New Archive:

September 2000 Issue, Volume 2

New Job, New Chances

By David Krell

With the Jewish New Year approaching, we're getting ready to atone for our sins and wipe the slate clean. Even if we only go to synagogue for those few days out of the entire year, we'll feel fulfilled. The rabbi's sermon will inevitably hit on the points of family, values, and religion. Often, a rabbi will take the opportunity to talk about work and taking time off or slowing down to attend services, observe Shabbat, or just spend quality time with family. We'll patiently listen and wonder why the advice seems valid in the abstract, but somehow work priorities edge out our personal needs. Maybe the answer is a new job--one that will allow us flex time to pursue our personal goals and fulfillment.

I'm on my fourth job in a relatively short period of time, so I'm somewhat of an expert on the subject. One thing I've always found to be true is that after the euphoria of leaving the old place fades--the prospects and promises of more professional, personal, and financial opportunity--the same problems appear in any situation.

Inevitably, I've encountered at least one extremely unhappy person who bursts my bubble during my honeymoon phase on the new job. It usually begins with me saying innocently, "What's up?" Then, I get a 10-minute diatribe beginning with my fellow employee's slow shake of the head from side to side. The usual statement is something like, "Too long. This place sucks. I have to get out."

I then find myself doubting my decision. Was the old company really that bad, so bad that I had to leave? Did I make the right decision in coming here? How long before I become miserable and cynical like that guy? Why did I use a headhunter from the Internet instead of the one who got my cousin's girlfriend a 40% increase in salary at her new job?

But since I've switched jobs so often, I've learned to deal with this moment of insecurity as part of the indoctrination period. Somebody will always think the company is the best in the world. Somebody else will always refer to it as Alcatraz.

Another little trick I've learned is not to pigeonhole myself. I graduated law school in '92 with the express purpose of trying to use my law degree and bar status to open doors in the entertainment and media business. The plan worked, but with a great amount of mazel.

Through a maze of jobs including lawyer, archivist, and researcher, I now find myself as a TV news writer and producer. I like what I do, I like the people with whom I work, and I have at least one laugh during the day. Based on conversations with friends about general work situations, I'm running way above average. That's not to say that I wouldn't leave if the right opportunity presented itself.

After leaving several jobs, I now know that a new job will give me more than the euphoria of an increase in professional and financial opportunity and the feeling of liberation that comes with leaving a job that doesn't offer those things.

More importantly, I'm starting to look at prospective new employers with a more optimistic eye towards the new chances they will most likely give me:

A chance to make new friends.
A chance to make new business contacts.
A chance to learn new skills to make me more attractive to prospective new employers.
A chance to meet new challenges.
A chance to contribute my knowledge and skills to a project or team.
A chance to show my stuff and prove my worth, not only to my employer, but also to myself.
A chance to grow as a professional and as a person.
A chance for a fresh start.
A chance not to make the same mistakes I made at previous jobs.

Leaving a job is difficult, though. The hardest part is trying to leave on good terms with everybody. Of course, I want people to think of me as a mensch. But there will inevitably be some people with whom I hope to never have to deal with again. When I leave an office for the last time, I like to think I am leaving these people behind for good. Yet, I run into them professionally and personally time and time again. Therefore, at the very least, I try to leave these people on neutral terms.

There are few experiences as liberating as the limbo phase at work that begins the minute after I resign. I feel more worth as I debrief everyone on files and projects, bringing them up to speed and letting them know whom to call in case there's a problem. The more questions they ask, the more I realize how much I reacted automatically on the job because the information was in my head, rather than in a file. In some cases, I drafted an exit memo upon my supervisors' request to help them in the transition of looking for my replacement.

Meanwhile, coworkers tell me about my great luck and how they are jealous that they aren't leaving too. Some people even implore me to find out about other openings at my new company. And then I realize that I will be wiping the slate clean, just like I do during the High Holidays.

I switched to a competing company after months of trying to get a new job. Coincidentally, I had been booked to go on a UJC Summer Singles Mission to Eastern Europe just when I accepted the offer. I spoke with my father right before I left for the trip, and we talked about the job change. It hit me then that the job itself would not make me happy.

The salary would indeed be better, as would the job responsibilites. But if I wanted to make more money, I could always get a second job. And other employers could certainly offer similar or more challenging responsibilities.

What my happiness would really come down to is the quality of my life. The trip would be a nice break between jobs, and I purposely gave my new employer a start date that gave me about a week's window of time after returning from the trip.

Being surrounded by family and friends. That's what really counts. And as I told my father, when it comes to family and friends, I feel as though I've got the best in the business. I hope you feel the same way about yours.