- Email: [email protected]
Still working
Business Horizons (2016) 59, 5—6
Available online at www.sciencedirect.com
ScienceDirect www.elsevier.com/locate/bushor
EDITOR’S PERSPECTIVE
Still working Marc J. Dollinger Kelley School of Business, Indiana University, 1309 E. 10th Street, Bloomington, IN 47405-1701, U.S.A.
I am still working. But not for much longer. At least, not as editor of Business Horizons. My last day on the job is June 30, 2016. I will miss everything about being editor. But when it is time to go, it is time to go. People say to me: ‘‘How did you get to be editorin-chief of Business Horizons?’’ Some of them ask because they are curious just how low the bar is set. Some think that there is a secret to securing the best job in the world. Others ask because they want the job for themselves. I cannot blame them. One answer to the question of how I became editor is simply: ‘‘I was asked.’’ I didn’t lobby, didn’t have it on my radar, didn’t throw my hat in the ring. Dean Idie Kesner sat down in my office one day and said: ‘‘How about being editor of Business Horizons?’’ It didn’t take long for me to say yes. A better answer might detail the jobs I held prior to being asked. After all, this is the path that led me to this great job. I would like to think that my work experience makes the man, rather than what’s in my clothes closet. Starting at the beginning. . . 1. My first paid employment was as a counselor at a Jewish day camp in Brooklyn. I enjoyed the kids and the responsibility. I only lasted 2 weeks, though. I had to quit when my friends made fun of me for the dorky T-shirt, shorts, and cap. I was 13.
2. Next I worked in a kosher catering hall, also in Brooklyn, as a busboy. This was my job, more or less, from ages 14 through 17. My father got me the position since he was the manager of the catering hall; my mother also worked there as a waitress. I still had to wear a dorky uniform–— white shirt, black pants, and a string tie–—but the job was like hitting the jackpot. Ten dollars per assignment (mostly weekend evenings once the Sabbath was over) plus tips! There were many older Jewish folks looking to spread their dollar bills around to young Jewish boys to fetch them things. I did a lot of hustling for tips and encountered insane service situations. You can (l)earn a lot just by taking care of people. 3. The summer before college, my friend Mark and I took jobs in a manufacturing plant a few neighborhoods over from where we lived. We drove every day and were pretty independent. Our task was to seal small airplane parts into boxes and plastic bags for military aircraft. There was a war going on and we took our jobs seriously, at least for a while. The full-timers didn’t take their jobs nearly as seriously, though, and soon we were all drinking beers and smoking stuff on the clock. Mark and I were caught and fired as an example to the regulars. 4. My freshman year in college I took an offcampus job as a waiter at the local Howard Johnson’s in Buffalo, NY. I was that HoJo’s first and only male service person. All the other servers, then called waitresses, were female.
E-mail address: [email protected] 0007-6813/$ — see front matter # 2015 Kelley School of Business, Indiana University. Published by Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.bushor.2015.06.001
6
EDITOR’S PERSPECTIVE I did the heavy lifting for everyone and this is where I first became interested in feminism. The duration of my college career, I went back to the catering hall during holiday breaks to earn extra cash. 5. Graduating from college with a degree in history, I had no employment prospects. But I did interview at the National Security Agency. It seemed a step up in many ways from the post office, which was my mother’s recommendation. I didn’t end up getting the NSA job. Too bad, because by now I would have all of your phone numbers. 6. I decided to attend graduate school at that point and made money as a waiter, bartender, assistant manager, and then manager of a nowdefunct steakhouse chain. I had been doing variants of these jobs since I was 14, more or less, and I was good at them. Nonetheless, I was fired in a little over a year. My boss had been stealing and I knew about it. When pressured to tell all, I quit. But before I could get out of my chair, I was fired. So maybe it was a tie. There went my plans to teach history. 7. My clothes/uniform only got dorkier with my next job. I was a university cafeteria and food services manager, and had to wear a white shirt, white pants, and black bow tie. I was good at this, too, and being close in age to the students (i.e., customers) I was happy to slip them extra food. I did not get fired for this, but instead quit to start my MBA at the same school: Lehigh University. I loved it there and after completing my MBA, I was invited to stay on for a PhD. 8. Under faculty supervision, I worked at Lehigh as the director of the Small Business Center. This allowed me to get my schoolwork done and also consult with real business people with real business problems. It was all very gratifying. . .and I was able to wear real-people clothes, too! The best thing that happened to me at Lehigh, though, was having my dissertation advisor tell me that I could write a solid declarative sentence from time to time. This was inspiration and it foreshadowed my present situation.
9. My first academic job was as an assistant professor at the University of Kentucky. I brought my declarative sentence talents to Lexington. After 5 modestly successful years I moved on to Indiana University. I went from assistant to associate to full professor, and then I was asked to be chair of the Undergraduate Program. I looked after the program for 6 years and everything I learned bussing tables and waiting on old Jewish ladies was critical to my success. Everything. 10. And so, a number of years after stepping down as chair, Dean Kesner made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. And here I am. Now you are probably thinking: ‘‘What lessons did he learn from all this?’’ First, there is no such thing as a dorky uniform because there is dignity in all work, no matter how we are dressed. Sometimes people make assumptions about working and workers based on how they appear and how they are outfitted. These assumptions frequently translate into behavior, and the behavior is–—more often than not–— condescending. An exception in these times is a military uniform, I suppose. We should not be so judgmental of folks working hard for us and for their companies. Second, being nice is a learned behavior and getting paid for it helps make a habit of it. Everyone should work as a service employee at some point. This will teach you to be nice even if your thoughts are not so nice. Since we know that behavior change precedes thinking change, eventually your thoughts will engage your empathy. Finally, career planning has come a long way since I was a kid. There was no aptitude testing when I was in high school. There was no placement office when I was in college. I graduated in a baby boom rush to the job market and we were all competing for the same jobs. The students who went to law school or medical school or other professional graduate schools were certainly the exception. I had never heard of an MBA degree until a few weeks before I applied for one. While there is great inefficiency in having the invisible hand dominate the job market (versus a planned or even a command economy), there is a great deal of satisfaction in landing on your feet and succeeding on your own. That’s my perspective.
Available online at www.sciencedirect.com
ScienceDirect www.elsevier.com/locate/bushor
EDITOR’S PERSPECTIVE
Still working Marc J. Dollinger Kelley School of Business, Indiana University, 1309 E. 10th Street, Bloomington, IN 47405-1701, U.S.A.
I am still working. But not for much longer. At least, not as editor of Business Horizons. My last day on the job is June 30, 2016. I will miss everything about being editor. But when it is time to go, it is time to go. People say to me: ‘‘How did you get to be editorin-chief of Business Horizons?’’ Some of them ask because they are curious just how low the bar is set. Some think that there is a secret to securing the best job in the world. Others ask because they want the job for themselves. I cannot blame them. One answer to the question of how I became editor is simply: ‘‘I was asked.’’ I didn’t lobby, didn’t have it on my radar, didn’t throw my hat in the ring. Dean Idie Kesner sat down in my office one day and said: ‘‘How about being editor of Business Horizons?’’ It didn’t take long for me to say yes. A better answer might detail the jobs I held prior to being asked. After all, this is the path that led me to this great job. I would like to think that my work experience makes the man, rather than what’s in my clothes closet. Starting at the beginning. . . 1. My first paid employment was as a counselor at a Jewish day camp in Brooklyn. I enjoyed the kids and the responsibility. I only lasted 2 weeks, though. I had to quit when my friends made fun of me for the dorky T-shirt, shorts, and cap. I was 13.
2. Next I worked in a kosher catering hall, also in Brooklyn, as a busboy. This was my job, more or less, from ages 14 through 17. My father got me the position since he was the manager of the catering hall; my mother also worked there as a waitress. I still had to wear a dorky uniform–— white shirt, black pants, and a string tie–—but the job was like hitting the jackpot. Ten dollars per assignment (mostly weekend evenings once the Sabbath was over) plus tips! There were many older Jewish folks looking to spread their dollar bills around to young Jewish boys to fetch them things. I did a lot of hustling for tips and encountered insane service situations. You can (l)earn a lot just by taking care of people. 3. The summer before college, my friend Mark and I took jobs in a manufacturing plant a few neighborhoods over from where we lived. We drove every day and were pretty independent. Our task was to seal small airplane parts into boxes and plastic bags for military aircraft. There was a war going on and we took our jobs seriously, at least for a while. The full-timers didn’t take their jobs nearly as seriously, though, and soon we were all drinking beers and smoking stuff on the clock. Mark and I were caught and fired as an example to the regulars. 4. My freshman year in college I took an offcampus job as a waiter at the local Howard Johnson’s in Buffalo, NY. I was that HoJo’s first and only male service person. All the other servers, then called waitresses, were female.
E-mail address: [email protected] 0007-6813/$ — see front matter # 2015 Kelley School of Business, Indiana University. Published by Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.bushor.2015.06.001
6
EDITOR’S PERSPECTIVE I did the heavy lifting for everyone and this is where I first became interested in feminism. The duration of my college career, I went back to the catering hall during holiday breaks to earn extra cash. 5. Graduating from college with a degree in history, I had no employment prospects. But I did interview at the National Security Agency. It seemed a step up in many ways from the post office, which was my mother’s recommendation. I didn’t end up getting the NSA job. Too bad, because by now I would have all of your phone numbers. 6. I decided to attend graduate school at that point and made money as a waiter, bartender, assistant manager, and then manager of a nowdefunct steakhouse chain. I had been doing variants of these jobs since I was 14, more or less, and I was good at them. Nonetheless, I was fired in a little over a year. My boss had been stealing and I knew about it. When pressured to tell all, I quit. But before I could get out of my chair, I was fired. So maybe it was a tie. There went my plans to teach history. 7. My clothes/uniform only got dorkier with my next job. I was a university cafeteria and food services manager, and had to wear a white shirt, white pants, and black bow tie. I was good at this, too, and being close in age to the students (i.e., customers) I was happy to slip them extra food. I did not get fired for this, but instead quit to start my MBA at the same school: Lehigh University. I loved it there and after completing my MBA, I was invited to stay on for a PhD. 8. Under faculty supervision, I worked at Lehigh as the director of the Small Business Center. This allowed me to get my schoolwork done and also consult with real business people with real business problems. It was all very gratifying. . .and I was able to wear real-people clothes, too! The best thing that happened to me at Lehigh, though, was having my dissertation advisor tell me that I could write a solid declarative sentence from time to time. This was inspiration and it foreshadowed my present situation.
9. My first academic job was as an assistant professor at the University of Kentucky. I brought my declarative sentence talents to Lexington. After 5 modestly successful years I moved on to Indiana University. I went from assistant to associate to full professor, and then I was asked to be chair of the Undergraduate Program. I looked after the program for 6 years and everything I learned bussing tables and waiting on old Jewish ladies was critical to my success. Everything. 10. And so, a number of years after stepping down as chair, Dean Kesner made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. And here I am. Now you are probably thinking: ‘‘What lessons did he learn from all this?’’ First, there is no such thing as a dorky uniform because there is dignity in all work, no matter how we are dressed. Sometimes people make assumptions about working and workers based on how they appear and how they are outfitted. These assumptions frequently translate into behavior, and the behavior is–—more often than not–— condescending. An exception in these times is a military uniform, I suppose. We should not be so judgmental of folks working hard for us and for their companies. Second, being nice is a learned behavior and getting paid for it helps make a habit of it. Everyone should work as a service employee at some point. This will teach you to be nice even if your thoughts are not so nice. Since we know that behavior change precedes thinking change, eventually your thoughts will engage your empathy. Finally, career planning has come a long way since I was a kid. There was no aptitude testing when I was in high school. There was no placement office when I was in college. I graduated in a baby boom rush to the job market and we were all competing for the same jobs. The students who went to law school or medical school or other professional graduate schools were certainly the exception. I had never heard of an MBA degree until a few weeks before I applied for one. While there is great inefficiency in having the invisible hand dominate the job market (versus a planned or even a command economy), there is a great deal of satisfaction in landing on your feet and succeeding on your own. That’s my perspective.