Earlier this year, my son Tiger (an affectionate pseudonym) was dreaming of a six-month engineering placement in Sydney where his uncle lives. A proud, self-starting, action man, he was nonetheless exhausted by study deadlines and revision, and he’d spent too much time he didn’t have applying and being endlessly rejected for roles in a competitive field. The task was just overwhelming. I knew if I explicitly offered help, he’d refuse. So I had to use my ingenuity.
Without telling him, I threw a few hours at it, identifying small Australian-owned firms (who would never advertise) and picking out names of key staff. I gave him the list. After exam season, Tiger went through them (somewhat impressed at my sleuthing) and ‘cold emailed’. One replied positively! His mouth curled into a smile.
This warm lead then cooled because the CEO wasn’t prompt at answering questions. Diffident and shy about hassling, Tiger assumed he wasn’t wanted. Again, I knew he wouldn’t listen to me, so I recruited my two brothers-in-law. Could they coach him? They tackled him enthusiastically with cheerleading and business advice. He then made a phone call and sealed the deal. The CEO even congratulated him saying, “No one ever telephones these days.” He flew out in January.
It’s hard to avoid the conviction that it’s now more challenging than in any time in living memory for young people emerging into adulthood. The rate of overt, visible change in 100 years is so shocking it’s beyond most of our capacity to feel genuinely relaxed about it.
