Still about the last entry… I mean, still about the interview with the CEO.
From the outset he vowed not to ask competency-based questions, yet he couldn’t resist. You know, my CV lying on the desk, in front of him, with qualifications and skills which could be seen as sheer pretence – or perhaps not, but when one is a foreigner, sometimes scepticism plays loosely.
Competency-based questions were asked, one to be sure. “You wrote here that you have strong copywriting skills. I’ve read your blog using Google translator. Undoubtedly you are eloquent in your mother tong. Besides, whoever speaks two, three idioms like you, has my deepest respect. I can, with great effort, construct a few statements in French, and my Italian is appalling. However, the position you’ve applied for is in English. I can attest that you speak English fluently; in fact you speak very well. On the other hand, to write in English is a complete different matter. Therefore, how can I be certain that I can use your copywriting skills with us?”
That was unexpected. How would I prove that I could write in English? Above all, how would I prove that I could write competently and convincingly? I had nothing in hands to back my words. I was only able to provide a post-interview proof. “You can see as per CV that I’m doing a diploma in marketing. On this course I have to write one assignment with three thousand words and two with one thousand and five hundred words each for each module. I can send you one assignment for your checking.” The deal was gladly accepted.
At home, not satisfied in delivering a ready-made piece of writing which, who knows, could still sound dubious, and having an on-line platform myself, namely my blog, I decided to write an entry in English with fresh and interview-related content so that, hopefully, I could once and for all rest my case. I sent him my assignment and mentioned about the new entry, and after went to bed in peace.
All this story remounts me to when I was learning English and the book Dead Poets Society.
I arrived in London speaking no English whatsoever. Whenever someone spoke to me, it sounded like a compact uttering of unintelligible words. That was over six years past. After about eight months, I decided to get down to some reading. I had already acquired some books, due to my passion for reading and writing, but the only audacity I would afford was to affectionately worship them with the tip of my fingers. Then a friend of mine suggested Dead Poets Society: “I have it and can lend it to you. It’s easy to read. The books you have are very difficult for beginners. If I were you I would stick to what is easy at this stage. Afterwards, slowly you venture into your books.” So I did.
With the book in hands and two dictionaries attached – one English-English and one English-Portuguese / Portuguese-English – I started the painful craft. The most vivid recollection I have from those days is me in the solitude of my large single room, sitting on a comfortable armchair, wrapped up to protect from the cold winter, with the book in hands and the dictionaries on my lap. I used to spend, literally, an hour on each page. Not because I had to, but I couldn’t admit jumping to the next page by following the easy path of ignoring some words for the sake of a speedy completion. It was an exercise of patience to the core. Resilience and stubbornness were at stake. The herculean effort proved fundamental for the learning process thereupon. And the book, well, I shamefully didn’t hand it back but kept it dearly with me as a deserved trophy.
From reading to writing was a matter of time and practice. For both, there is still a long way ahead, to learn and to prove. But at least I have something to show.
Wednesday 16 September 2009
Saturday 12 September 2009
A different interview
I have been closely scrutinised by strangers lately, or to give you a precise period, since April. I will explain.
Partly willingly and partly forced, I decided to change my job or, as people normally say, to move on to pastures new. I quite enjoyed the challenge of an interview, those precious minutes when a good chunk is at stake and, in spite of all the psychological pressure, you have to make the best out of that moment. I dare say: it’s a dignifying experience, or may well be considered as such, for not only are you having the opportunity to expose what you have best but you are also running against all the odds.
I was resolute in my success for “at the end of the day,” I said to myself, “I live in London, this vibrant professional market with opportunities close to hand to everyone.” But my assessment proved ill.
Hundreds of applications, dozens of telephone calls from recruiters, a few interviews. Through recruiters I found out that thousands of people are out in the market looking for a job, well-qualified (and unemployed) people who are on purpose downgrading their expectation in order to get a job. By being interviewed I also found out, to my astonishment, that before being shortlisted for the first stage of the recruitment process I was running for the position with over one hundred candidates. One vacancy, more than one hundred CVs! The picture started to be not that attractive.
I had a few interviews, as I said. And I must confess – the prospect of an interview, actually the taking place of one, unveils an entire world. It’s like a fairy tale, full of imagination, expectations, dreams. After a while and a few interviews you start to tame your feelings, it’s true. Yet they are there, waiting for an opportunity to erupt.
The format of these interviews was similar. The behaviour of the interviewers, to a certain extent, had some similarity too. They were rather formal and followed some formal procedure. They were managers – at times, managers and directors. They went with me through my CV in meetings which lasted on average 45 minutes. On the second stage of the recruitment process, invariably, I had a task to undertake and present, be it in slide or otherwise. So it had been until last week.
It happened that I came across with a company, my last interview, which gave me a complete different picture of a recruitment process, and made a positive impression on me.
Firstly, the premises. I was used to wonderful premises but this one looked like a warehouse. (It actually is, with offices adapted.) Then came the interview, which was with the Head of Marketing. Pretty informal. Competency-based questions mostly; going through my CV as usual. I was successful. As to the second stage, no task but another interview, at this time with the CEO. I thought to myself: “It’s odd to see the CEO involved in the recruitment of such a junior position.” I was trying to figure out, in vain, what could come next. I stopped wondering and went for it.
The company has a culture of which everyone is proud and by all means fight to preserve it and bring in like-minded people, so I was told. From the very beginning the interview was informal. “Our most valuable assets are our people and our financial resources. The employees make use of the money in the best possible way in order to achieve the best results. That’s why I need the right people in the business. I’m not here to sell you the position; I’m here to explain to you how the company works and what we consider important so that we can both come to the conclusion if we can work together. Therefore I won’t ask you competency-based questions for I believe this was already covered in the previous interview. Nor will I go through your CV in details. In reality I would like to know you better, so I will ask you some personal questions and will give you the opportunity to ask me questions as well.” So we went for an hour.
I felt I was before an astute and intelligent guy, someone with sharp eyes and nostrils able to spot and smell a good opportunity afar. Automatically I understood why the CEO was involved in the recruitment of a junior staff. He was doing business, was taking care of what the company holds paramount, namely its employees. For the first time during these months I had a genuine belief in a recruitment process.
Partly willingly and partly forced, I decided to change my job or, as people normally say, to move on to pastures new. I quite enjoyed the challenge of an interview, those precious minutes when a good chunk is at stake and, in spite of all the psychological pressure, you have to make the best out of that moment. I dare say: it’s a dignifying experience, or may well be considered as such, for not only are you having the opportunity to expose what you have best but you are also running against all the odds.
I was resolute in my success for “at the end of the day,” I said to myself, “I live in London, this vibrant professional market with opportunities close to hand to everyone.” But my assessment proved ill.
Hundreds of applications, dozens of telephone calls from recruiters, a few interviews. Through recruiters I found out that thousands of people are out in the market looking for a job, well-qualified (and unemployed) people who are on purpose downgrading their expectation in order to get a job. By being interviewed I also found out, to my astonishment, that before being shortlisted for the first stage of the recruitment process I was running for the position with over one hundred candidates. One vacancy, more than one hundred CVs! The picture started to be not that attractive.
I had a few interviews, as I said. And I must confess – the prospect of an interview, actually the taking place of one, unveils an entire world. It’s like a fairy tale, full of imagination, expectations, dreams. After a while and a few interviews you start to tame your feelings, it’s true. Yet they are there, waiting for an opportunity to erupt.
The format of these interviews was similar. The behaviour of the interviewers, to a certain extent, had some similarity too. They were rather formal and followed some formal procedure. They were managers – at times, managers and directors. They went with me through my CV in meetings which lasted on average 45 minutes. On the second stage of the recruitment process, invariably, I had a task to undertake and present, be it in slide or otherwise. So it had been until last week.
It happened that I came across with a company, my last interview, which gave me a complete different picture of a recruitment process, and made a positive impression on me.
Firstly, the premises. I was used to wonderful premises but this one looked like a warehouse. (It actually is, with offices adapted.) Then came the interview, which was with the Head of Marketing. Pretty informal. Competency-based questions mostly; going through my CV as usual. I was successful. As to the second stage, no task but another interview, at this time with the CEO. I thought to myself: “It’s odd to see the CEO involved in the recruitment of such a junior position.” I was trying to figure out, in vain, what could come next. I stopped wondering and went for it.
The company has a culture of which everyone is proud and by all means fight to preserve it and bring in like-minded people, so I was told. From the very beginning the interview was informal. “Our most valuable assets are our people and our financial resources. The employees make use of the money in the best possible way in order to achieve the best results. That’s why I need the right people in the business. I’m not here to sell you the position; I’m here to explain to you how the company works and what we consider important so that we can both come to the conclusion if we can work together. Therefore I won’t ask you competency-based questions for I believe this was already covered in the previous interview. Nor will I go through your CV in details. In reality I would like to know you better, so I will ask you some personal questions and will give you the opportunity to ask me questions as well.” So we went for an hour.
I felt I was before an astute and intelligent guy, someone with sharp eyes and nostrils able to spot and smell a good opportunity afar. Automatically I understood why the CEO was involved in the recruitment of a junior staff. He was doing business, was taking care of what the company holds paramount, namely its employees. For the first time during these months I had a genuine belief in a recruitment process.
Friday 11 September 2009
O hidalgo
Dias atrás minha esposa me perguntou: “Qual o melhor livro que você já leu?” Emendei, quase que sem pensar e já orgulhoso da minha convicção: “Don Quixote.”
O livro de Miguel de Cervantes foi escolhido como o melhor de todos os tempos, um deus onipresente que das alturas cruza gerações com um encanto inabalável. Dizem alguns que o livro é uma apologia a loucura, por isso – e por outras, quem sabe? – não merece tamanha honraria. Ridículo.
Don quixote é uma apologia ao sonho, uma obra de virtudes inigualáveis; cômica, de ação, por vezes dramática, cristã até. Mas nunca, jamais, desinteressante. A famosa passagem dos moinhos de vento, confundidos com gigantes, dá o debut das aventuras. Outra, com uma narrativa belíssima, é a do discurso de comparação entre os homens de letras e os homens das armas. Sancho Panza e sua relação de descrença e amor por Don Quixote, a fictícia deusa grega Dulcinea del Toboso, o cavalo Rocinante, a família Panza. Ao longo do livro os ditados populares são uma atração à parte.
Lembro de uma frase de outrora de que um livro que não merece uma segunda leitura não é digno de ser lido nem a primeira vez. Nelson Rodrigues costumava dizer que os livros foram feitos para serem lidos e relidos e relidos. Com tanta coisa para se ler e tão pouco tempo disponível, só um merecimento incontestável, este dedicado aos grandes, para fazer jus a releitura. Don Quixote se alça triunfante no prazer de repetir. Um ícone quase que solitário.
O livro de Miguel de Cervantes foi escolhido como o melhor de todos os tempos, um deus onipresente que das alturas cruza gerações com um encanto inabalável. Dizem alguns que o livro é uma apologia a loucura, por isso – e por outras, quem sabe? – não merece tamanha honraria. Ridículo.
Don quixote é uma apologia ao sonho, uma obra de virtudes inigualáveis; cômica, de ação, por vezes dramática, cristã até. Mas nunca, jamais, desinteressante. A famosa passagem dos moinhos de vento, confundidos com gigantes, dá o debut das aventuras. Outra, com uma narrativa belíssima, é a do discurso de comparação entre os homens de letras e os homens das armas. Sancho Panza e sua relação de descrença e amor por Don Quixote, a fictícia deusa grega Dulcinea del Toboso, o cavalo Rocinante, a família Panza. Ao longo do livro os ditados populares são uma atração à parte.
Lembro de uma frase de outrora de que um livro que não merece uma segunda leitura não é digno de ser lido nem a primeira vez. Nelson Rodrigues costumava dizer que os livros foram feitos para serem lidos e relidos e relidos. Com tanta coisa para se ler e tão pouco tempo disponível, só um merecimento incontestável, este dedicado aos grandes, para fazer jus a releitura. Don Quixote se alça triunfante no prazer de repetir. Um ícone quase que solitário.
Monday 13 April 2009
Curta nota de um domingo de Páscoa
Com os anos passando e as pessoas queridas tambem, hoje mais do que nunca, procuro refúgio na família. Dizem os mais pessimistas que esta, como conceito, está se acabando.
No livro Adventures of a bystander, o falecido Peter Drucker, aquele cunhado como pai da administração, mas que, na minha opinião, foi o primo mais próximo do bom senso, e de tão genial ele escolheu o anonimato e caiu, para azar do mundo e sorte ou prudência da própria integridade, nas mãos da ainda por nascer Administração de Empresas. Mas enfim, como falava, Peter Drucker disse que o pecado capital do nosso século é a indiferença.
É natural ser indiferente, ou, se preferirem, descuidado na atenção, com coisas que não fazem parte do nosso mundo. Portanto, por exemplo, o mundo infantil só abre os portões celestiais à sua atenção quando você passa a fazer parte dele. Essa foi uma das primeiras afirmações da minha esposa. “Descobri um mundo que jamais havia notado.” O pecado é a indiferença para com o sofrimento; mais, para com o sofrimento dos nossos. E os nossos, invariavelmente, são os familiares.
Que Deus me ilumine para que eu possa cultivar a habilidade artesanal de venerar e honrar a instituição mais preciosa que existe. Sem a família, somos todos órfãos; um mundo de indigentes viciados e doentes.
No livro Adventures of a bystander, o falecido Peter Drucker, aquele cunhado como pai da administração, mas que, na minha opinião, foi o primo mais próximo do bom senso, e de tão genial ele escolheu o anonimato e caiu, para azar do mundo e sorte ou prudência da própria integridade, nas mãos da ainda por nascer Administração de Empresas. Mas enfim, como falava, Peter Drucker disse que o pecado capital do nosso século é a indiferença.
É natural ser indiferente, ou, se preferirem, descuidado na atenção, com coisas que não fazem parte do nosso mundo. Portanto, por exemplo, o mundo infantil só abre os portões celestiais à sua atenção quando você passa a fazer parte dele. Essa foi uma das primeiras afirmações da minha esposa. “Descobri um mundo que jamais havia notado.” O pecado é a indiferença para com o sofrimento; mais, para com o sofrimento dos nossos. E os nossos, invariavelmente, são os familiares.
Que Deus me ilumine para que eu possa cultivar a habilidade artesanal de venerar e honrar a instituição mais preciosa que existe. Sem a família, somos todos órfãos; um mundo de indigentes viciados e doentes.
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