FIRST PERSON

From Job Candidate to Stalker

For a new Ph.D. searching for her first job in her field, the line between the two can be blurry

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By MARIE KINGVIEW

The job search has made me feel, and do, a lot of crazy things so far. I've stalked potential employees, worn heels, thrown myself on a bed in a way reminiscent of my teenage years, and snatched my CV away from a potential employer — all in the course of one day. That day shall go down in infamy as "My first corporate job fair."

My field is in applied-health research and, as I mentioned in my first column, I am considering both academic and nonacademic jobs. I had never really been to a corporate job fair before, so I did my research. There would be a lot of booths, a lot of people, and a lot of selling myself and talking.

I can do that. At the age of 2, when no one would go with me on a walk, I just took the dog and went. Independence and confidence are not a problem for me, but just in case, I always have the German shepherd of preparation. I looked at all of the companies attending the fair, I read their Web sites, and I prepared an opening line, "From looking at your Web site, I see that you do not have any current jobs which are a good fit for me, but I would like to give you my CV because I noticed ..." I even searched for information on job fairs themselves to see what times were the least likely to be busy so I would have the full attention of the recruiters. I was ready.

But I wasn't. I got there and I just froze. I have no idea why. I think it was because I quickly realized that I should not have been there. Yes, some of these companies had interests similar to my own, but they didn't send the recruiters for those positions. After giving my big prepared speech to blank stares a few times, I just started wandering around, looking for something that might work, determined to salvage the day.

That's when I saw it. The booth of a place where I had already applied. The company was in the process of moving and had notified me that it would not hire anyone new until the spring but would get back to me then. So, I thought, great! I'll go over and check it out as an outsider. I don't have a name tag; the people in the booth don't know who I am. If nothing else, I'll walk away feeling smart because I'll be able to ask and answer questions that make sense. That will get my confidence back!

One question in and they figured out who I was. The recruiter told me it was nice to put a face with the name and said the company would definitely be calling me in the spring.

Then, in spite of my public-speaking experience and general-life skills, I went on and on about myself. Until she told me how nice it was to meet me once again. Then I got the hint. Even though there was no one else waiting to talk, even though I was perfect for the job, I was getting the brushoff.

I gathered up my dignity, thanked her again, and walked away. Then, like some high-school girl who is desperately trying to get her boyfriend's attention by flirting with another guy, I went to another booth to show how crazy popular I was. As I casually glanced at the previous recruiter while midspeech to see if she was looking, the current recruiter asked, "What's a CV?"

In a fit of misplaced rage, I grabbed my precious CV back and snapped, "If you don't even know what a CV is, then you don't get one!" and walked off in a huff. My indignant walk would have been much more effective had I not felt like a 5-year-old and, worse, looked like one playing dress-up as I tottered away in my seldom-worn heels.

Five minutes later I'm sitting in my car with flushed cheeks, two throbbing ankles, and a stack of unused CV's.

While icing my ankles, I gathered up my dignity, again, and realized I needed help. I called the career-services office at my university. A few short days later, I had an appointment, advice on my CV and cover letters, and a pep talk.

I'll admit I was skeptical that the visit would make a difference, but the career counselor I met worked exclusively with graduate students and was comfortable answering my questions. Which was great, because a lot of my questions were the sort you don't normally ask your advisers — for example, How do I know I'm talking to the right people?

That recently was an issue for me in applying for one of my dream jobs. A friend of a friend who had once held the job was willing to give me the lowdown on the department. My inside source told me not to mention the contacts I had in the department because its faculty members had taken sides in a schism between two schools of thought. Lucky me, I'm right on the fault line, applying for a job in one camp while my contacts are in another. Not only does that complicate my job search, but it makes me wonder what it would be like to work there, on the off chance I get hired.

I was happy to have the information, but then I started to wonder how internal politics would affect my other applications. What if I didn't get hired because I previously worked with someone that a committee member didn't like? What if I didn't cite the work of a committee member? What if I had the same name as a committee member's ex-wife who keyed his new Jag and took the dog? Some days, when I think about all of the variables, it feels like I'm fighting impossible odds.

The counselor at career services suggested I do thorough research on each department. I might not find out who hates whom, but I would gain some additional insights into the culture of each department.

My next question for her: What is the difference between stalking and "doing your research"?

I have to admit, after "the job-fair incident," I was starting to feel like I was one boiled bunny away from becoming a stalker. Clearly, it's acceptable to look at the employer's Web site, but were any links fair game?

Whenever I started to get three or more degrees of separation away from the original Web site, I started to feel a little creepy, especially when my search led me to faculty members' personal Web pages or their CV's. Is it wrong to look at their class outlines to see what course materials they use? No. Is it wrong to Google them to see what they've published? Not really. Is it wrong when the links lead you to their personal Web sites? Probably. Should I be looking at pictures of their kids, pets, and softball teams? Definitely not.

But here's the thing: Why is it that I am even able to look at that stuff? People really should be more careful about what they put online, especially when they are public figures. When I found out the amount of information I could access about other people, I quickly started changing all of my privacy settings and links. I'm not saying that people who get stalked deserve it; I'm just saying that all of us — job seekers and employers — need to be more careful or we're going to end up on the wrong end of a Google search. And yes, I am saying this as I write under a pseudonym hoping that no one figures out who I am.

I've learned the job search requires a lot of care and attention to detail. I've had so many things come up that never even occurred to me before. I never thought to Google myself to see what was "out there" until I Googled others. I didn't know anything about corporate job fairs. I didn't know how to interview or how much talking was too much. It is still a mystery to me why my only pair of workable dress shoes are brown when I don't own a single pair of brown dress pants.

I was prepared, but I wasn't. I was sane, but I'm clearly not. I thought I knew what lines not to cross, but instead I find myself wobbling past them in ill-fitting shoes.

Marie Kingview is the pseudonym of a Ph.D. candidate in the humanities who does applied-health research. She is chronicling her search for her first tenure-track job. To reach her first column, click here.