The Dead Company Club

I hadn’t planned on writing a resume ever again, even after my company died. With my background and contacts I expected my choice of interviews, a warm reception, and eager offers.

Dumb. I waited for employers to call. I didn’t acknowledge that the market was saturated with job seekers at all levels. Demand faded after the first wave of hiring. I’d missed my chance.

Reluctantly I sat down and wrote a long, detailed resume. It was beautifully laid out, full of buzz words and well-known client names. There were impressive facts and figures to quantify my successes. I delivered it to executive placement firms, sent it to a few well-placed contacts, and posted it online.

Hotter Than Expected

The responses I got blew me away. Employers responded to my resume with:

Discrimination. There was no way they could hire someone who had been steeped in the tainted culture of my former company. By association, I must be corrupt too.

Curiosity. I interviewed with two firms who focused their questions on what had really happened at my former company. There weren’t any open positions. They just wanted the inside scoop. Pathetic.

Taunting. “Now you’re asking me for a job when you wouldn’t hire me before. What a small world.”

Paranoia.  Some potential employers expressed vague fears about credibility problems that might plague them – and me – if they brought me on.

Disbelief. “Why would you want this job?” Well, because the recruiter told me it was an opportunity to create something bigger than its title. Plus I needed it.

Opportunism. Three employers made lowball offers, trying to hire me at less than the going rate because I must be desperate.

In short, my resume was radioactive. Some ran from it, some couldn’t help but stare, and others wanted to figure out how to take advantage of it. It gradually leeched my self-esteem until I stopped sending the damn thing out.

The Decontamination Process

I torched my “personal brochure” and wrote a real resume. I eliminated the details and used a standard layout so it looked like everyone else’s. I also set some ground rules with head hunters and asked more questions before scheduling interviews. And I accepted that there would still be fallout. I had to shrink my ego, toughen up, and accept my circumstances. I didn’t like it, but now I appreciate how hard it is to keep your self-esteem intact when you find yourself looking for a job involuntarily.

What experiences did you have when you submitted your resume?

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