As Q1 winds down and the days between me and my Marketing final tick away, I've thought a lot about what has made these first few weeks at Darden so tough. Some of these things (panic over a new identity, lack of adequate sleep and nutrition, etc.) I've already touched on. But here's a big one I've been pondering lately ... the need to ask for help.
Like many of my classmates, I arrived here in Charlottesville completely comfortable (and accustomed to) blazing my own trail and taking care of myself along the way. If I had a problem, I dealt with it and then reveled in that satisfying feeling of self-sufficiency. It sounds extreme, but I hated --almost viscerally-- having to reach out and ask for help. Rightly or wrongly (wrongly as it turned out), I equated help with weakness, and worse, reliance.
Hah. It took less than a week of classes to realize my previous go-it-alone style would leave me ill-equipped to deal with the rigors of Darden. Here, where I had cases to prepare, spreadsheets to build and accounting metrics to learn, I was out of my element and overwhelmed. If I didn't learn to rely on my peers, on my learning team and on my new friends, I simply wouldn't make it.
Since then, I've made a concerted effort to ask for help. Perhaps this sounds natural, even easy, but for someone who prides herself on her independence and grit, it's taken some getting used to. In reaching out to people and relying on them, I've had to confront the long-held belief that I could do everything --and anything-- entirely on my own. As I continue to come to grips with the fact that I can't and really, shouldn't, I've found that I'm learning more; that people are a lot more receptive to my questions than I thought they would be; and that maybe, just maybe, it's not so bad to show a little weakness now and then.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Back at it
Well, it's Monday again. Crazy how quick it comes, even after a three-day weekend. Yet this week, I've decided to try and do things a little differently: I've decided to make a conscious effort to work on my Darden/life balance. What does that mean?
First off, eating. This weekend, I went shopping for the first time in months. And, while trying on skirts at J.Crew, I noticed that my usual size was fitting a lot looser than it did pre-B-school. Typically, a realization like this would be welcome. But not when you know full-well that it comes as a result of not eating for so long that your growling stomach is audible from across the room.
Second, working out. In my real life, I'm a 6 to 7 day-a-week gym-goer. I know that sounds excessive, but for me, the gym is the place where I go to de-stress and let off some steam. Exercise keeps me sane. And believe me, I feel it when I don't go. Take last week 's minor meltdown as an example...
Third, downtime. Much as I love dissecting cases late into the night with my learning team, there comes a point when I need to pull myself away, steal half an hour for myself and relax. Sometimes this involves sharing a glass of wine with my roommate; other times, it's picking up a copy of The New Yorker and remembering the world outside Charlottesville. Recently, it's meant curling up on the couch with my significant other.
So there you have it, my plan for a balanced Darden existence. We'll see how realistic it proves to be.
First off, eating. This weekend, I went shopping for the first time in months. And, while trying on skirts at J.Crew, I noticed that my usual size was fitting a lot looser than it did pre-B-school. Typically, a realization like this would be welcome. But not when you know full-well that it comes as a result of not eating for so long that your growling stomach is audible from across the room.
Second, working out. In my real life, I'm a 6 to 7 day-a-week gym-goer. I know that sounds excessive, but for me, the gym is the place where I go to de-stress and let off some steam. Exercise keeps me sane. And believe me, I feel it when I don't go. Take last week 's minor meltdown as an example...
Third, downtime. Much as I love dissecting cases late into the night with my learning team, there comes a point when I need to pull myself away, steal half an hour for myself and relax. Sometimes this involves sharing a glass of wine with my roommate; other times, it's picking up a copy of The New Yorker and remembering the world outside Charlottesville. Recently, it's meant curling up on the couch with my significant other.
So there you have it, my plan for a balanced Darden existence. We'll see how realistic it proves to be.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Yay Thursday!
So excited about the end of a particularly trying week! But before I begin the weekend revelry, I wanted to type up some thoughts on a subject that gets Darden's halls a-buzzing: Business school dating.
A couple weeks ago, a friend of mine suggested I pick up the latest copy of "MBA Jungle." I had no idea what I'd find or why he'd suggested it. Then I saw the cover: "Study Partners," it read, "8 Laws of B-School Dating."
The article inside is hilarious. But perhaps more importantly, it drives home some interesting points. One is that relationships (and here I'm talking about inter-school relationships) become fodder for the rumor mill at breakneck speed.
As one-half of a new Darden relationship, I've experienced this first-hand. I've gotten the looks and answered the questions:
Q: "Are you dating?"
A: "Uhhh ... yes."
Q: "And how long have you known eachother?"
A: "A week and a half."
Harmless. Funny, even. And, as more and more of us pair off (and according to "MBA Jungle," we will), I think that's a good thing to note. Yes, it's weird dating in a very high school-like environment. But it can also be great. You just have to shrug off the winks and whispers.
A couple weeks ago, a friend of mine suggested I pick up the latest copy of "MBA Jungle." I had no idea what I'd find or why he'd suggested it. Then I saw the cover: "Study Partners," it read, "8 Laws of B-School Dating."
The article inside is hilarious. But perhaps more importantly, it drives home some interesting points. One is that relationships (and here I'm talking about inter-school relationships) become fodder for the rumor mill at breakneck speed.
As one-half of a new Darden relationship, I've experienced this first-hand. I've gotten the looks and answered the questions:
Q: "Are you dating?"
A: "Uhhh ... yes."
Q: "And how long have you known eachother?"
A: "A week and a half."
Harmless. Funny, even. And, as more and more of us pair off (and according to "MBA Jungle," we will), I think that's a good thing to note. Yes, it's weird dating in a very high school-like environment. But it can also be great. You just have to shrug off the winks and whispers.
Reinvention
It's resume-polishing time at Darden and the hours I've spent trying to craft interesting and engaging bullet points have made me a bit self-aware. Add to that a particularly salient Leading Organizations discussion on identity, and I've become downright introspective.
For the past three years, I've worked as a reporter in a relatively small town -- a town small enough that I'd see my sources everywhere from the cereal aisle at the grocery store, to the stairmaster at the gym and the barstool at the local watering hole. Everywhere I went, I was conscious of representing my newspaper and my work. I was a journalist, and everyone, it seemed, knew it.
So what happens now that I'm not; now that I have the opportunity to redefine who I am and what I do?
To be honest, I've struggled. Stepping away from a job as public and as 24-hour as mine, has really forced me to think about what I want out of life and the kind of impact I want to make. And that's a scary thing. For the first time since I graduated from college, I'm asking myself life's "big questions."
Admittedly, I'm not the only one. A large number of my current classmates are also career switchers and they too are being asked (through a particularly aggressive schedule of briefings and recruiting events) to reinvent themselves as prospective consultants, bankers and managers.
But I always thought of myself as the girl with the plan. The girl who knew what she wanted and had only to figure out a way to get it. So maybe I really face two identity issues now: who am I now that I'm not a reporter? And who am I now that I have no idea where I'll be in two years?
For the past three years, I've worked as a reporter in a relatively small town -- a town small enough that I'd see my sources everywhere from the cereal aisle at the grocery store, to the stairmaster at the gym and the barstool at the local watering hole. Everywhere I went, I was conscious of representing my newspaper and my work. I was a journalist, and everyone, it seemed, knew it.
So what happens now that I'm not; now that I have the opportunity to redefine who I am and what I do?
To be honest, I've struggled. Stepping away from a job as public and as 24-hour as mine, has really forced me to think about what I want out of life and the kind of impact I want to make. And that's a scary thing. For the first time since I graduated from college, I'm asking myself life's "big questions."
Admittedly, I'm not the only one. A large number of my current classmates are also career switchers and they too are being asked (through a particularly aggressive schedule of briefings and recruiting events) to reinvent themselves as prospective consultants, bankers and managers.
But I always thought of myself as the girl with the plan. The girl who knew what she wanted and had only to figure out a way to get it. So maybe I really face two identity issues now: who am I now that I'm not a reporter? And who am I now that I have no idea where I'll be in two years?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
