails a three-month contract at R18 500, extendable if he can design a 500-unit rollout in Philippi.

* 19:09 - SABC runs the clip on the 7 pm bulletin.

By 21:00 he has replied with a thumbs-up emoji. Two days later, 1 200 legitimate job leads clog his Gmail, all auto-tagged by colour-coded filters he built in half an hour.

5. The Anatomy of a Post-Viral Hunt

* Credential Conversion Fees* SACPLAN registration demands R2 800 and a six-to-eight-week wait. Professional indemnity insurance needs R5 million cover - a premium impossible on an account balance of negative R47.36. The startup's HR office agrees to front both fees, but only if Ndaba upgrades to an EB driver's licence within 90 days; the Bellville driving school quotes R7 900. Viral fame looks effortless; bureaucracy still charges sticker price.

* Spatial Injustice in Real Time* Ndaba's daily commute runs 47 km from Philippi to Techno Park. By car it is 42 minutes at dawn, two hours at dusk. By public transport - three minibus taxis plus one Golden Arrow - he burns 3 h 20 min each way. The same GIS skills that once mapped informal settlements now calculate how containerised micro-housing could wedge into Stellenbosch industrial edges and claw back lost hours for thousands of workers priced out of proximity.

* The Software Stack You Never Saw* Because videos crop fast, the QR code Ndaba taped to the bottom corner never made the final cut. It opens a Carrd site synced to Calendly and a Notion board where every application turns green, amber, or red. IFTTT logs every scan, auto-emailing GPS data so he can chart pedestrian conversion like any decent spatial analyst. The cardboard sign grabbed the world's sympathy; the cloud architecture quietly collected data for version 2.0.

6. Ripple Effects on the Pavement

* Other Graduates, Same Verge* Asemahle Nombanjana stood outside a Queenstown Engen with "Hire me, Eskom" and landed a entry-level transmission-line post in five days. Sipho Mthembu painted his entire Corolla rear windshield with "CIMA part-qualified - seeking articles - call me" and fielded 73 offers. Each case follows the same diffusion curve: the street as billboard, the smartphone as broadcast tower, the comment thread as HR department.

* Thread Becomes Database* Under a viral TikTok comment - fists-folded emoji plus "Our municipalities need planners" - users pasted links to 37 vacancy pages, uploaded scanned salary slips, and one Limpopo municipal manager offered transport stipends. Within 72 hours the thread mutated into the most current public vacancy list in the country. University of Pretoria's final-year Telegram group pinned it as "Jobs Board." Economists call this a thick-market externality: each post lowers the next person's search cost.

* Toward a New Curriculum Vitae* Recruiters at the 2023 South African Planning Institute conference now joke about adding a line to SACPLAN's form: "Describe yourself in the length of a viral reel." The joke is already half-serious. Ndabafication - compressing your entire career into 11 high-impact words - has become a verb among HR circles. The pavement, once a last resort, is now a beta test for résumé grammar itself.

[{"question": "What inspired Lungelo Ndaba's unique job search approach?", "answer": "Faced with the classic dilemma of needing 'two years post-qualification experience' for entry-level jobs and internships paying less than taxi fare, Lungelo Ndaba devised an innovative strategy. He meticulously planned every detail, from the wording on his sign to the optimal location and timing on a busy street corner, to attract attention and overcome traditional hiring barriers."}, {"question": "How did Lungelo Ndaba's sign become a viral sensation?", "answer": "Lungelo Ndaba's sign, crafted from supermarket carton with carefully chosen words and a contact number, was strategically placed at the V&A Waterfront turn-off. Content creator Khanya \"Kyeezi\" Siyengo filmed a nine-second reel of him, which quickly went viral across major platforms, gaining widespread attention and leading to numerous job offers."}, {"question": "What meticulous planning went into Lungelo Ndaba's street corner display?", "answer": "Ndaba's planning was extensive. He scouted the location for three mornings, observing traffic flow, sun glare, and optimal phone-camera angles. He rehearsed the traffic speed and timed his 45-minute window to ensure perfect backlighting. The sign's matte surface, the plain white shirt, and the concise LinkedIn-style wording were all stress-tested for maximum visibility and impact in a compressed video feed."}, {"question": "What challenges did Lungelo Ndaba face in his job search before his viral moment?", "answer": "Despite a significant backlog of 2.7 million houses in South Africa and numerous vacant planning posts, Ndaba, like many graduates, struggled to find employment. He encountered the common 'two years experience' requirement for entry-level roles, underpaying internships, and the offshoring of GIS drafting jobs. His journey included mapping shacks with a borrowed drone and storing his work on a cloud due to environmental factors."}, {"question": "What immediate impact did the viral video have on Lungelo Ndaba's life?", "answer": "Within hours of the video going viral, Lungelo Ndaba's inbox exploded with messages. He received job inquiries from an urban-design studio, Investec's head of property finance, and the City of Cape Town. A Stellenbosch agritech startup invited him for a Zoom call, leading to a three-month contract offer that same day. His story was even featured on SABC's 7 pm bulletin."}, {"question": "What 'ripple effects' did Lungelo Ndaba's innovative approach create?", "answer": "Ndaba's success inspired other graduates to use similar 'street as billboard' tactics, leading to job offers for individuals like Asemahle Nombanjana and Sipho Mthembu. His viral moment also unintentionally created a dynamic, crowdsourced job board on TikTok, with users sharing vacancies and salary information. This phenomenon, dubbed 'Ndabafication,' has even influenced HR circles, leading to discussions about new forms of resumes optimized for the 'nine-second attention economy'."}]
 
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  • Hypothetical worst case scenario off the top of my head: do you like your job enough to have kept receipts of your faithfulness, get a specialty civil... suit lawyer with billable hours, could countersue for more damages than your lawyer would bill you for, willing to burn that bridge and/or full scorched earth, and go on a blacklist with your Management's six degrees of connection? How committed are you to a mutual hostage situation compelled by somebody else? more

  • Unless the management had seem some sign of negligence from your side, i don't understand why they want you to pay. However, if they insist request... them to be deducting each month from your salary, so that you don't lack cash for personal upkeep at once. more

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The Professional Networking Machine Is Selling You Back Your Own Hope


The Professional Networking Machine Is Selling You Back Your Own Hope

Behind the polished profiles and career advice is a system that turns work, insecurity, comparison, and visibility into recurring revenue.

Big-box professional networking sites are not really about networking. That is the first lie most people accept because it sounds harmless. They are about positioning a platform between... working people and opportunity, then charging everyone around that fear. The worker wants a job. The recruiter wants access. The advertiser wants attention. The platform wants all of it moving through the same machine.

That does not mean every job is fake, every recruiter is dishonest, or every user is wasting time. The trick is more subtle than that. The platform can be useful and still be manipulative. A cage with comfortable lighting is still a cage if it trains people to forget where the exits are.

Most people enter these sites from a place of need. They need work, money, status, escape, proof, or some sign that the world has not passed them by. That emotional state matters because a stable person uses a tool differently than a desperate person. A stable person logs in, checks a few things, and leaves. A desperate person keeps refreshing, keeps improving, keeps applying, keeps comparing, keeps wondering why the machine has not chosen him yet.

That is where the platform wins. It does not have to promise salvation directly. It only has to keep the user close enough to hope that leaving feels dangerous. One more connection. One more application. One more profile update. One more certification. One more post. One more premium feature. One more chance to be seen.

The machine begins by turning the worker into a product. It asks him to build a profile, polish a headline, tighten a résumé, list his skills, display his credentials, and arrange his life into searchable signals. On the surface, this looks like professionalism. Underneath, it teaches a person to see himself through the eyes of a sorting system. He stops asking what he is actually worth and starts asking how valuable he appears inside the platform.

That is a psychological shift most people do not notice while it is happening. A man begins with a work history and slowly turns himself into packaging. He rewrites his life in keywords, metrics, buzzwords, and clean little summaries. He becomes easier to rank, easier to compare, easier to ignore, and easier to sell back to employers, advertisers, recruiters, and himself.

Then comes the public performance. These sites do not merely ask people to look professional. They train people to narrate their professional lives for an audience. Promotions become posts. Layoffs become posts. Certifications become posts. Burnout becomes resilience. Humiliation becomes a leadership lesson. Failure becomes a growth opportunity. Even unemployment has to be polished into a humble little speech about gratitude, learning, and the next chapter.

That is not authenticity. That is emotional laundering.

The platform rewards people for sounding human in a way that no healthy human being actually talks. Everyone becomes grateful, humbled, excited, resilient, honored, thrilled, and proud to announce. The language is fake because the environment is fake. People are not speaking freely. They are performing worth in public because they believe opportunity may be watching.

Once the performance begins, comparison does the rest. A user scrolls through announcements, promotions, awards, new roles, polished headshots, speaking clips, leadership posts, and humble victories from people who may be just as scared as he is. It does not matter that some of it is exaggerated. The emotional effect still lands. He feels late. He feels behind. He feels invisible. He feels like everyone else understands the rules of a game he cannot quite win.

That feeling is not an accident. Comparison creates panic, and panic creates engagement. The more a person feels behind, the more likely he is to update, post, apply, search, watch, message, pay, and return. The platform does not need to make every user successful. It only needs to keep enough users uncertain.

Uncertainty is the fuel.

This is why paid tools fit so naturally into the model. A worried worker will pay to feel less invisible. He will pay to know who viewed his profile. He will pay to send messages. He will pay to appear higher. He will pay for insights, courses, badges, access, and tiny psychological comforts that make him feel closer to opportunity. The product is not only information. The product is temporary relief from professional anxiety.

That is the part people miss. The platform is not simply helping people find work. It is monetizing the emotional state of needing work. It takes fear, hope, ambition, comparison, and status pressure, then turns those feelings into engagement, subscriptions, data, advertising, and marketplace leverage.

The machine also changes how people understand competence. In a sane world, competence is proven by doing real work well over time. Inside the platform, competence has to be signaled constantly. People learn to perform expertise before anyone sees the work. They learn to sound strategic, data-driven, collaborative, mission-focused, growth-minded, and adaptable. The costume becomes so common that everyone forgets it is a costume.

This is why the feed feels so strange. It is full of people trying to look employable to other people who are also trying to look employable. It is a room full of anxious actors pretending to be confident professionals while the platform sells tickets, lighting, stage space, analytics, and better seats near the front.

The cruelty is that the need underneath all of this is real. People do need jobs. They do need income. They do need dignity. They do need chances. That is why the machine works. It attaches itself to survival, then teaches people that survival depends on visibility inside the machine.

That is power.

The answer is not to pretend these platforms are useless. That would be too easy and not true. Use them if you must. Build the profile. Apply for the role. Message the recruiter. Take what value you can. But do not confuse the platform with reality. Do not confuse visibility with worth. Do not confuse performance with competence. Do not confuse being seen by a machine with being valued as a human being.

The professional networking machine wants you to believe you are building a career when you are often being trained to market yourself nonstop. It wants you to believe the next improvement will finally make you visible. It wants you chasing just enough hope to stay available, searchable, measurable, and monetizable.

That is the scam. Not that every opportunity is fake. Not that every person there is lying. The scam is deeper. It convinces people that their worth must be performed in public, measured by strangers, optimized for machines, and upgraded through tools they may have to pay for.

A real network is built on trust, memory, reputation, skill, and human relationship. The professional networking machine imitates that world while quietly replacing it with dashboards, metrics, status signals, and paid visibility.

It does not have to ruin everyone to work.

It only has to keep enough people chasing.

Wayne R. Bodie writes about hidden systems, digital pressure, manipulation, attention economics, modern work culture, and the psychological machinery shaping everyday life. Search Wayne Bodie Books or Wayne R. Bodie on Medium for more essays about the official story, the machine, and the systems most people never stop to examine.
 
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Where Purpose Begins With A Chance | Sarawak Tribune


Sometimes, the door that refuses to open is not the end of opportunity; it is the beginning of a different path that quietly rebuilds a life. In a world where qualifications and experience do not always guarantee success, many individuals face rejection, uncertainty, and silent self-doubt. Yet within these setbacks, there are unexpected spaces where resilience is formed, dignity is restored, and... purpose is rediscovered through honest work and human connection.

Li Zhiqiang, 30, struggles to find stable employment in Miri despite a long list of short-term jobs on his résumé. Rejected repeatedly, he slowly begins to lose confidence in himself and his future.

Everything changes when he encounters an elderly chef running a small, humble laksa shop. He is given the most difficult and undesirable tasks: messy, exhausting, and often overlooked. Yet Zhiqiang perseveres in silence.

Through patience and repetition, he gradually learns the craft of cooking, absorbing not just skills but discipline and respect for the work itself. As time passes, his abilities grow, and he begins to take on more responsibility in the shop. Alongside the daily grind, he witnesses moments of human connection, quiet reconciliation, and the unspoken strength of tradition that holds the community together.

Through this journey, Zhiqiang slowly rediscovers something he thought he had lost: a purpose. This is the reality faced by unemployed and underemployed individuals, while celebrating perseverance, humility, and personal growth.

The story reflects that success is not defined by status or titles, but by resilience, effort, meaningful human connections, and the emotional truth of 'finding worth beyond rejection'. It explores how repeated failure can unexpectedly open doors to growth, and how purpose often emerges in places least expected. At its core, it shows that dignity is not granted by position, but built through consistency, effort, and willingness to learn.

We're Hiring You is a heartfelt short film that blends realism and emotional storytelling, offering a grounded portrayal of struggle, mentorship, and quiet transformation. Set in the warmth of a traditional laksa shop, it celebrates heritage, human kindness, and the quiet dignity of everyday work. It is a story of how life can redirect those who feel lost, and how sometimes, the smallest opportunity becomes the most meaningful turning point.

Don't miss this inspiring short film that reminds us success is not defined by rejection, but by the courage to keep going when life feels uncertain. A heartfelt story of resilience, humility, and finding purpose in unexpected places. Let this be a reminder that every setback can be the start of something meaningful. Watch We're Hiring You, Sunday, June 21, 2026, 6.30 pm.
 
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ECU Health's Community Pipeline Program Personalizes Health Careers - Instantly Interpret Free: Legalese Decoder - AI Lawyer Translate Legal Docs To Plain English


Toyta Kee's work is changing lives in eastern North Carolina by providing career opportunities in the healthcare field. This program not only helps job seekers but also addresses workforce needs as hospitals seek skilled employees.

Empowering the Community

The Community Pipeline Program, led by Kee, aims to offer new career pathways to individuals interested in healthcare roles. Many people... don't realize that healthcare jobs exist beyond clinical positions. This program helps participants see the variety of roles available to them. Kee works closely with each individual, guiding them from initial contact to job placement. She focuses on improving their résumés and finding positions that match their skills and aspirations.

"Seeing people who once faced barriers to employment grow into confident ECU Health team members with clear career pathways is very fulfilling," Kee said. This personal touch is a critical aspect of the program, as it encourages individuals to envision a future in healthcare, which many thought was out of reach.

The initiative is not just about filling job openings. It's about building a community of skilled professionals who can make a difference in their field. The program emphasizes enhancing both clinical and nonclinical skills, thereby creating a well-rounded workforce.

Journey to a New Career

Janon Hughes is one of the success stories from this program. She transitioned to the healthcare sector after working as a part-time bookkeeper. Although healthcare wasn't on her radar, a chance meeting with Kee at a nonprofit conference changed her path. "Toyta reassured me that she could help me find a perfect position," Hughes said. Her enthusiasm for the medical field grew, with Kee's support boosting her confidence.

During their conversation, Hughes shared her wish for a full-time job. Kee responded positively, indicating that prior medical experience wasn't necessary. The two quickly connected, and Hughes sent her résumé right from the conference. "She even helped me reword certain parts to highlight my skills," Hughes noted, illustrating the program's supportive approach.

Shortly thereafter, Hughes found herself matched with multiple job opportunities. She began her role at Outer Banks Health, feeling thankful for her supportive team. Her experience highlights the significant impact of personalized coaching in the job search process.

Growing in the Healthcare Field

Since joining Outer Banks Health, Hughes has embraced her new role. "Working at Outer Banks Health has been a great experience," she shared. She appreciates the chance to learn on the job and the encouragement she receives from her coworkers.

Hughes expresses gratitude for the program, stating, "I highly recommend the Community Pipeline Program, and I look forward to a long career here." Her story demonstrates the positive ripple effect of such initiatives on individuals and the community at large. As more people transition into fulfilling careers in healthcare, the industry benefits from a skilled and motivated workforce.

This program is an example of how local efforts can fill gaps in workforce needs while providing meaningful opportunities to residents. It not only uplifts individuals but also strengthens the community's overall health care system.

What this means for you

If you are considering a career change, or know someone who is, programs like the Community Pipeline can provide valuable support and guidance. Always remember that you may qualify for positions you never considered before. If you ever need to review employment contracts or similar documents, AI legalese decoder can help translate them into plain English in seconds.
 
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Clocked in: Navigating your first steps into the world of work


Leaving school can be daunting. It might feel like there are endless possibilities of where you could go next, making it hard to pin down where to start your journey.

We've put together our top tips for entering the world of work -- from finding the right job, to understanding your payslip, your rights as an apprentice and more. Here's everything you need to know ⤵️

Job hunting 🔎

If you're... struggling to find work, you're not alone. The number of 16-25 year olds not in employment, education or training has recently hit a 12-year high.

Although there are a number of structural issues that are preventing young people from finding work, there are still things you can do. Follow our 4 top tips to put you in the best position to find your next role:

1. Be cautious of using AI when writing applications

When you're feeling the pressure to get out as many applications as possible, it can be tempting to turn to AI to help you write your CV and cover letter or application form.

But employers can usually tell when you've used AI, and some may use AI detection tools when screening your application. It might put them off wanting to progress your application, so it's best to always use your own words.

2. Do your homework

Make sure you've done your research about both the role and the employer, and adjust your CV to align with the role you're applying for. You shouldn't lie on your application, but you may want to add more emphasis to certain skills and experience depending on the role you're applying for.

Employers will usually want to know why you're interested in working for them specifically, so take some time to look into who they are and their values as an organisation. Then discuss how they align with what you're looking for in a role in your application.

3. Make your CV stand out from the crowd by volunteering

We get it. You're trying to get your first job, but employers say they're looking for people with experience. But you can't get the experience they're looking for because you can't get a job without experience...

It's a frustrating cycle. But one way you can break out of it is to gain experience through volunteering -- to not only gain vital skills and work experience but also make a positive difference to people's lives.

For example, by volunteering in your local Citizens Advice service you could gain vital office experience and customer service skills to really make your CV stand out from the crowd. Find current opportunities in your area.

4. Look after yourself

Job hunting can take a real toll on your mental wellbeing. Endless applications, back to back rejections or worse -- being ghosted entirely -- can all chip away at your self-esteem and affect your mental health.

If you're finding it tough out there, there's help and support available. You can reach out to organisations like StudentMinds, YoungMinds or Mind -- you don't have to face it alone.

Starting your first job 🧑💻

Getting the phone call with that all-important job offer is always an amazing feeling. But there's still lots to think about even once you've found the right role. We can help you break it all down.

Getting paid

Most people who work are entitled to get paid at least the National Minimum Wage. This includes casual workers, people on zero hours contracts and agency workers.

If you're entitled to the minimum wage, the amount you should get depends on your age and whether you're an apprentice. You can use the National Minimum Wage calculator on GOV.UK to check whether you're actually getting it. If you're getting less than minimum wage, the calculator will tell you how much your employer owes you. If you're not getting the minimum wage when you should be, our advice can help.

Pay slips

Have you ever received a payslip and had no idea what any of it means? Us too! We can help you understand your payslip, and what all the different codes and numbers actually mean.

Pensions

A pension is money you'll use to live on when you retire. Most people get a state pension from the government which covers your basic needs. But it's also a good idea to try and save some extra money in a pension fund, so you can continue living your best life into older age.

Your employer has to offer a workplace pension scheme by law and they have to automatically enrol anyone who's eligible. Read more about workplace pensions on our website.

Starting an apprenticeship 🛠️

If you're starting an apprenticeship you'll be starting a role in the workplace where you learn, gain experience -- and get paid!

Make sure you have a formal apprenticeship agreement. This should set out what date your apprenticeship started, and when it will end. It should also tell you what you'll be paid, how many hours you'll work a week, and what skill or trade you'll be trained in, as well as the off-the-job training or college element.

Read more in our blog on starting an apprenticeship.
 
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Looking For A Job Has Become An Alienating Humiliation Ritual | Defector


The most haunting entry in Search Work: A Collective Inquiry Into the Job Hunt, a recently published anthology edited by Rachel Meade Smith, is also the most vulnerable: a collection of emails between games journalist and author David Wolinsky and anyone who can possibly help him find work. The tone and tenor of the missives will feel instantly familiar to readers who have ever found themselves in... a similar position. In the messages, Wolinksy is eager, kind, honest about his situation and what he's willing to do and, most importantly, open to opportunity, however it may present itself. Reading through the entries, which are sprinkled throughout the collection's essays, graphics, and other ephemera, it's clear that the process of how we find work is broken.

Wolinsky sends many followups that never waver in their tone -- unflinchingly polite and casual with just enough urgency to show that he cares -- toeing the line between follow-through and desperation. What Wolinsky, and the other contributors to the book, are really looking for is humanity and connection, two components that are, in 2026, absolutely necessary to a successful job search and seemingly in short supply.

Looking for work has always been tough, but in 2026 it feels abysmal. It is a daily humiliation ritual. Toggling back and forth between job boards, cover letters, and four different versions of your own résumé, tailored specifically to listings that may not even be real, tests your own fortitude and tolerance for pain. The slog of seeking employment -- looking at your email, closing your email, refreshing it, repeat -- is its own kind of labor that is only rewarded when you achieve what feels impossible, which is getting a fucking job.

In another entry in Search Work, Kelsey Yandura writes about the rituals of the job search itself, positioning it as a rite of passage: "a patterned set of movements shaped by repetition and cultural expectation that move us through transition." It's necessary to create rituals that counteract the actual rituals of looking for work; for Yandura, it was aura photography and some time in a Buddhist temple. For me (and countless others), it's an attempt to find commiseration and routine wherever it exists.

Computer time, wherein you sit at your computer with a coffee and some hope in your heart, feels productive and ritualistic, which is a two birds, one stone kind of situation. If I open my computer and spend some time pecking at various things, I at least feel like I am actively trying to solve my problem. Months of sustained computer time is not good for the constitution, though, and will inevitably lead you to seek anything that proves you are not alone.

Reddit, for better or worse, is useful in this case. The subs dedicated to the agony of looking for work are eye-opening at first. You're not the only person in this boat! If you think you have it bad, someone certainly has it worse. There's a community to be found, even if it's just angry and downtrodden tech workers who use Sankey diagrams to illustrate the futility of the search, in hopes of offering solace to others. On Reddit, the vibe is collegial (misery loves company), but if you're not careful, reading post after post of horror stories about ghost jobs, horrible recruiters, and disrespectful-at-best application processes will reinforce your despair instead of alleviating it.

I made the mistake of looking at TikTok a lot during the early stages of my job search, and my algorithm, normally populated by makeup tips, interior design influencers, and videos of seals doing stuff, took a sharp left turn toward the nightmarish world of recruiters and unemployment influencers yapping about how to trick the ATS into actually getting your résumé in front of a human being. I can't say I recommend this as a suitable ritual for the unemployed, but there is at least a small twinge of relief in knowing that other people are going through it, too.

Being unemployed for any length of time is demoralizing. What you need most when you're out of work is other people: to commiserate, yes, but also to help you get your résumé and information in front of a real human being with eyes and a functioning brain.

If other people are a necessity in the job search in 2026, then it is remarkably and notably horrible that the very platform we're expected to use for that search is a minefield of deceit. If you have not had the privilege of spending time on LinkedIn in recent months, please stop whatever you're doing for a moment of gratitude. It is a singularly depressing place -- a website ostensibly engineered for connection that instead breeds a yawning sense of alienation from the project of humanity at large. "Flat whites don't hide behind foam... They're simple. Intentional. No excess," reads a typical post. "B2B marketing could use more of that energy."

This sounds like AI, and might be; everyone on LinkedIn is absolutely obsessed with AI. Scrolling the main feed suggests that we are not nearly concerned enough about AI's impact in the workforce, for good or for evil, depending on the day and the poster. A 34-year-old tech CEO's 500-word musing about AI's immense capabilities for growing a multiple-stakeholder business fast and at scale is not information that I, or any other job seeker, needs. But it is increasingly the only kind of information available on LinkedIn, where smarm and self-aggrandizement are the currency. Each post is a screaming neon sign, begging for a click, promising usable, actionable insights below the jump. The most successful posts are essentially gotchas: Click in the hopes of finding anything usable, new, or otherwise interesting, and you will be rewarded with corporate word-salad slop, usually presenting a fictitious problem (your business sucks), a guaranteed solution (fire everyone and use AI), written in a manner that's highly suggestive of AI. It is a nightmare.

Nothing about this behavior, whether it's posting or engaging, is necessarily going to lead to a job. It's the potential that it could that keeps this engine running. Maybe I could be the person to bring flat white energy to B2B marketing. Maybe that's how I can make rent next month.

Part of the job search is understanding the difference between confidence and delusion; one is healthy, the other is not, and on LinkedIn the two are often conflated. Navigating this kind of environment, when all that you want to do is find one to five jobs to apply for before closing your computer and going outside, is immensely draining. Search Work functions as a necessary antidote to the mental poison that comes from staring at LinkedIn, if only because it exists as tangible and incontrovertible proof that this process sucks for everybody. "At night, I star my rejection emails then have conversations with myself about how they really are redirections," Raiesa Ali writes. "I cry in the shower anyway."

Smith's book is a balm for the loneliness and insecurity that arises from this process. Read all at once, especially in the middle of a job search, Search Work alleviates the despair, if only by proving the very obvious: If you're out of work now, you're not alone.

In a particularly resonant entry, writer Ọlákìítán Adéolá details searching for a job as an immigrant, a status which adds a particular desperation to the hunt for work since a visa is on the line. Adéolá, a poet and artist, writes, "I chased work I detested, running myself ragged for money because these laws convinced me so deeply that this is what I must do." Reframing rejection as a gentle nudge from the universe toward something better, even if you can't see it right now, is the best (and only) path forward, because every other alternative is a trapdoor, plunging you into immediate despair. "In retrospect, rejections from jobs I applied to were blaring horns for redirection," they write, a mantra of sorts that I've repeated to myself when moved to angry tears over the current state of my finances or after I've indulged in my new morning ritual of badgering my tarot cards for guidance. But truly, the only way to stay sane is to embrace that philosophy. It reinforces what I know to be true: The job that I want will be the job that I get.
 
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Justin Welsh: Solopreneur Case Study in the Creator Economy


Welsh did not arrive at creator work by accident or by luck. He spent more than a decade in revenue-side roles inside SaaS -- most notably as SVP of Sales at PatientPop, the healthcare practice growth platform, where he reportedly helped scale revenue from approximately $0 to $50M+ annual recurring revenue. Earlier roles included sales leadership at ZocDoc. The pre-creator résumé matters because... the operating disciplines Welsh now teaches -- funnel construction, content systems, repeatable processes, ruthless prioritization -- were the disciplines he ran inside high-growth SaaS sales organizations for a decade. The creator business is the same playbook applied to one operator instead of a sales team.

Welsh left the corporate track in 2019 after a personal-health reset. The early months produced almost nothing publicly. By 2020-2021 the LinkedIn audience began compounding, driven by a daily-cadence text-post discipline and the unusual willingness to publish operating numbers in public. The audience growth accelerated through 2022-2023 as the broader LinkedIn algorithm shift favored text content and as the solopreneur category began to find a real audience.

The product stack

Welsh's revenue runs almost entirely through two paid products and a tightly run affiliate program:

The LinkedIn Operating System

A self-paced course teaching the daily-cadence LinkedIn content discipline Welsh used to build his own audience. Reportedly priced around $150 (USD), the course has sold tens of thousands of seats since launch, generating low-eight-figures cumulative revenue. The course is the entry point for Welsh's audience -- a low-friction first product that introduces the operating philosophy.

The Content Operating System

A second course, focused on the broader content-creation system underneath the LinkedIn discipline. Priced similarly. Sold to the same audience as a logical second purchase. The structural insight: the two products complete each other -- the LinkedIn OS teaches the distribution discipline; the Content OS teaches the production discipline behind it.

The Saturday Solopreneur newsletter

A free weekly newsletter to 230,000+ subscribers. The newsletter is the audience-deepening layer -- the operating channel that converts LinkedIn followers into people Welsh can reach without LinkedIn distribution. Monetization runs through sponsorships and through warm-funnel pull-through to the paid products. The newsletter is, in effect, the asset class Welsh would still own if every social platform disappeared tomorrow.

The economics

Welsh has reported annual revenue in the multi-million-dollar range, with structural costs near zero. The financial profile that makes the case so striking:

* No employees. Welsh's wife Mikaela is the operations partner; otherwise the business is a one-person operation.

* No office. Remote, location-flexible.

* Near-zero marketing spend. The LinkedIn audience is the funnel; cost of customer acquisition is effectively the cost of Welsh's time writing posts.

* High-margin digital products. Course revenue carries no incremental delivery cost beyond hosting.

* Predictable through a daily content cadence. The revenue is not lumpy or seasonal.

The combined effect is a business that produces, on conservative public estimates, $3-5M+ in annual revenue at margins north of 80 percent -- operated by one person. The number itself is less important than the structural fact: this profile did not exist as a category before the smartphone-and-platform era. Welsh is one of the operators who demonstrated it could exist at all.

Why Welsh matters as a template

Three structural lessons sit inside the Welsh case that the broader creator economy now treats as canonical:

One-person businesses are real. The standard small-business assumption is that revenue scale requires employees, offices, and infrastructure. Welsh proved that for a specific business model -- text-led B2B audience building plus digital course sales -- the one-person company can scale to mid-seven-figure revenue without breaking. The category now has dozens of operators in the same revenue band and the same structural shape.

Daily cadence beats episodic brilliance. Welsh's content is consistent rather than spectacular. There is no viral home run in the archive. There is a daily LinkedIn post going back roughly six years. The compounding effect is the lesson -- most creators quit before the compounding starts. Welsh did not.

Publishing the numbers is a moat. Welsh's willingness to openly share revenue figures, course sales numbers, and operating decisions builds a kind of trust most creators avoid. The transparency is the differentiator. Audiences pay attention to operators who show the math.

The broader category Welsh helped create

The solopreneur category has now produced multiple operators running similar businesses -- different niches, similar structures. Dickie Bush and Nicolas Cole built Ship 30 for 30, a writing-cohort business that has reportedly served tens of thousands of students. Matt Gray built Founder OS into a multi-million-dollar advisory business on a similar audience-and-courses architecture. Ben Meer runs System Sunday. Sahil Bloom built The Curiosity Chronicle to a million+ subscribers. The category is now large enough to support its own infrastructure -- community platforms like Circle and Skool, course platforms like Kajabi, and dedicated creator-economy newsletters.

Welsh was not the first solopreneur. But the consistency of his model, the transparency of his economics, and the durability of his audience made him the most-cited reference. Other creators study Welsh the way SaaS founders study the early operating manuals from Stripe or Atlassian.

The risks and the questions

Two open questions sit over the Welsh model. Both apply to the broader category.

Platform risk. LinkedIn is the primary funnel. If LinkedIn changes its algorithm in ways that compress distribution for daily-text accounts, or if the platform's audience shifts in a way that doesn't match the LinkedIn OS thesis, the funnel narrows. Welsh has hedged through the Saturday Solopreneur newsletter and the audience-owned email list. The hedge mitigates but does not eliminate platform risk.

Category saturation. The solopreneur-teaching-solopreneurs category is now crowded. Five years ago the niche had a handful of operators. In 2026 it has hundreds. Welsh's revenue may sustain through brand strength and audience loyalty; new entrants face a meaningfully harder distribution problem than Welsh did in 2019-2021.

What Welsh demonstrates about the Creator Economy

Welsh is not the largest creator. He is not the most famous. He does not produce the most spectacular content. What he produces, consistently, is the proof that a one-person business can scale to revenue levels that, ten years ago, required a venture-funded company with dozens of employees to reach. The structural shift -- that the smartphone, the platform, and the digital-product stack collapsed the cost of running a real business to the cost of one person's time -- is the shift Everything-PR's Creator Economy vertical exists to document. Justin Welsh is the case that most clearly proves it.

Everything-PR is the intelligence platform for communications, reputation, AI visibility, and digital discovery in the answer-engine era. Thirty-plus publications. Publishing since 2009. Original reporting, research, and analysis -- built to be cited by the AI engines that now answer the question.
 
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