September 10th, 2008 §
I’ve talked about this for months now – my intention to move to London to pursue an MSc in Human-Computer Interaction and explore new opportunities. Now that I’m finally here in the UK, I realize the last few weeks is only the beginning of yet another long and potentially emotional journey.
For those of you who are curious about moving and removing every single item in your home, saying goodbye to all your loved ones, and establishing the necessary arrangements for the move without digging your own grave - I assure you this is all possible… my wife and I have done it in only a matter of weeks.
Possible, but painful.
Uprooting is chaotic
Unforseen circumstances make it most challenging for a first timer. It doesn’t help someone like me who wants everything in place. There are never any guarantees, but you must plan for it anyway. There is a lot of planning and execution needed, and thank God my wife was there to lead in that respect.
If you’re a kind of pie-in-the-sky individual, you need someone who’s good with schedules, numbers, and getting things done. Otherwise, you might end up losing a lot in transition – opportunities, money, relationships, sleep, etc.
Our UK visa was rejected the first time, and we didn’t plan for that. Even now, I am waiting for my UK bank account to be opened. I have no idea when it will. Although we got here in one place, there were news reports of a strike threatening to delay flights in Bangkok, where we were transiting.
Plan well. Execute well. Count your blessings.
Uprooting is costly
A lot of things we didn’t manage to sell to friends and through private sales ended up at the Cash Converters, and we lost about 70% to 80% of our initial investment in a blink of an eye, even after depreciation. An ikea dining plate that cost me RM25 returned only RM2 at the counter. I sold about dozen of them. I had to remind myself that it’s just part of the process.
Despite this, we needed to maintain sufficient funds for fees, and living in the UK. The UK Border Agency demands that, or visas will be rejected. These funds can be so large sometimes, that it takes years to build up. It taught me the virtue of saving, budgeting, and living within my means. It also taught me gratitude, especially to my parents.
Moving will no doubt cost you, so plan for that as well.
Uprooting is emotional
I had to let go of a lot of things. Our beautiful oak dining table I got from Ikea went to my in-laws, and I cringed as I saw it covered by tablecloth with no hint of oak left, save for its feet. Apparently, someone in the family tends to spill a lot, so the table cloth prevents the table from soiling. I just resisted making comment.
I also had to say goodbye to the boardgame nights with my buddies. It won’t ever be the same without them, and I will miss them dearly. I was already letting go of a lot of this in the last few months to ease the transition, but when there’s a void, it needs to be filled.
I bought a London resident’s guide to help me and my wife re-acquaint ourselves with our new home. I got in touch with friends and family living in the UK. I watched TopGear episodes, and downloaded even more. I tried to stop spelling in American English (it’s hard). I told my wife about ‘crisps’, ‘chips’ and ‘fries’. We bought London moleskin journals.
It helped some, but I was careful not to pretend everything was going to be okay just because I could speak and write English well. Even with my uncle who’s lived here for 37 years, I can pick out how little things I say can miscommunicate a lot of things.
Uprooting is necessary
Even despite the challenges we’ve been through, and despite the uncertainty ahead of us, we were happy we stuck to our decision. The paradox of uncertainty vs. just trying for the sake of it is as ironic as the risk that’s involved, but that’s essentially human in a way that it demands to be celebrated.
Each individual is responsible for their own destiny. Focus, clarity, maturity, experience, closure, success – these are some of the things I’ve been aiming for. I believe they’re part of what all of us want, as well.
But in order for me to achieve these things, I felt I had to uproot myself – simply because I was holding on to too many things. I let go of things like job security, some close relationships, resonable comfort, personal belongings, my home country in exchange for growth, opportunity, autonomy, value, and a more focussed career.
It may not be the same for others, but my point is that sacrifices are real in life.
Real, and necessary.
Resources:
August 22nd, 2008 §
I just sold two of my cars recently, in preparation to move to the UK. The first car was a Perodua Kelisa, a locally manufactured supermini with a 3-cylinder 1000cc engine that’s simple, affordable, and popular. The second car, a 8-year-old Alfa Romeo 146, is an Italian made sedan that looks like a hatchback, drives like a tourer, sings like a diva, and requires more TLC than your average Toyota. This is a useful case study for passion vs. pop.
The Kelisa was easy to sell, but I didn’t get my way with pricing. There were hundreds of other Kelisas waiting to be picked up. I decided to settle for a quick deal, instead of haggling over price. This was despite knowing that I would be receiving a dozen more calls over the next few days about the car.
The Alfa was different. There were a very unique set of potential buyers. Most of them were Alfa owners previously. To other buyers, I had to explain the car to them, and describe its “Alfa-ness”. The person who ended up buying it was someone who previously owned an Italian car, understood its dynamics, and set his heart on getting one. It was about waiting for the right candidate. I didn’t have to flinch on price very much.
Job searching is very often like this. I want to move from a very common job role as a software programmer to a very niche role as a usability engineer. For me to get a job as a programmer is dead simple, but I probably won’t get my way with salary or benefits. As I set my sights towards becoming a usability engineer, I know that what I’m getting into will only attract certain hiring companies, with work conditions that are suitable for the role. The only issue is preparing myself, and waiting for that opportunity.
Without divulging too much information, that opportunity came knocking on my door recently. And in a place where no one hires usability workers, my profile stuck out a mile high.
My point is this, for everything you’re trying to sell – your employability, your car, your idea… whatever – there’s a market. And there’s a strategy for that sale to take place. You just need to position yourself in the right way, in order to communicate the value of the sale.
The point I didn’t make, however, is when you’re stuck in the Dip – the point between passion and pop, as described by Seth Godin. If you know you’re in the Dip, you have two options – find your way up, or find your way out. The hard part is finding out if you’re in the Dip or not.
While I was attempting to sell both cars, I wasn’t sure if I was in the Dip. I wasn’t quite happy that I quit really soon about the Kelisa. I quit fast and settled for a price I wasn’t that comfortable with. But now I’m glad I did. I wasn’t willing to take the hassle to deal with all the other buyers who were looking for quick wins. It wasn’t going to be worth it. So I quit, and went with the first buyer.
But for the Alfa, I didn’t quit. I held on to my price, because I knew it was a good price, and that someone out there was willing to appreciate the car at that value.
Nobody’s going to remember that I sold the Kelisa for the price I did. But everyone will remember the great deal I got on the sale of the Alfa. I get to keep my story. I managed to navigate both of my dips.
Navigating your own dips are very important to achieving your goals.
How well are you navigating yours?
August 12th, 2008 §
I’m almost done listening to the audio version of “The World is Flat” by Thomas L. Friedman.
When a friend first recommended it to me, I thought it was a boring history book (I was naive). It is a history book, but a brief one – about the 21st century. Friedman’s argument is that the US is losing ground to the rest of the world, particularly the East (esp. China and India), who have leveraged globalization, digitization, advances in logistics technologies and services, mobility, and the emerging flat-world culture.
I like the book, because it summarizes my observations of life, the world, and people in the last 8 years. I don’t like it because it’s highly US-centric, and offers very little help for other countries, particularly developing nations.
But it’s useful for us here in the East, especially if you are still oblivious as to why jobs are still moving to India and China, and what you can do to remain employable.
So, I’d like to offer my suggestions for employees and citizens of countries who fit this profile:
- have cheap, replaceable jobs
- are focused on easily commoditized services or products
- are unsure of how your jobs will improve over the next 5 years
- experiencing the effects of political instability
- perceives higher or further education to be of no or little value
- don’t give a hoot
1. Read the book, for crying out loud
Don’t waste your time observing the world from the surface. Friedman’s work is notable, and few of us will get the chance to interview high ranking individuals who can provide solid clues and insights to our future.
The book provided me yet another set of reasons why I believe Malaysian jobs are still stuck in the 20th century. Other books, such as “All Marketers are Liars”, and Phil McKinney’s innovation podcasts, all point to this fact. They sources may be American, but they talk about changing world, and that’s everyone.
2. If your job is insignificant, you’d better deal with it
As a software engineer, my job is insignificant. If I quit today, tomorrow there will be a hundred candidates lining up to take my job. Are you a call-center operator, an accountant, a graphic artist, a tutor, an illustrator, an employee whose job is easily outsourced? If so, your job might seem insignificant to companies, to employers, and to consumers.
Friedman argues that capitalism has forced companies to run leaner, forcing job outsourcing, insourcing, and automation to take place. Those who will get to keep their jobs fall into these four broad categories:
1. special workers – Britney Spears, Bill Gates, Madonna
2. specialized workers – stem cell researchers
3. anchored workers – doctors, barbers (localized)
4. really adaptable workers
Most of us will fit into 4, otherwise we’d be out of a job or remain in a really terrible one. I don’t like how the tone of the book leans toward jobs alone (or lack of), because I’d rather talk about having a fulfilling career. But there’s no career if there’s no job.
3. Go back to school
Don’t get a Masters or a PhD for the certificate. Do it for the smarts.
I used to believe that learning on the job was sufficient to get ahead in life, but now I disagree. The future belongs to specialists who can adapt, who relevant within a particular domain. A higher education allows you that time and space to learn and get ready to build something big.
Although Friedman argues that being versatilists are good candidates for the flat world, I want to do more than just survive. You’ll need specialization if you’re ever going to establish yourself in any career of the future. Forget about learning on the job. The internet isn’t very good for learning in depth, because there are too many distractions.
August 6th, 2008 §
I got contacted very recently by someone looking for expertise in usability. He found me on LinkedIn, which makes that the third time anyone has contacted me for opportunities based on my profile. The experiences I’ve had have been really positive. I find LinkedIn to be amazing because it’s a real shortcut for both job seekers and headhunters.
Firstly, there’s transparency with LinkedIn. I get to choose what people see on my profile. It beats having to speak to headhunters who call me from a secret database of people, because they will never tell me how they got my phone number. I feel less threatened if a headhunter contacts me through LinkedIn rather than a random phone call.
Secondly, LinkedIn is like a personal career blog – headhunters read my profile like a storybook, because I put effort to make it read a certain way. I’ve found that all my new acquaintances on LinkedIn were like career conversations that sort of pick up where I left off. People who get in touch with me talk to me as though they already know me. So, I react in the same way. It really saves a lot of time, and it’s more pleasant talking to people that way, even during a first meeting. This just beats first time phone conversations, where time is wasted explaining to the headhunter my interests and goals.
Thirdly, it feels more appropriate for someone to introduce opportunities through LinkedIn than over the phone. LinkedIn is a good place to meet people. I invest quite a bit into building my presence in LinkedIn, though not very thoroughly. I got my profile to 100% completeness. I also spent time writing recommendations to people, subscribe to groups, and answering questions. Somehow I feel better when someone wants to speak to me over a network that I’ve already built an interest in, and I can view their profile too.
Fourthly, I get a better sense of what value I portray to people who want to meet me over LinkedIn. I don’t get this with headhunters who call me over the phone. To those people, I’m just a guy with 8 years of Java experience in the telecoms industry. But with LinkedIn, those who got in touch with me seem to understand me better, and it’s rewarding to know that they’re trying to match my goals, instead of just my skills, with their requirements.
I do agree to some extent with Jeff Pulver that LinkedIn isn’t as good as Facebook for social networking (if even for business), but I prefer it that way. I like how LinkedIn is really designed with that corporate no-nonsense feel. I’d be embarrassed if a potential employer read odd posts on my Facebook Wall. I prefer to keep my work and personal life a bit more separate than others. I don’t mind employers reading this blog, though.
Finally, it’s true that blogging about your career helps your personal brand. But LinkedIn is that glue that holds everything together. One guy I met mentioned that he got my contact through my blog, while he was looking through my profile. He picked up on a few articles I posted, and we had a good chat. I don’t blog about industry topics that much on my blog, but there was something authentic and consistent across the profile and the blog posts. People get a better sense of connection about that.
Resources:
August 5th, 2008 §
I sold my car to a chicken rice seller recently. I asked him what his job looks like. He told me that he sells chicken rice from the morning to about 4pm, 7 days a week. Then at 4pm, he shuts down his stall, and goes home and prepares chicken rice for the next day. By the time he is done, he is too tired to do anything else and goes to sleep.
He and his wife mans the stall and does the work. They hire an indonesian helper to wash the dishes. Their stall costs RM1k per month to rent from the restaurant (it’s a restaurant with a few stalls, the restaurant owner leases stall space to each stall hawker).
Life is simple for them. Simple but hard.
Hardly anyone I know these days wants to start a food stall. Maybe because the perception of it is so alienating. Instead, we settle to become accountants, marketing executives, software programmers, lawyers, doctors, auditors.
At 44, the chicken rice seller now owns two cars, some properties, and who knows what else. He has the Kelisa I sold to him and the new Honda Civic that looks like a doorstop. He probably bought the Civic with cash too. I found out he’s also financing some homes, perhaps for investment. Outside of the food stall business, he probably lives his life just like everyone else.
I asked him why he’s been selling chicken rice for the past 14 years. He says it’s just how he got into the food business and doesn’t see himself doing anything else.
So I think it really doesn’t matter what you do as long as you enjoy it and can earn a decent living. It’s a lesson I learnt from the chicken rice seller, so that I don’t overcomplicate life and careers for myself.
August 2nd, 2008 §
If you want to get ahead in life, specialize. Don’t generalize.
Take it from me – I’m jack of all trades, master of none.
I do fairly good pencil portraits. I used to freelance doing graphic design. I also used to play in a college rock band, fronting the vocals and rhythm guitars. I founded a college newsletter when I was 18. I’m quite good at resume writing. I absolutely love writing and I maintain 2 blogs. I’m a software engineer by profession, but I also am a certified project manager from PMI. I have experience in more than 2 dozen software languages. Now I’m thinking of building a social network. And writing an e-book. And offering resume writing services. On top of that, I think I’m pretty okay in husband-wife relationships. And in children education. And cars. Oh, and I scuba dive.
I’ve never had a problem thinking about ideas. The problem is getting them to work. There are only a few ideas that have really taken off the floor, and that only happened because the conditions were appropriate. One of them was the college newsletter I founded, Taylor’s College ADP’s “Flipside”. As far as I know, it is still in operation today. By my time with college newsletters is far gone.
Everything else I’ve started hasn’t gone very far. Some are still standing, but getting it to the next level requires real dedication, and I’m too interested in too many things to pursue one thing for a long period of time. A lot of this has led to burn-outs. I’m making a decision today to make the change.
If you’re young, and you want to get ahead in life, generalize enough to get the job done, and spend more time specializing. Choose ONE thing that is close to your heart, and defines you best as a person. It could be something that’s related to your current job, or not. It doesn’t matter. In the course of time, this is that ONE thing that will remain part of you no matter what.
For me, it really has to do with computers. And the Internet. And design. These three things put together are really all I have really cared about in my life, from the very start.
It’s not about service to the world. It’s not about earning big bucks. But it’s something people should know you for, and something you’ll feel confident being associated with, for better or for worse. It’s like marriage, but it’s a profession, not a relationship.
If you’ve already started asking yourself HOW you should be generalizing, don’t worry – it’s really simple.
Just choose not to do anything that’s not related to that ONE thing you want to specialize in.
If you want to specialize in art, forget being an expert chef. If you want to be the world’s best pet enthusiast, forget about being the world’s best accountant.
I’m not trying to dumb down your strengths. I’m sure, with the proper dedication and time, you’ll get to be all that you can be. But there’s not enough time in the world to do everything.
My aunt used to say, “anything, but not everything”. And she’s right. You’ve got the passion, but you don’t have time.
Don’t get sidetracked. You have only one life. Choose the right battles. Make the memories count.
Don’t waste it by diluting the experience with too many things.
Resources:
July 31st, 2008 §
After spending a few hours polishing my wife’s resume today, I’ve decided to open my services to everyone else. I’ll probably go through what I did with my wife – a basic review of your existing resume, ask you a bunch of questions about your experience, lessons learnt, challenges, etc… and create eye catching points in your resume that clearly highlight your work fitness and employability.
If it’s a simple case I can answer over one email, it’s free. If you want a highly polished piece, I might charge a small fee for the effort.
Resume writing is a skill I’ve honed over the years. I’ve been through three jobs in the past, but I’ve constantly updated and polished my own resume for upkeep, and for each job that I apply for, I tune my resume to maximize impact.
I’ve never had to sit through more than 2 interviews before getting a job. That being said, my resumes are very focussed because I know exactly what I want in a job, and while the resume gets me the interview, the interview gets me the job. I always know what I’m getting into because I enjoy getting into the interviewer’s mind.
One of the reasons why I’m not as apprehensive about interviews is because people are always looking for a match. It’s like dating. This is why matchmaking feels so much like an interview. You’ve got a personal bio, which is probably all in text, and says everything about you from your pet peeves to the last movie you watched that you loved despite everyone else hating it.
Resumes can be used to handle idiosyncrasies in unique ways. This is what I call “weirdness matching”. You’re trying to match your idiosyncrasies with your potential employer’s. The resume is the first part – a resume fit for Google will look different than one that’s fit for the Red Cross. This is where idiosyncrasies can play a part.
Anyway, I’m looking to increase my readership as well. Tell your friends you heard about this guy who writes resumes for his wife and now wants to write resumes for the whole world. They might get a kick out of that and drop a comment for fun.
Or maybe you can.
July 29th, 2008 §
Today’s career is full of anomalies and subject to one’s own definition of a right set of choices. Compound that with the gap between social media and have-nots, it’s no wonder there’s so much lost in transition.
I would admit it feels really frustrating to be in the Dip.
So here’s the thing about mentoring. I’ve read a lot about how necessary they are. And to be honest, I’m not sure if I have one. Which means I’ve pulled myself ahead just this far, with just enough help from some people.
Only two or three people come to mind. The first is Jian, my ex-colleague and then team leader for a project that sent me to Bangkok for three weeks. We got along very well and we’re still close friends to today.
Every major decision I made in my career went through Jian, who’s a little more senior than me. He provided advice where necessary and listened when I talked. I felt that having someone who listens helps a lot. Not many people will give you time like that.
The other person is my cell pastor, Koon Hee. He provided me a lot of support and insight into the necessary things in life – marriage, finances, goals, promotions, etc. He didn’t have to understand the work I was doing. This is why career advice applies to almost any kind of job.
His advice was a lot more important than what bosses will talk to you about – the finer things in life. Careers are a reflection of a person’s life, and that life is filled with other things that make it complete. This is why joining a good church helps.
The last person is Charles, an ex-colleague who shares similar values, and strangely, we discovered each other while blogging. I found out that he’s been so much ahead of the game than I have, and yet… the issues we’re both working through still remain the same. Finances, relationships, careers, goals, etc. Of course, he has a lot more “war stories” than I have, and that’s what I admire in him – he walks the talk.
Authenticity is a hard game to play, and nobody plays to win. It’s about achieving dreams, and the stories we gain from it. It’s so hard that only a select few play it, but those who do live very interesting lives that are second to none.
Charles is that sort of person. He’s not a pop star. He’s not on the front page news. He’s not a multi-billion dollar CEO. But he’s bigger than life, to me at least, and I can speak to him any time of the day. That’s real, and precious, in a way.
Good mentors aren’t bought. They’re found. Relationships like these need investment, as they’re real people. As real as you are. In order to find them, you have to communicate yourself as a brand. In fact, you won’t need so much to find them, as they’ll find you. All you have to do is to continue pushing the boundaries of life, and making yourself available to people. You’ll never know who might find you something worthy of an investment.
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July 27th, 2008 §
I will be moving to London with my wife next month. I have decided to go back to school and pursue a Masters in Human-Computer Interaction at UCL, as I’m interested in making web applications and other computery things more usable. But this is about more than just that.
This is about me trying to find a place where I’m really satisfied. Satisfied about my life, about my work, about where I am, about my responsibilities, about the future, and about the things I do.
I’m not happy where I am right now. And I’m not quite sure how to solve my problem. The worst part is, nobody else can. All I knew was that I had to do something about it, and so I made a decision, back in March.
I suppose this feeling of loss is normal, otherwise there wouldn’t be a need for career counseling. But I also think career counseling is 90% motivation. So what I’ve really been struggling with isn’t about careers, but believing hard about what I want in life.
The first thing I told myself was that people are wrong. They’re wrong about career choices. They’re wrong about how to make money. They’re wrong about how to stay happy. They’re wrong about everything.
I did that just to prove to myself that nobody could give me advice worth acting upon. I heard things like, “anywhere is better than here”, “I’m sure you’ll get it”, “I’m sure you’ll make it”, “make sure you consider everything”.
Those things I felt was good advice, I put into practice. The rest, I threw away.
I couldn’t deal with all the details at once. Some people make the transition so complex that most don’t dare to try. So I threw it all out of the window.
Have I started packing? No.
Have I submitted all my visa forms? No.
Have I got accomodation all prepared? Only for the initial months.
Has my wife got a job yet? No.
When are you flying off? In about a month.
Sounds crazy? Maybe it is.
If you’re faced with a similar situation, it would likely look a lot different. And that’s the point – everyone has their own way of doing things. There are limitations, processes, rules that apply, but by-and-large some people get around it, find their own ways, or do what they need to do to get the job done.
I don’t have guarantees. But nobody else does either. I just take take a deep breath and choose my battles wisely.
A month ago, I had mood swings and bouts of depression. I felt I was a walking contradiction.
I worried that applying to a top 10 school in the UK would be almost impossible, and my CGPA didn’t meet their requirements. That led to some delays, a phone interview, and my undergrad professor having to write a comprehensive report on me.
Still, I didn’t want to apply to other universities that were less stringent. I really wanted to get into UCL. When I finally got accepted, I was thankful, but not ecstatic. There’s more to come, I thought to myself.
I feel that I’m betting my whole life to do this. And in a way, I feel this is only way it can be done. I don’t know if I’ll end up completely burned out with nothing left but the resignation that dreams only exist in books.
But that’s what people fear. And people are wrong.
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July 23rd, 2008 §
Today, I officially announced my resignation to my colleagues at our weekly team meeting. Resignations don’t take me by surprise, because people come and go all the time. What surprises me more is how people react differently to departures.
My first resignation was extremely low-key. I didn’t tell anyone short of one or two people, until the very last day. One person in particular got offended that I didn’t tell her I was leaving. She saw it as indifference, and that she was a nobody to me, although we got along OK at work. I told her that she didn’t get singled out, since I told almost no one about it, but I also apologized for any ill feelings. The rest didn’t care that much.
My second resignation took place in light of a downsizing exercise of the startup company I was working for. Although the company prepared new roles for us at an affiliated company, I wasn’t the only person leaving. But when I told my boss about it, he was concerned and asked me a lot of questions. The others were mostly silent. But everyone understood and supported my transition.
Resignations are about managing relationships
I don’t think I’ve ever burned a bridge before in my life, but I’ve dealt with all sorts of reactions and people change their views as time goes by.
I still have many of my ex-colleagues on facebook and on IM, and we talk occasionally. Most people get over the fact that a job is still a job. It’s not like Bobby running away from home.
This time though, I took more effort to manage my personal and professional relationships about my resignation.
Tell your managers ahead of time
Firstly, the moment I made the decision to leave, I told my line manager and my CEO about it, months ahead in advance. I know this doesn’t play well with everyone, but I’ve always managed the relationships with my line manager and my CEO to be able to do this. I feel it’s only important to take responsibility for the company’s needs and its people. This is because most HR departments are mostly a function of finance.
I was a senior member in the team, so losing me would mean a gap in the leadership and technical lead area. Still, they didn’t counter offer me anything, but I did get friendly support on my decision.
This is what it’s like to manage your own career, which is how it’s like in most companies
You’re expected to make your own choices, and unless a specific culture or policy has been put in place, communicated, and encouraged, it’s a norm for people to make up their minds to just get their work done, go home, come back the next day to do the same thing.
Prioritize your relationships accordingly
Secondly, the sequence of which I informed people of my resignation was based on my relationship with them. This depended on their authority, how close I was to the person, and on circumstances. Bosses and managers came first. People who were close to me came next. Next were people who worked with me on a project that had a stake in my work. After that came the rest of the team, and then the whole world (which is why I’m writing now).
Some say it’s politics. Some say it’s being nice. I just think it’s important.
Invest in people
I didn’t do this for my first job because I was a noob, but relationships will become more important than a resumes as years pass. Even LinkedIn CEO Dan Nye says this.
Thirdly, I told people why I was leaving. I’ve been accepted to pursue a Masters in HCI in the UK. There are many good reasons for me to do this, so when people asked, I told them. This was okay because I wasn’t going to a competitor firm, and it made sense.
People want the comfort of understanding that their decisions are sound
Almost everyone I spoke to understood my conviction and supported my decision to leave. They also clarified their own positions and didn’t feel threatened by my departure.
No employee should be afraid to leave a job for the right reasons. If it’s well-managed, it can be beneficial and amicable. You just need the right perspective and some effort.
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