At the time, I didn’t really understand why audiences were so impressed by my ability to give speeches. However, when I think about it now, it’s clear: it was 19 years ago, and I was 8 years old.

It was a nerve-wracking experience at first, and while the butterflies I got the first time I stepped up to a podium never really went away, I learned to harness and channel that energy into something useful over time. Fear of public speaking is not rare—in fact, it’s often thought of as one of the most common fears out there. Yet we live in a world in which presenting or performing in front of groups of people is virtually unavoidable, particularly so in a post-secondary setting.

As I grew up and stopped giving public speeches in my free time, I realized that not everyone had the same comfort level speaking in front of others that I did. When I got to university, I discovered that there was nothing quite so painfully uncomfortable as watching a peer absolutely bomb a class presentation. An uncomfortable speaker’s nervousness seems to radiate throughout the entire room, unfailingly infecting innocent audience members (not to mention evaluating professors). The awkwardness is palpable.

You don’t want to inflict that pain on others. More importantly, you don’t want to experience that pain yourself! So, I’ll share a couple of common mistakes to avoid and my number one tip for making your next presentation memorable (and maybe even pleasant).

Mistake: No preparation

Okay, we’ll start with the obvious one. If you get nervous about giving presentations, it’s not enough to just make a few slides and hope for the best once you get up in front of the room. Some people are capable of doing this, because they’re able to access important information stored in their memory through associations—they know the subject matter well overall, so talking about one thing progresses naturally to the next.

When you’re nervous, however, that ability to “wing it” is severely impaired, because so much of your mental energy is just focused on the immediate environment. You’ve likely heard about the “fight or flight” response: effectively, your entire nervous system goes into high gear when it senses you’re being threatened. Hence the quickened pulse, hair-trigger senses, and feeling like you could run a mile in a minute. You’re biologically less able to make associations requiring complex cognition, because your body is focusing on simply surviving.

The solution is to spend more time preparing and rehearsing so that the things you want to say become more and more automatic, and your memory requires fewer associations to arrive at them. Another helpful strategy is to employ mnemonic devices or distinctive visual cues to trigger those associations for you, so that you’re not relying on arriving at them yourself.

Mistake: Over-relying on presentation slides

Is there anything more boring than a presenter who simply reads the text off of their slides, without adding any new information or elaboration? There are two problems here: visual information overload, and incredibly flat presentations style. Have you heard of the “magic number 7, plus or minus 2”? It’s famously thought to represent the number of things we can hold in our working memory at a time. In today’s age of unprecedented access to information, it’s likely even less than that. So, if we can only really think about 3 or 4 things at a time, why present more information than that on a single slide?

As far as presentation style is concerned, a dynamic presenter will provide information that is complementary to any visuals they use. You want people to focus on you? Why would they if the only thing you’re giving them is information they can read for themselves? You have to bring something unique to the table.

Awesome tip: Tell a story

Our lives are collections of stories. We tell stories about others, about ourselves, about the world. It’s how we’ve transmitted knowledge as a species for thousands of years, to the point where we are evolutionarily hard-wired to use and understand narrative information. We grow up listening to and mimicking childhood stories, we write and act out stories in school, we read books, watch TV shows, and go to movies to be entertained by stories. It’s inarguable that stories are an integral and intuitive part of human life.

A great speech or presentation will have a clear sense of narrative structure. As opposed to a mere collection of facts or disjointed arguments, it will have a unifying, underlying story that ties everything together, giving it context, and making it more understandable and relatable.

It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it, even when you’re only 8 years old.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Surrey, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

As of yet, nobody is really sure what the government’s next steps will be. Stephen Harper has worked long and hard to establish his Conservative party as the keepers of the Canadian economy. After finally achieving his long-coveted majority in 2011, Harper certainly has some political wiggle room. The main opposition parties are still in shambles, both lacking a permanent leader, and struggling to establish their own narratives against the Conservatives’ legislative juggernaut. The population has been generally, if reticently, supportive of the Mr. Harper’s economic management and policies. Although there would likely be no better time in his mandate to tackle potentially unpopular issues, retirement and immigration are always two of the biggest potential minefields in Canadian politics.

Canadians of all ages and dispositions trend towards a liberal worldview when it comes to social services. New Canadians and young people who work hard expect to be treated the same way as those who retire before them. Those expectations, to end work at a reasonable age and be able to live comfortably, with access to reliable healthcare and other services, are prominent factors in keeping this block of voters happy and supportive. A government that jeopardizes those expectations risks a massive blowback. Indeed, historically, such tinkering has not gone over well. When Brian Mulroney proposed to de-index pensions in 1985, the backlash was severe. The government recovered enough to win re-election, but not without shelving its plans. Similarly, the Liberals of 1995 wanted to alter the pension system as part of their economic reforms but were shot down by Prime Minister Chrétien to prevent political risks.

Older Canadians have consistently supported Stephen Harper in large numbers. His party’s constant message of stability and consistency resonates with their demographic; and up until now, they have been rewarded. Similarly, the suggestion that there could be changes in who is allowed to immigrate to Canada will shake the increasingly powerful and voter-rich ridings, flush with increasingly affluent new Canadians, that the Conservatives successfully courted in their quest for a majority.

The bulk of his policies thus far have benefited older, new and upper-middle-class Canadians, and have been opposed principally by much younger demographics (the groups that tend to support the Liberals and New Democrats). That he is now considering tinkering with policies his bedrock voter base hold dear has been labeled by some as a potential turning point for the Conservatives—maybe even political suicide.

It is important to note, however, that there is truth to certain elements of what the government wants to address. By virtue of their needs, older individuals use a greater share of social services. As our population’s average age increases, programs like retirement benefits and healthcare will become increasingly stressed. As more people immigrate and become Canadians, the number of years they contribute to the work force before retiring and accessing benefits also becomes a factor. By encouraging people to work even a bit longer, the government stands to realize cost decreases in the billions.

Indeed, to prevent destabilization of certain segments of the Canadian economy, reforms of some sort will be needed, whether now or down the road. However, how the government chooses to go about these changes, whom they affect, and how sudden or severe they are will all impact how the population perceives them. For many, it hardly seems fair to work hard and prepare for retirement only to have the goal posts moved as they near the finish.

Until the Tories make their intentions clear, particularly through the budget due in March, guessing at Mr. Harper’s real plans is only speculation. Whatever happens, he must tread carefully: until now, despite opposition from certain segments, he has managed to maintain a tense but stable coalition of voters across the country to stay in power. This plan, borne of ideology rather than a desire for political gain, is fraught with risk. If he fumbles on this, his plan to make the Conservatives Canada’s new “natural governing party” may unravel before his eyes.

Philip Cutter

When I first entered university in 2003, my dad was fond of reminding me of what his academic experience was like back in the day. As I laboriously leafed through my school’s phone-book-sized calendar in search of course offerings (yes, it wasn’t that long ago that paper calendars were the norm), in order to plunk them into an online course registration system whose ease of use can best be described by the phrase “brain-punch,” there was no paternal sympathy to be found.

The story goes that my dad and students of his generation had to actually run around to various departments and classrooms on campus (no easy feat at a school equal in geographical area to a small town) in order to have the professors themselves register students for their classes. Due to limited class sizes and high demand for certain classes, students would frequently have to sprint from one location to another in order to get a spot in their desired classes.

When I imagine it, I can’t help but chuckle to myself. The whole procedure seems like something out of an old black-and-white movie, set to jovial piano music.

Of course, I also heard plenty of stories about how dad’s assignments were all painstakingly composed on a typewriter while I grudgingly word-processed my way through various introductory English essays. Being 18, I didn’t give my dad’s sentiments much more than a cursory thought —somehow other matters were more pressing.

It’s funny how things come full circle sometimes, though. A little while ago, Apple launched iTunes U. Being an interested observer of and participant in matters pertaining to post-secondary education, I decided to check out the app on my iPhone. Within a span of less than 5 minutes, I had downloaded access to a real astronomy course, complete with course materials, textbooks, assignments, and videos of every lecture for a class offered at Yale.

On my phone. Without paying a cent.

I’m not sure what my dad would have to say about that—I should probably ask him. Regardless, I still have a bit of my own shock to deal with. I don’t fundamentally believe there’s anything truly groundbreaking about iTunes U; after all, course content has been online for years now. What’s really impressed me about it is how accessible and neatly packaged it all is.

Obviously, new technologies have the ability to change the way universities go about their business—this is nothing new. However, developments like iTunes U (which is totally free) could be the start of a new way of thinking about higher education. Combined with Apple’s concurrent move to begin selling textbooks via iTunes (I apologize for coming off as a major Apple enthusiast, but I haven’t yet heard of other companies doing stuff like this), it’s clear that today, higher education is more accessible than it ever has been.

And, as a major proponent of the accessibility of higher education, I can’t help but see this as a great thing. So, while there aren’t any credentials to be gained from it, don’t be surprised if you start seeing people like me trying out astronomy assignments, reading lecture notes on Shakespeare, or even watching political science lectures on their phones during their commute.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Surrey, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

From kindergarten all the way up to Grade 9, I was required to take French. You’d think after 10 years of French classes that I would be fairly proficient in the language. Throw in the extra year I took in Grade 10 and you’d still be wrong.

Due to my apparent failure with the French language, I thought I was hopeless with any and all others. So I wasn’t too keen when I discovered that I needed at least one language credit to complete my degree. Fast-forward 5 months from September, and I’m actually doing okay in my attempts to learn German, so I thought I would examine what has made the difference.

1. The Desire: While a language course most likely would not have been my first choice as an elective, I at least had my pick of languages. After my French debacle, I decided it would probably be best to avoid the romantic languages for now. Ever since Grade 3 when my friend Eva attempted to teach me German (I can’t apologize enough to her even to this day), I have found the language quite interesting. German is not as pretty as most others, but it definitely has an appealing rhythm to it. I feel that since I am learning a language I’m legitimately interested in, it has been that much easier.
2. The Time: While I technically had French class every day for two semesters in high school, the amount of time we spent never seemed to be enough to solidify any of the concepts. While I only have 4 hours of German a week (two 2-hour classes), the longer periods allow me to learn a new concept and then put it into practice in class.
3. Practice: In a high school setting, classes generally aren’t set up very well for the actual application of a language. Most of the time we would do exercises from textbooks or handouts, which was just learning by repetition. We were never given another context in which to use the language. With the extra time in lecture, I now have the opportunity to try out new words and apply them to something other than the textbook.
4. Context: If you ever took a language course before post-secondary, you might have found the material (and sometimes the teacher) taking a very juvenile approach. The scenarios never seemed very age-appropriate, and therefore I never had any desire to attempt to use the language. Post-secondary language courses have a tendency to take their audience into account and (at least in the case of my German course) put forth scenarios that we might one day find ourselves in—for example, traveling.
5. Culture: While it did come up every once in a while, the culture of France was never truly demonstrated to me in my 11 years of attempting to learn the language. This time around I have learned a great deal about Germany through film, music and the experiences of my TA (who just happens to come from Berlin). Placing the language within actual German culture has made it much more enjoyable.

While not every language course will reflect the one I am currently taking, I am glad that I still have a chance (however small it may be) to become bilingual. If I ever master German, I might possibly return to my efforts in French… though probably not.

Anyway, I have to return to Facebook. Turing 20 has become a real chore and I’m beginning to understand why some people put off responding to e-mails. It’s extremely tedious and they just keep piling up.

Fraser Tripp

SOPA (Stop Online Piracy Act) and PIPA (Protect IP Act) are bills designed to curb what many industries see as an increasingly prevalent culture of theft and piracy on the Internet, particularly media sharing that violates copyright and intellectual privacy rights. The bills, at the outset, seem to be fair in intent: those who create content should receive credit and payment for their work, and should be able to control its use and distribution. The problem, however, is not necessarily the intent—to stop infringement of intellectual property rights—but rather the bills’ arbitrary heavy-handedness.

The bills give the American government broad powers to shut down websites and online businesses for even suspected acts of piracy or complicity in violating copyright laws. Opponents charge that the bills threaten innovation and free speech, and people’s right to access information in a free and fair way. Given the deeply democratic nature of the Internet as a global domain that is, ostensibly, outside any single nation or government’s control, there has been an understandable uprising. The notion of the American government being able to essentially shut down entire web domains over a single link or blog post alarmed and outraged many digital heavyweights.

Those that support the laws decried the blackout as a publicity stunt, while those against them pointed to the ensuing outcry as an example of the strength that exists within the new digital culture. The international response was considerable, given the popularity of the affected sites, and drew mainstream media attention to the cause.

The scope of the proposed laws threatens to undermine the integral social aspect of the Internet as not only a point of information exchange, but a point of human connection. Particularly among young people, social interaction and the traditional methods teenagers use to communicate have shifted into the digital realm; imposing restrictions on these elements would certainly be unpopular and could be dangerous. American social researcher Danah Boyd’s work on how young people interact in the digital universe has been turning heads for pointing out the role the web plays in providing resources and assistance for young people in need. Clamping down on a website for unconfirmed copyright infringement may have wider consequences if that site also serves as a much-needed safe space for a person or people at risk.

From the sharing of media and information to uses in commerce and education, the Web is unprecedented in human history in terms of a structural network for connecting people. Innovation—the ability to work around problems and find solutions—is probably the greatest defining feature of what the Internet has evolved into since its inception several decades ago. It is because of this feature, this ability to integrate different people’s expertise to generate amazing results, that trying to limit or restrict the Internet’s flow will always be unsuccessful. From SOPA and PIPA to the Chinese government’s strong censorship of information internally, efforts that at first seem successful continually face the buffeting force of a global storm, as people around the world come together to push until the entire control system topples over.

The democratization of knowledge has always been a powerful force; the digital age has only led to an increase in the speed and size of this body of open information. While we must ensure that people’s rights and works are treated properly and the credit for those works given when due, we cannot allow a trampling of other fundamental freedoms in response. The free and uninhibited flow of information is the key to any open, democratic society and that must encompass the vast resources contained in the Internet. These proposed laws are, frankly, woefully inadequate in fulfilling that goal; perhaps the authors should have gone online and done a little more research before proposing them.

Philip Cutter

That’s a lot of young Canadians without jobs—roughly 14%, or double the national average for all ages. Of course, it’s easy to look at statistics like this and think to ourselves, “wow, that sucks,” before going on with the rest of our day, not really giving it another thought. In a way, we have to do this, lest we become so overwhelmed by the injustices of the world that we’re no longer able to function. But, like most injustices, there are very real and very harmful consequences of such apathy when it comes to the problem of youth unemployment.

The youth unemployment crisis is about more than a bunch of kids without spending money. In the ecology of the Canadian labour market, youth are but one piece of a highly interconnected system, and when problems affecting youth employment become more and more significant, there is a predictable effect on the other parts of the system.

To speak plainly, this is a multigenerational—no, an omnigenerational issue (yes, it’s a big enough deal that I will use a word that may not actually exist to describe it). In other words, it’s everybody’s problem. The aging baby boomer population is about to exit the workforce (at least this is what they hope) in such mass numbers that a major chunk of all new jobs created in the next 10 years is going to due solely to retirements.

That’s a good thing, right? There will be plenty of positions open for younger generations to fill. So, Gen X and to some extent Gen Y will begin to fill these holes. This works great—up to the point where there are more skilled workers retiring than there are suitable replacements. Suddenly, you’ve got positions at senior levels still needing to be filled, in addition to shortages at lower levels due to the portion of the skilled workforce who were promoted to fill those senior roles.

So where do we turn for new skilled labour to fill these holes? Obviously, youth is the answer. The only problem is that a significant chunk of those youth will be unable to take on those positions, because they will have been unemployed so long that they have effectively disengaged from the labour market. In the end, what we’ll be looking at is a massive labour market shortage, and I don’t need to elaborate on how that will be a problem.

The solution lies with engaging these unemployed (and underemployed) youth now, before they become disengaged. It’s everyone’s responsibility to find ways to change this disturbing trend, before it’s too late. But how?

Enter efforts such as the XYBOOM conference this Friday in Vancouver. A non-traditional conference stressing action, participation, dialogue and creativity, XYBOOM will see professional representatives of all three generations working directly with youth to discuss ideas and begin to plant the seeds of change.

It’s an encouraging effort, one that deserves to be lauded and repeated in other areas of the country. As a facilitator of one of the off-site live streaming locations of the conference, I’ll be very excited to see what comes out of it. I think you should, too.

Visit xyboom.ca for more information.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Surrey, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

Next Monday I will have lived 20 years of my life. That’s about a quarter of my life, if you go by the average life expectancy of a male in Canada. Every time it comes up, that I will be turning 20, I have exactly the same reaction:

“That’s just weird.”

This realization has had me reflecting on what I’ve done with the first 20 years of my life. Of course, this being part of the earlier (fingers crossed) part of my life, the highlights aren’t that unique.

I spent quite a few years honing my musical abilities, graduated from (the best high school in Canada. Don’t fight me on this. We had students who talked to the walls…to the walls) Canterbury High School and attended Humber College briefly to continue my musical studies in one of the top performance programs in North America.

While on paper this doesn’t seem to amount to much, these events shaped who I currently am. Studying music introduced me to a lot of opportunities, the most prominent being Canterbury’s arts program. It was there that I gained my love for the urban life and cultural experiences and my hatred of bad transit systems and the Ottawa Senators. Why do you need to be at the arena three hours before the game even begins, people?! I just wanted to get home in an hour! Was that too much to ask?

Anyway, my admission to Humber meant my move to Toronto, perhaps my favourite experience of the past 20 years. While it didn’t stick, due to educational reasons, returning to Toronto is currently one of the things that drives me to do well.

Now in my “first” year of post-secondary education, in Carleton University’s journalism program, I am honing different skills while creating new opportunities for myself. Nothing groundbreaking, but it’ll do for now.

So, now that I have lived nearly a fifth of my life (I’ve decided to be optimistic), I thought I would come up with a tentative bucket list.

First things first: complete a degree. It doesn’t have to be in my current program; I just want one of those expensive pieces of paper.

Second: become successful in at least one form of online media. This could be anything from my own personal blog to reviving my YouTube account.

Third: live in Toronto again. This also goes together with my other goals of living in New York for a period as well as pretty much anywhere in Europe.

Fourth: write a novel. I haven’t done much in terms of writing fiction or anything longer than 10 pages, but I feel like I always have ideas running around in my head; I just never write them down.

Of course, this is not an exhaustive list. In fact, whenever I start a list it just tends to grow on its own. Probably not the best practice when it comes to a list of things I want to do before my time on this planet is through, but it can’t be helped. There is always something new to do.

My biggest regret about turning 20, however, is the fact that I will never again be a teenager. It’s almost like it was an excuse to get away with pretty much anything and pretty soon I’ll be forced into responsibility. Oh well, I’ve heard that for most people the 20-somethings were the best time of their life.

Wish me luck and hopefully I’ll live another 20 years. That would be nice.

To find out if I have a quarter-life crisis or go through another Age 20 Transition follow me here!

To hear about any new blogs as they go up, follow Career Options as well and check them out on Facebook!

Fraser Tripp

For a while, I had a bit of a blogging iron-man streak going. From September 2010 up until last month, I was writing an article a week for my blog at work, which became two articles a week once the folks here asked me to come on board. I was in the blogging zone; inspiration came quickly and spontaneously, and the fact that I very often had no idea what I would be writing about until I sat down to write wasn’t a problem in the slightest. If anything, the last-minute nature of this kind of writing allowed me to write prolifically with a minimum time investment.

And so it was, for quite a while.

Last month, though, something changed. For the first time since I started writing regularly, I genuinely struggled to find inspiration. I felt that the quality of my writing began to suffer, and—perhaps most alarming of all—this thing that I had once found enjoyable started to feel a little bit like a chore, and somewhat stressful. My blog posts at work, usually posted on Fridays, began to appear on Saturdays, Sundays and Mondays as I was unable to complete my writing within the time I usually allot myself on Friday mornings. I even missed a couple of weeks writing here (and for that, anonymous faithful readers, I do apologize).

As with many things in life, the reflection required to figure this kind of stuff out often happens after the fact. It was as though I was in some kind of fog, and was devoting whatever faculties I had to simply navigating through it as best I could, without stopping to think about how I got into the fog in the first place. Predictably, I stumbled around for some time until I found a place to stop, rest and think for a while (aka the holiday break).

After giving some thought to the issue, I have come to a few conclusions. The first is that I was probably a bit over-taxed by the time December rolled around—not just in terms of writing commitments, but from life in general. We all experience phases where things seem out of balance (read: midterm season), but I think I failed to recognize this was happening to me at the time. In hindsight, a few strategically placed vacation days down the stretch of last semester may have made a nice difference, not to mention investing more time and effort in my physical health.

My other thought is this: I was over-thinking things. Instead of focusing on writing, I was concentrating on producing content. That may seem like the same thing, but to me the former is very much a process, while the latter is all about an end result. This realization was somewhat of an epiphany, as I’ve long preached the wonders of paying attention to the process. You know those sayings about enjoying the journey, not the destination? This is what they’re referring to.

So there it is. I enjoy the act of writing, which is of course the reason why I started doing more of it in the first place. Ironically, the more I did, the further I drifted from engaging in a creative process, to hammering out a bunch of words on a page just to get it done. Sound familiar? If you’ve written more than a few university level papers, it should.

Papers are not fun. I don’t want to write papers. I just want to write! So, write I will. And come hell or high water, I’ll have fun doing it.

Best of luck to everyone in the new semester!

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Surrey, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

It was an odd feeling actually returning for the second semester of lectures. Instead of 3 or 4 months of nothing but sleep and P90X like last year, I’ve been flung back into a solid routine and, as much as I’d like to say I hate it, so far it’s agreed with me.

My holidays were stressful, hardly the relaxing time they should have been. My freedom only began on December 21, after my Canadian History exam. The last exam time slot for my least favourite class—typical.

When I wasn’t studying (which, let’s face it, was more often that I should have been), I was at work. Apparently I wasn’t the only stressed-out person this holiday season, but at least my reason wasn’t last-minute shopping. A side note for those of you who have never worked retail during the holiday season: it is not my fault that you waited until two days before Christmas to buy an extremely popular item and, therefore, you should not be allowed to yell at me, the minimum wage employee.

Throw in my first-ever Boxing Day (both working and actually being near a retail area) and being at home more often than is healthy for my social life, and school became a much-needed break from the holidays.

These past few weeks reminded me a great deal of my time out of school last winter. I had absolutely no structure, little to no contact with my friends (all of whom were in class or otherwise busy), and even when I had a job, the only difference it made was that I had a little more spending money than usual. While total freedom sounds alright, it actually begins to drag. While a cure for this may have been a little bit more cowbell in my life, I found a renewed energy in returning to school.

Maybe I’m destined to become the professional student of my family. There’s one in each family on my Dad’s side. The idea of constantly learning new things sounds extremely appealing. Sure, the idea of endless papers and exams isn’t that glamorous, but I can pretty much guarantee that everyone can think of at least one course they wish they could take because it “looks interesting.” Don’t lie to me. I know you secretly love to learn.

So, as you return to your lectures this week, don’t go in with the attitude that school is a waste of time. Think about what you might be doing instead (*cough* Skyrim *cough*) and consider how you are instead benefitting from the thousands of dollars you (or your parents) pay each year so you can better understand how the world around you works. When you really consider everything you’ve been learning, then you might not mind so much about having to get up for that 8:30 lecture. Well, everything except for math (math has never been my friend).

Fraser Tripp

The government will almost certainly continue on its hard-line path, but what the next steps will be is more difficult to predict. Stephen Harper is nothing if polarizing as a Prime Minister; hate his policies or love them, Mr. Harper is bent on fulfilling his promises. Dismantling the federal long-gun registry, pushing through with controversial crime legislation, and trying to tackle the country’s deficit: these are fire under the feet of the opposition and arguably nothing more than appeals to the Conservatives’ solid voter base. That being said, the government has suffered slightly for its perceived rough touch: several polls show them slipping from their peak support around the May election. The measures have, unsurprisingly, garnered wide support in Western Canada, but have received a rather muted response from Ontario—the province where most governments are made or broken. Quebec has essentially been a slow-motion train wreck for the Conservatives, and their recent policies haven’t helped.

As for the opposition, it’s a bit more difficult to envision what 2012 will bring. The Liberals and the NDP have been trading places in popular support over the past few months, dipping up and down, but maintaining essentially equal levels of support. Much of this is attributable to an NDP drop in Quebec—where Bloc support has begun to rebound after a disastrous year—and a Liberal rise in Ontario. Some polls even have the Liberals neck-and-neck with the governing Conservatives in Canada’s most populous province, but whether that holds in the long term remains to be seen. Much of Stephen Harper’s success in Ontario is the result of vote splitting: when the NDP does well, the Liberals suffer, and the Conservatives ride up the middle. If either opposition party massively falters to the benefit of the other, it could spell trouble for Mr. Harper and his swath of new Ontario MPs.

Provincial politics are likely to be much more interesting than federal politics next year. All the elections of 2012 restored their respective governments—Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Ontario, Newfoundland and PEI all re-elected incumbent governments. Indeed, this trend toward stability was likely one of the largest factors in Mr. Harper’s winning his coveted majority. In 2012 we will see elections in Alberta—Alison Redford’s PCs will likely continue their four-decade domination of the province—and possibly BC and Quebec as well. It is these latter provinces that bode to be highly interesting races, if elections indeed occur. BC’s governing Liberals are languishing in the face of an invigorated NDP. Quebec is in complete disarray; for the first time since the 1970s, people are dealing with a political option besides the old “sovereigntist-federalist” choices. There is a good chance that a Quebec election could wipe out the governing Liberals, and send the Parti Quebecois into the political wilderness to join its federal cousin, the Bloc.

And, finally, there is the perennial unknown of what influences the outside world will bring to the table this year. International activity, both political and economic, can and will have effects on Canada. What those effects will be in 2012, however, is virtually impossible to predict. The state of the economy is the federal government’s bedrock; years of Conservatives portraying themselves as sensible economic managers have paid off handsomely. But if the international economic decline seeps into Canada and undermines confidence, the government could find themselves in trouble from a problem that is out of their hands. At the same time, political strife abroad could work to Mr. Harper’s advantage and allow him to hammer home the message that a Conservative majority may not be everyone’s preferred choice, but it’s far better than the fractured instability of many other national governments.

It is often said the only true constant is change, but for the time being, Canada seems to be bucking the trend and favouring the status quo instead of the unknown. Even the stability is dynamic, however, and what transpires over the next 12 months is anyone’s guess. As we’ve seen outside Canada, the foundations we’ve trusted for so long could be pulled out from under us incredibly quickly.

Philip Cutter

Even now, a few years later, I still get lost from time to time trying to grasp the full possibilities of the medium. I’m by no means a “power user,” with just under 200 followers on my personal account (an unknown percentage of which are spam accounts), but I’ve now spent what I would call a good amount of quality time using Twitter, both for personal use and for work. During that time I’ve had a realization every now and then that reminds me of what this mysterious communication tool is capable of.

One of my first “aha” moments using Twitter happened pretty quickly after I decided to start putting some effort into it. I had started to follow some big name theorists in the field of career development, as well as some influential writers about the subject. Around the same time, I was doing some writing on this blog, and for the print version of Career Options magazine, on the Chaos Theory of Careers (CTC). After mentioning the article I wrote on Twitter, Jim Bright— arguably the man most responsible for developing and promoting the CTC—tweeted about my article. And it wasn’t even to say that I had gotten it all wrong!

So, one of my first Twitter-piphanies (that’s Twitter + epiphany… help me!) involved interactions with people that I would have had no chance to connect with otherwise.

As cool as that experience was, I’ve more recently had another kind of Twitter experience that I didn’t foresee back when I started: meeting Twitter users in person! This has happened to me twice in the last week or so, both times at work, and both times completely unexpectedly.

It sounds weird, but in meeting these people, there was a certain instant bond. The person who was once just a small square image and a bunch of lines of text before, is now standing and talking to you at an office Christmas party! How… human!

I thought for a while about why it was so refreshing to meet these people in real life, and I’m fairly sure it has to do with genuineness. These days it’s so easy to be inauthentic in an online medium, where the guise of anonymity is so present. Even in a situation where you know someone’s name and profile picture are the real thing, the sense of being removed from them remains in online interactions. While it’s easy to say that this is because we are removed from them in so many ways, the fact is that online communication such as that found on Twitter is only growing more prominent—and so we need to find ways to bridge the gap.

Now that I’ve met those aforementioned people, it’s as if something has been confirmed: they are real. There is actually a living, breathing human behind the screen that has been interacting with me this entire time. And that means something far more meaningful than a few re-tweets or mentions can ever describe.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

The current government has made no secret of its skeptical stance on climate change. The booming of Alberta’s oil sands and the government’s near-obsessive focus on the state of the economy have earned the Conservatives support across the country and, arguably, a majority government. There is a significant portion of Canadian society that refutes the scientific consensus regarding climate change—and the fact that these people largely make up the Conservative voter base is no coincidence.

There is little debate among the scientific community on the validity of anthropogenic climate change. Questions remain about the overall causes, but the vast majority of scientific minds agree: the planet’s climate is warming, human industrial activity is the cause, and all nations must work together to drastically reduce carbon emissions if we are to avoid disaster. Much like the so-called controversy over evolution in American public education, the matter is firmly settled within academic circles. Like evolution, the “debate” of whether climate change is real exists only in the world of politics.

If politicians like Stephen Harper want to do nothing to mitigate the effects of climate change, so be it; some minds just can’t be changed. It is foolish, however, to allow them to stand in front of a microphone, unchallenged, and openly deny that humanity is changing our planet’s atmosphere and biosphere. People like the Prime Minister deny climate change not because they believe it isn’t happening, but because they prioritize their own short-term financial gain over the long-term health of this planet and its population. Given how brutally unpopular this choice would be politically if it were to be stated openly and publicly, it is easy to see why they twist facts and spin words to convince voters that all is well, nothing is wrong, and they should continue pumping litres and litres of gas into their SUVs.

The eventual effects of climate change are not yet fully known, but they will certainly reach far and wide. Here in Canada, we’ll likely be spared the brunt of the problems and instead have to deal with mild inconveniences; extreme heat waves and droughts, failed crops and poor air quality are just things we’ll learn to live with. Of course, for the people of Tuvalu, the Maldives and other island nations, the catastrophes are already beginning. The sea will slowly swallow up their countries; their histories and way of life will be destroyed while more prosperous, industrialized nationss continue to churn out greenhouse gases and destroy forests for the oil in the sand below them. Millions of people on low plains and river deltas in Bangladesh and coastal India will lose everything to floods and monsoons, but that’s not really Canada’s problem, is it?

The blame game—the idea that when multiple people contribute to a problem, nobody has to shoulder any responsibility—is ultimately at the heart of the climate crisis. For Canada, the fact that we are responsible for “only” 2% of global emissions allows our government to proclaim it the responsibility of bigger emitters like China and the United States to fix the problem. In other words, our contribution to the problem is so small that it doesn’t matter whether we contribute to the solution. As Jeffrey Simpson pointed out in the Globe and Mail this week, this idea becomes ridiculous when expanded upon: did Canada refuse to fight in World War II because it was mostly a European problem? Have we refused aid to impoverished countries because we have comparatively less money than, say, the much larger United States?

Of course not. We don’t fight HIV, poverty and human rights abuses around the world because they’re our problems alone. We stand up to such things because it is the right thing to do, the good thing to do. We help those in need; we mobilize to protect the values we cherish, because we are compassionate, just, and guided by morality. Why then are we so willing to sit back and allow oil companies to slowly poison the planet around us? Where is our morality now, our Canadian way of interceding to help those in need, be it for polar bears or our fellow human beings?

The Kyoto Accord has its flaws; there is no denying it. But the goal it embodies, the spirit of international cooperation to solve a problem that affects every single human being in every country, is what makes it so vitally important. Those goals are why Kyoto needs to be fixed, not thrown away in a false hope that something better will replace it—it won’t.

From Copenhagen in 2009, Mexico in 2010, to Durban in 2011, we have committed to nothing but some vague, non-binding agreements to “do something”… later. For so many people, in so many countries, later will be too late. It is terrible, then, that Canada of all countries would be the first to throw Kyoto aside, to assign those most vulnerable to climate change to near-certain ruin, under the guise of it being unworkable. The reality though is that we don’t want to pay for it; we have abandoned people for profit and our international reputation has been left in tatters because of it. Unless apathy and greed are now Canadian values, we have nothing to be proud of right now.

Philip Cutter

Possibly. The basics of a good interview are not complicated. Research the organization and the position in question; practise answering questions about how you and the job are a good fit; give plenty of examples; put some effort into your appearance and the first impression you make; be yourself – the list goes on.

When it comes to job interviews, most people will tell you that it’s best to prepare as much as possible, then prepare some more. On the surface, this sounds like good advice. Dig a little deeper though, and you’ll find that as bad as it is to under-prepare for an interview, it’s just as detrimental to over-prepare.

But wait a second, can this really be a bad thing? Isn’t it best to know everything inside-out, to feel supremely confident in yourself, to have your answers memorized such that it’s no effort at all to spit them out come crunch time?

The short answer, as you may have guessed, is a resounding ‘No!’

First of all, discard any notions you have of the “perfect” job interview, now and forever. The idea that you can be fully prepared for any interview is a myth – it’s something people will tell you to ease your insecurities, give you false hope, and make themselves feel like they’re helping you out. What they’re really doing is giving you a one-dimensional view of a process that is decidedly three-dimensional.

Here’s the thing. You’re probably taking this job application very seriously (as well you should), and despite the elation you feel about being invited for an interview, you start to feel more and more nervous as the date of the interview draws nearer. “It’s the perfect job!” you say. “The more I prepare, the less nervous I’ll feel, right?”

Maybe. But let’s take a closer look at what’s going on in your mind as you continue to prepare for your interview. At first, your efforts calm you down, giving you more confidence. You feel like you’re doing something, which is better than doing nothing. You’ve got some ideas for answers prepared, you’ve thought of some good examples to illustrate your key strengths, you’ve come up with some questions to ask the interviewers – things are going well.

Before long, though, you start to worry: What if I forget this answer, or this piece of research I found out about the company? What if, in the heat of the moment, I suddenly blank out and totally forget what I was going to say? With this fresh helping of stress on your shoulders, you redouble your preparation efforts, convinced that the only way to ensure this interview goes the way you want it to is to memorize as many of your responses as possible. Your thinking narrows as you attempt to mentally control more and more variables, and the more you convince yourself that you can control things, the more you realize you can’t.

And suddenly, the interview day is upon you. You might now find yourself in any of the following predicaments:

1. You’re too rigidly sticking to the plan.

Good interviewers are notorious for asking questions that are not possible to prepare for. All that effort you put into devising answers won’t help you when it comes to questions you weren’t expecting. You might start repeating answers, or you might have a “blank out” experience and be left with no choice but to awkwardly “wing it.” Worst of all, you might give a response that doesn’t answer the question that was asked.

2. You sound more like a robot than a person.

Trust me, scripted or memorized answers make you look and sound bad. If it’s clear to the interviewers that this is something you’ve said thirty or forty times to yourself in front of the mirror, you’re flirting with losing something that’s very hard to get back: your authenticity. The best interviews feel more like conversations than interrogations, and your ability to be present and conversant will be hampered if you’re busy thinking about what your next response is going to be.

3. You’re more nervous than you would be otherwise.
This might sound weird, but the more effort you put into something, the more nervous you’re likely to feel about it. Once you cross the line of investing too much time and energy into preparing for an interview, the stakes are raised and they’re not coming back down. We all have a cracking point, so it’s important not to put too much pressure on yourself. If you can retain a healthy perspective about the fact that this is one job interview for one job, of which there are likely to be many more, you will lower the pressure on yourself to perform perfectly.

In a way, interviewing someone who’s over-prepared can be just as disappointing as someone who’s under-prepared, because you can see how much they really care and how much work they’ve put into their interview, yet they still didn’t impress you. There’s a sense of lost potential.

So, when you’re getting ready for your next interview, do prepare enough so that you’re well-educated about the position and ready to discuss how you’ll be of value, but leave yourself plenty of room for things that come up in the moment. Be flexible, be adaptable, and most importantly, be human (which means that, no, you’re not perfect).

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on Twitter: @lindenforest

Much has changed in the world since 1948—63 years is a long time. We’ve seen some societies become more open and tolerant, more just and more embracing of diversity, while others have regressed and become more unequal. Across the world, nations have changed as people have continued to demand their basic rights. Consider the United States, long held up as a beacon of liberty and justice: in 63 years, the nation has gone from institutionalized racism under Jim Crow laws to millions of Americans, of all backgrounds, electing an African-American as their President. The Civil Rights struggles of the 1960s, which made these changes possible, were of a piece with the greater human rights movement.

For Americans, it seems archaic and shameful now that so many people were denied access to basic rights like voting and education simply based on their skin colour. The country has learned from the past, and now looks toward the future. Just this past week, Secretary of State Hilary Clinton spoke out about the rights of LGBT people and the very real human rights issues they face both at home and abroad. Recognizing human rights is an ever-evolving aspect of democracy; as more people are granted the rights they are due, democracy becomes richer.

Beyond America’s borders, working toward human rights for various oppressed groups has allowed nations and their people to flourish and realize their potential. Some of the biggest achievements have been in women’s rights. Around the world, women have slowly gained more access to education, reproductive health resources and political power. The inherent equality between men and women is consistently ranked among the most basic and most powerful fundamental human right in any society. When women, particularly young women, are enabled and encouraged to build productive, secure and independent lives, their societies are transformed. We’ve seen it time and time again. There is still a vast amount of work that needs to be done in this area—especially in developing and underdeveloped areas like India and sub-Saharan Africa—but improvements are being made every year. In fact, this year’s Nobel Peace Prize was shared between three women who have worked to promote human rights for women in their native countries.

Even here in Canada, one of the most free, equal and just nations the world has ever known, there are still areas for improvement. Over the past decade we’ve seen great strides made to improve life for gay and lesbian people, transgender persons, Aboriginal Canadians and women. Bill C-279, a bill that would amend the Criminal Code of Canada to recognize hate crimes in regards to transgender people and gender identity, was nearly signed into law before the May election that nullified all pending legislation. The law is simple and will affect relatively few Canadians; the implications for those it would affect, however, are massive. The right to live without fear of discrimination is a very basic right that many people take for granted, and one that Canada needs to engrain even more deeply into the national psyche. This bill was recently reintroduced jointly by Liberal and NDP MPs and, with luck, will eventually become law.

We Canadians are lucky to be citizens of a highly developed nation that emphasizes freedom and equality, and we must use our rights to help those who still lack them. One way is to exert political and economic pressure on nations with deplorable human rights records. From political repression and censorship in China, to a lack of sexual and reproductive health options in places like Africa and India, there are huge areas for improvement. Our governments need to use diplomatic and financial options—withholding aid funding, leveraging trade or freezing assets—to ensure that countries treat their populations with universally recognized human rights standards. To make sure this is happening, we as citizens must be engaged and willing to confront our elected officials on global human rights issues, criticize the areas where they fall behind, and demand basic fairness for people whose countries we deal with internationally.

As we reflect on 63 years of accomplishments in working toward human rights for all, our pride must not deter us from the great amount of work still to be done, nor the millions who still lack fundamental rights. Happy Human Rights Day to all.

Philip Cutter

For the past decade, if not longer, there have been consistent complaints of decline in Canada’s leadership. Democracy and democratic institutions have eroded, and the electorate has become increasingly cynical of, and alienated from, its government.

But times are changing. Today, the major parties are entering periods of renewal and revival, casting off the heavy weights of the past and focusing on more realistic goals and forward-looking ideas.

After many years of minority governments and scandal, Ottawa finally has a majority government that, for all its faults, is giving everyone a little breathing room. Without the constant specter of a looming election, parties can focus more on internal matters—from simpler issues such as fundraising, to more complex concerns such as, in some cases, the very foundation of their existence.

For the NDP, this period presents a time to reflect on the party’s direction. By far the biggest, most immediate challenge is to replace their late leader Jack Layton. On March 24, 2012, more than 100,000 registered party members will vote on a new leader. There is no shortage of choice. The eight candidates include two high profile female MPs, a well-known Cree leader from Quebec and a multitude of other talented party members. All are intelligent, well-spoken individuals and, with the exception of Nova Scotia’s Robert Chisolm, are relatively competent in both official languages—a key selling point, considering the important role Quebec played in helping the New Democrats rise to become the Official Opposition this year.

The leadership race is providing the NDP with the opportunity to examine policies and—they hope—to convince Canadians that they are the right party to replace Stephen Harper’s Conservatives in the next federal election. They are working hard to position themselves as a credible, competent body, with a focus on modernizing Canada and increasing quality of life and economic opportunity for everyone. Given that the economy is the topic on everyone’s lips these days, it was chosen as the focus of the first NDP leadership debate building up to the party’s 2012 vote. There will be five more debates before voters cast their ballots, and hopefully we will hear many more positive and inclusive ideas from candidates as to the direction the party will take if it wins the next federal election.

Further down the opposition aisle, the still-wounded Liberal party is beginning a political renewal of its own. The third party in the House has gotten a lot of news coverage for its attempts to restore the image and status of a party that so many Canadians once trusted, and their initial steps seem to be working. Several polls show the Liberals climbing higher in public opinion—particularly in voter-rich Ontario, where some polls now show them in a tie with the Conservatives. Interim Liberal leader Bob Rae is leading the charge by focusing on the missteps of the Conservatives and positioning the Liberals as a sensible alternative to Stephen Harper’s heavy-handed team. Their approach, which is to foster debate and open dialogue between the party and the Canadians it courts, is very forward-thinking.

The opposing parties are not alone in their efforts to effect change. Even the governing Conservatives are showing signs of moving forward and delivering on promise. Although many of Stephen Harper’s recent moves have proved controversial, they have not been surprising. Long-standing pledges, such as dismantling the long-gun registry and enacting new crime legislation, are moving rapidly through the House.

Interestingly, these bellicose moves are indeed helping fuel debate on the state of democracy in Canada. The criticism of the bills—and the use of the parliamentary tools, such as closure, used to pass them with little debate—are feeding into the opposition party’s dialogue about restoring and renewing the Canadian institutions that they feel have degraded under the Conservatives since 2006. The government’s majority status means that these bills will pass regardless of opposition and, in several cases, despite public discomfort. At the same time, they are providing opportunities for discussion about how much power a government, even when given a majority, should have and who or what should keep that power in check.

Although we are several years away from an election, and a lot can—and will—happen in the interim, it is refreshing to see parties cool the perennially revved up election machines and shift their focus instead to policy and the direction the country is going. For the time being, Stephen Harper can rest comfortably knowing that his party and its popularity are secure amongst Canadians. However, if the growing chatter of renewal and increased engagement from the other parties continues, the Prime Minister may find himself increasingly unable to convince Canadians that he and his party are the best choice for their future.

Perhaps another party, and a new Canadian government, is sowing the seeds of its rise before our very eyes.

Philip Cutter

Today, I’d like to share with you a simple diagram that, I believe, communicates many of the concepts that I cover with students (particularly job interviews) more concisely and effectively than I ever could in words.

Isn’t it great? I’ve printed out a large copy to hang on my office wall, and I expect I’ll be referring to it often. I find myself drawing out this diagram nearly every day during explanations of job search concepts to students. The only surprising thing is that it took me a year and a half to make a poster out of it.

Why a Venn diagram? It’s simple: job seekers too often focus their efforts disproportionately on either one circle or the other. In an interview question about strengths, they might give a laundry list of traits that all make them sound great, without linking any of those traits specifically to the job at hand. In their cover letter, they may write at length about how much they admire a company’s mission and values, without bothering to mention that they live by those same values in their own lives.

Here’s the thing: employers don’t want the person with the most experience. They don’t want the person with the best skills. They don’t want the most likeable person, or the hardest working. What employers want is the person who best fits their particular needs at that moment in time.

You might have lots of great experience, but unless you illustrate how that experience is going to be of specific value to the company, it’s not so great at all. You might have a good personality, but unless your personal qualities mesh with the culture of the organization and nature of the position, it doesn’t matter.

Essentially, the qualities that make you a great candidate are fluid—they can and should adapt to the company and job that you are applying to. If you want to go above and beyond in an application, stop thinking about yourself and the job as separate. Instead, look for areas of overlap where you “match” the job, and stress them over and over again in as many different aspects of your application as you can.

After all, the person who has the biggest overlap is most likely going to get the job.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

There are the usual ones: pride, relief, a sense of accomplishment, bits of nostalgia as you look back. Yet the end of an education is leaving many young people today with feeling empty and unfulfilled as well. Strange that emptiness would be the result of such an accomplishment, but if you find yourself a recent graduate unable to find a job—a situation now frighteningly common—empty is exactly how you feel. Maybe even a bit bitter, or jaded, or regretful that you didn’t work hard enough, didn’t search out more opportunities and make more connections with people that could help you network into a position.

There is a very real, very palpable sense of betrayal in the air recently. Pundits are openly discussing the possibility of a “lost generation.” We see it in the Occupy rallies, in newspapers, and on blogs; the dream, the promise that an education would unlock a world of employment possibilities, upward mobility and wealth, is nowhere to be found. Turn on the news for a few minutes (any major network will do) and you are guaranteed to see a story or report on the dire state of the economy, the fragility and fear, the soaring unemployment. Demonstrations and rallies, countries on the brink of bankruptcy, groups of young people the world over, all with the same basic message: we are young, we are educated and we are willing to work; why can’t we? Where are the good, decent-paying jobs we were told would be waiting?

These people, these young adults, aren’t lazy. Quite the contrary: many have worked hard and brought themselves up from modest beginnings to finance an education, only to find that the jobs are simply no longer there. The assurance of employment and stability, a modest living and the ability to build oneself up financially have dissipated into the red-lined balance sheets of the world. Some turn to angry blame: the government, the system, big banks with overpaid CEOs are at fault for the worst economic downturn in several generations. Some simply continue to search work and grasp at answers, a reason for their sudden sense of failure.

Not everyone can be a demonstrator; activism doesn’t appeal to all. The most problematic elements of unemployment are the demoralization and futility it brings. It’s easy to yell and occupy parks, but that doesn’t pay the bills. Student loans and lines of credit with towering interest rates have a way of consuming your attention. Resumes and applications fly out of your hands and you begin scouring online job boards for fast work—any work. Your friends want you to come out with them, to celebrate your new status as a graduate, but you can’t afford it, both in money and time. You need to keep searching. As much as you want to, you can’t give up.

Your education, the degree or diploma you long to hang on your wall, stays hidden and tucked away. Though you desperately want to, it’s hard to feel proud when you wonder if it was all in vain. You have your piece of paper, but it doesn’t seem to be worth much to anyone. When you’re shuffling around the house in pajamas, getting ready to settle in for another marathon job hunting session, you question the usefulness of that piece of paper—along with your own—which only demoralizes you further.

Then, suddenly, in your inbox or on your voicemail, there it is—a job offer. Out of the blue, it shows up: a chance to be useful, productive; a chance to apply those years of work and turmoil to something that can help you build a life. But there’s a lesson learned in that time you had to wait, a humility that you know will stay with you permanently. You understand a little better why those people are sitting in parks, and crying foul against the vague “1%.” Unemployment is a truly terrible experience; that memory of emptiness will always be there to remind you to work hard, to take nothing for granted, and never to give up.

Philip Cutter

So, it was a pleasant surprise to be looking at resumes of a different kind recently, as I am on a panel that will be recruiting a career advisor—one that will, in a way, be replacing me for a year here at SFU Burnaby. (Not to worry, I’m only moving to another SFU campus in Surrey to cover a colleague’s maternity leave.)

Today, our task was to agree on a shortlist of candidates that we will be inviting for job interviews. Beforehand, our panel (there are four of us) had each reviewed a few dozen or so application packages and come up with our own lists of favourites. This being the first start-to-finish recruitment experience I’ve been involved in, I was fairly excited to engage in the process and very curious as to how my own shortlist would stack up to those of the other panel members.

While I know the advice I give to students is good stuff—information that is both intuitive and based on sound research and training—it always amazes me to see the issues come to life from the perspective of the employer. I can talk a good game about using visual appeal and creativity on resumes, but actually being in the position of having to choose candidates from dozens of resumes that look exactly the same really drives the point home.

Unfortunately, I did have to spend about an hour and a half reading through resumes and cover letters that looked (and sounded) like virtual clones of one another. It’s telling that these were applicants for a career advisor position, many of whom had significant experience in the field of career development. In other words, most had no doubt spent a lot of time giving other people resume advice.

Fortunately, there were some gems in the pile as well—those who really made a unique case and presented themselves with both creativity and professionalism. Their cover letters did not make me sigh audibly when I saw how long they were (and they didn’t start with the sentence: “Please accept the attached resume in application for the position of Career Services Advisor…”). I got a clear sense that each was a real person with a unique personality and some very relevant strengths.

Overall, I selected a list of people who accomplished just that for me: made a unique, creative and professional presentation of their strengths. My list had some names that others on the panel also liked, and some they didn’t. In the end, though, we came to a consensus through a good discussion of the strengths and weaknesses of each application.

Having gone through this short-listing experience, I re-affirmed some basic concepts when it comes to resume and cover letter writing:

1. Format and content are about equal in importance when it comes to writing these documents. I just didn’t have the time or patience to struggle through the poorly formatted applications—especially those near the end of the list.

2. Targeting your application documents to each job posting is essential. We made some cuts based very much on how well applicants aligned with our theoretical and philosophical underpinnings, which would be completely different for other Career Advisor postings.

3. Entitlement = bad. No one is going to hire you if you write an entire cover letter and resume that you clearly just sent out to as many job postings as you could, detailing your extensive work history without once mentioning that you have relevant experience. This makes people think that you think they owe you a job, and that’s the most off-putting quality I can think of in an applicant.

Stay tuned next week for part two: the interviews!

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

By November, classes seem emptier and many people seem to fall off the face of the planet, locked into work/study mode. Some even goes as far as getting a friend to change their Facebook password to avoid the temptation of that time sucker.

Maybe it’s because I am only taking first-year courses, but this all seems strange to me. How is it that school can absorb a person’s entire life? Have these people let everything pile up to the point that they can’t even be social on a Saturday night (Don’t lie to me—I know you don’t have class on Sundays!)? There are two possible answers to these questions.

The first: students are stressing themselves out more than they should be. I understand the need to do well in school, but it should not take over your entire life. I have a few friends who refuse to do anything remotely social (e.g., go to a movie, go to a club or bar) until they are done their last exam. Even in upper years this really shouldn’t be the case, which leads me to the second possible answer to where in the world is Carmen Sandiego all of these students have gone to: prioritization.

This is where we can start to point fingers (or our Wiimotes) at Skyward Sword and Skyrim for creating overstressed university students. Other factors could include Twilight: Sparkly Vampires and other dangerous distractions during the final leg of the fall term.

While it’s easier said than done, you have to set priorities to help maintain your sanity during the whirlwind month that is November. Of course, school should be your top priority. Attend classes, study for exams, get those papers done, but don’t go overboard. Try as you might, you can’t memorize the entire textbook.

Manage your time so you can get everything done, but make sure to take time away from the books/papers. Sleep is going to be your best friend, followed by your actual best friends. Find ways to maintain your health and your sanity—otherwise all of your work will be for naught.

Like always, I’m going to push physical activity on you. If you’ve been reading my blogs since I left Humber you should be in amazing shape. No excuses. Go to the gym, go for a walk, try to touch your toes. Get your blood pumping for a few minutes without worrying about what assignments you have to finish. You still have plenty of time to complete them (hopefully).

Take the time to let your friends know that you are, in fact, still alive. I’m not saying you have to go binge drinking, but don’t turn yourself into a social pariah. I give you permission to go see Twilight: Why Does That Guy Never Wear a Shirt? But only once! I know it’s going to be amazing, but you still have work to do.

Anyway, Charles Trippy and Alli Speed (CTFxC of YouTube) got married two days ago. This is far more important than any Royal Wedding, so I’m going to completely ignore everything else and all of my previous advice and make watching that video my number one priority. That is, if it’s uploaded…

As always, good luck with exams, good luck with papers. Winter break is nearly upon us!

I’m on my second venti coffee today and it’s only 10:30 a.m. Therefore my tweets are bound to be hilarious. Or just written in all caps…

Be the first to hear about new blog posts and the occasional video that will distract you from studying here!

Fraser Tripp