The other day I was contacted by a recruiter. An honest-to-God recruiter. Not one of the usual generic algorithm-generated emails talking about “companies hiring in [my] area,” but a real person who reached out to me about a potential job offer. And then it happened again. And again. And a fourth time. All in all, in the past month or so I have been contacted by recruiters at least four times about positions they think “I would be a great fit for.” Each time, I can’t help but laugh.
Firstly, because just a year ago most of these people wouldn’t have given me the time of day. They wouldn’t have opened my emails or read my resume, wouldn’t have forwarded along my applications to companies they think I would be a good fit for, wouldn’t have read my cover letter, and wouldn’t have thought about me for more than a second before they moved my email to the trash.
Secondly, I laugh because I can’t help but appreciate the incredulity. Is this really happening to me? Did they email the wrong person? Is this what it feels like to be poached? I know you may roll your eyes and think I am just full of hot air, getting high on my own accomplishments for no reason—and you’re probably right. But something in the job search environment has changed: I think it’s me.
I had a terrible time finding jobs in law school. Every semester I sent out oceans of applications for summer programs, internships, and law clerk positions. I had a decent GPA, was part of a well-known fellowship program, and was a first-generation college (and law) student. It just didn’t happen for me. I watched my classmates take high-paid internships at prestigious firms and I was there when those internships turned into full-time jobs.
I worked summer internships that turned into part-time jobs during the school year, but I was never offered a post-law-school position. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy myself; I made a lot of friends along the way, but it still meant that I was on my own for finding a job. Looking back, I don’t know what I could have done differently; I followed the advice of every career self-help article, checked for new postings every day, and even applied for positions I knew I would hate—which is how I got my first job. I cried after I was offered the position not because I was happy, but because I was disappointed in myself for not finding a better job.
This all sounds very morose, but I promise this story has a point. Now, two and a half years after graduation, things are very different. My friends who took jobs at big firms are mostly miserable, they work long hours for (good) pay but ultimately miss out on life. A few of them even quit. A lot of my classmates have made their first job change and are practicing in an area (I hope) that they actually enjoy.
What I mean to say is: 1) your first job out of law school will not be your last, and 2) your job hunt will get easier with time. Here’s an embarrassing fact: I applied to over 120 jobs looking for my first position. I applied to about 60 when I was ready to move somewhere else. I understand that job hunting is emotionally taxing. You are putting yourself out in front of numerous HR departments, hoping that they can see who you really are, and identify you as a top candidate. Every non-response or “Thank you for your application, but…” feels like another chip in the façade of your professional identity. You feel worthless and wonder if law school was a mistake in the first place. All I will tell you is to keep going. If you end up at job you hate, strategize about how to orient your career towards one you love. Do the extra work—the hard work—the stuff no one else wants to do. Even if you hate your job, be good at it. At a certain point, the slate of applicants will start to segregate into those who had good luck in finding their last job, and those who make their make their own luck to find a better position.
With this in mind, I wish you all the best of luck on your job search, and even more than that, I hope you feel the same wave of pride when you are (eventually) contacted by a recruiter. I hope you pause, smile to yourself, and think, “Wow, things have changed.”
