How orange juice changed my destiny
Daniel Space
Sr HRBP Director | HR Speaker, Content Creator and Author (DanFromHR) | Strategic HR Management and Myth Buster
Over my long HR career working for companies, and my recent foray into consulting one common phenomenon that is fascinating to reflect on is the idea of a critical career point.
Call it "the universe", "fate", "destiny" or "being in the right place at the right time", it seems like a common enough occurence that there are times in which a series of events unfolds perfectly right in front of you and it's simply up to you to take that chance.
They can be hiding in plain sight.
That time you didn't get the promotion. Or when your co-worker made an off-hand comment that gave you pause. Or someone in your network asked for your help on something and now your seeing something in a different way.
As I look over the course of my own career, there are four altogether, but two that stand out the most. During that moment it didn't seem like such a big deal, but when I reflect on it I realize that I made a choice that altered the next few years of my life professionally.
The first was right after college.
FML....WHAT?
I was sold on the "American Dream" and finished my degree at a SUNY School with a degree in Classical Saxophone Performance. Even if you don't know too much about music, I'm sure you can deduce this was not exactly a hot market in which to find gainful employment.
I was in Manhattan at the time and had moved back home. Being the first kid with a college degree was a great feeling. Moving back home was a little weird, but still felt good and since I had done everything I was supposed to, I just assumed a job would come next and fall into my lap.
Oh you poor sweet child of Summer....
It took 53 interviews, over the course of 7 months, before I finally got hired in my first "real role"
Somewhere in the high 30s of the 53 of my non-stop interviewing marathon, I was brought into a small marketing firm. The role was for an Office Manager and was posted at entry level. My interviewer was a woman named Dawn, she was the HR Manager.
After 10 minutes of me being horrible at the interview, Dawn informed me that I would not be further considered, but asked instead the one question nobody really had. I myself really hadn't asked it yet: "Daniel...what is it that you want to do?"
We spent the next 20 minutes having my first ever "career coaching" conversation and Dawn had inspired me that HR might actually be a good fit. (She also gave me some free resume and interview pointers)
From that point forward, I noticed there was an improvement in my job hunting. Instead of just blanket applying to every single "Entry Level" role possible in Marketing, Tech, Ops, Product, Sales, Real Estate, Communication, etc. I started focusing on just HR roles. I could tell my candidacy was being taken more seriously. I was doing better in interviews, I was making it to round 2 and round 3. I once got very close and was one of the final two candidates to be an HR Coordinator for Warner Brothers.
As I crossed into my sixth month of unemployment, my Mom who had been my biggest and most steadfast supporter, had started making it clear that very soon it would be expected that I pay a portion of rent and that 6 months of lounging around her house, playing video games and talking to all of my college friends was enough of being a sloth. She gave me an ultimatum that if couldn't find a job by the next month, that I should apply to be a waiter, or work in retail until I could find gainful employment.
While initially annoyed, deep down I agreed with her. Nothing is worse for the human psyche than atrophy and stasis and I was definitely feeling miserable after so much time of doing absolutely nothing.
It was a few days after that talk when I saw the job description (on Monster of all places- who else remembers that?)
It was published in Human Resources, and the title was "Leave of Absence Coordinator"
Entry level. The post advertised the rate was a standard $20 an hour and the way it described the job role made sense to me. I didn't have any real experience in HR, just a few months of basic office experience, but I felt like I could do what the role was describing (process Leave of Absences, answer questions, ensure compliance, etc)
I arrived at the office a half-hour early. Wearing a suit, cleanly shaven. After I gave my name to the receptionist, the cork-board in the waiting room caught my eye. A big flashy ribbon saying "Leave of Absence Rules and Regulations" and next to that "EEOC Postings"
I remembered something about the job description mentioned "FMLA" (Family Medical Leave Act) So I stood up and walked to the board. It explained everything about FMLA (which is a federal statute the protects your employment in the case of you or a family member being ill for up to 3 months). I read the board a few times and was in the midst of returning to my chair when the interview came out to greet me.
She took us to a conference room and after a few moments of introductions and the 'niceties' she asked one question: "So what can you tell me about FMLA?"
I was offered the role 30 minutes later. Thus starting my career in HR.
I remained with that first role for about 8 months. I took a role with Footstar as a Benefits Associate, and then went to The Children's Place and turned into a Benefits Specialist. I took a role with MARS, Inc as an HR Generalist and did some contract work with PwC as an HR Manager. This ultimately led to WebMD, where I spent nearly 6 years, and led me to my next critical career point, nearly a decade later.
Orange Juice and Destiny
It was an early, sticky morning in July of 2013.
I had been with WebMD for more than 5 years. I saw several CEOs come and go, two large lay-offs, three different HR leaders. I was comfortable, well-established. I was known for the summer internship program, handling the never-ending employee relations and for coming up with an internal recognition program.
Due to re-organizations, I had switched managers and was now reporting to the HR Director in Atlanta. She was a respected peer before then, but we didn't really speak too much, so when this decision happened, it was a little unusual for both of us at first, but we made it work.
She was a huge ally and a phenomenal manager and she was the one that really helped me transition out of being a "generalist" and into "a business partner" in which HR takes a much more valuable place by understanding and getting to know the business and being a talent consultant and less on policy/policing.
On this particular sticky morning, on my way to the subway that would start my one-hour commute, I stopped at the Rite-Aid next to my stop on the E/F line and bought a bottle of Tropicana Orange Juice. I hesitated for a second, and grabbed a second bottle.
The first long sip of the cold, tart drink was heaven and within 10 minutes, and about to board an F train, both bottles were empty.
At 34th Street, I decided against getting off the train. I usually got off on either 34th or 42nd and walked down to our office on 16th and 8th, but the 40 ounces of orange juice I had just consumed was definitely making it's way to my bladder.
By the time I reached the front doors to the office, the pressure had really began to build and for those who haven't worked there, WebMD at the time had 2 sets of bathrooms. One was right by the front area and was usually only visited by interviewees. Most employees used the larger sets of bathrooms in the center of the floor.
Well after all that orange juice, I had to use the one that was closest to the door and as I walked in, a colleague was walking out. We literally ran into each other and I saw him pause in the doorway as I nearly skip-ran to the urinals.
A few minutes later, feeling waves of relief and with clean hands, I stepped out of the bathroom and saw my colleague on the waiting bench. He asked if he could talk to me for a few minutes. He was in HR, but a different department. We were friendly, but not close so I assumed this was about a work issue.
I first noticed that we weren't going to the HR area, he instead walked me to a quiet remote area where some of Finance sat and we hopped into an empty office. I could see from his physical demeanor that he was a little uncomfortable. He kept starting to talk, stopped, thought for a second, and then restarted.
Eventually, he got to the point. A senior leader within our department had been talking to another leader in front of my colleague and the subject of me came up and the senior HR leader had said some things that indicated I wasn't going to see much future growth. It was a complete accident that my colleague heard it. He had just stepped into the leader's office and didn't realize the other one was there.
He asked me to keep it confidential and as he left he said: "I decided I wasn't going to say anything. It isn't really my business and I didn't know the context, and as I was leaving the restroom, I had literally just decided to not say anything to you, and then I opened the door and see you on the other side...and I don't know...I guess I would just want to know if the situation was reversed."
I was pretty annoyed but kept his confidence.
During my weekly 1:1 call with my boss, I decided to tell her everything. I trusted her completely, still do.
After I finished my ranting, she asked a simple question: "Well Daniel, what do you want to do?"
When she said it, it gave me a small series of chills. This was what Dawn had said to me more than a decade ago.
I asked her one question: "What does my career trajectory look like?"
She answered with candor: "You are smart, and well known. You have good business relationships with your clients and you can do your job well. You are also at a dead end, you will not grow farther here. As your boss, I would ask you to stay because you have good job security and frankly you'd be very hard to replace. As your friend, I think you should be thinking about your next opportunity and what is best for you?"
I thought it over, but my mind was already made up.
By the end of the day, I submitted my resignation. I took an unusual approach and gave 10 weeks of notice. I wanted to finish out the summer internship program and a few job family projects that were close to ending and I wanted to make sure I had enough time to find the right next role.
My boss said I was a little stupid for doing it that way. My partner said the same. They both said I should just interview and then resign when I found the next role. They were right, but I still needed to do it my way, and that meant putting an end date on WebMD, no matter what.
Compared to the last time I had been unemployed, this job search was far more productive. Having nearly 7-8 years of HR experience with companies like The Children's Place and WebMD opened up a lot of opportunities within corporate retail, financial services, media agencies, and pharmaceutical companies.
I got to second and third rounds a few times. I even got to a final offer stage, but turned it down. It didn't "feel" right. I didn't know what I was waiting for, but I knew something good was coming.
My last day was going to be October 4th.
By September 11th, I was starting the first round to with two new companies, and was up to a third round with another. A company I really liked decided to pause the role until 2014. I was beginning to regret turning down the first role offered.
It was on that afternoon, and having dinner with my growingly stressed out partner, that he said something that struck a nerve:
"Daniel, all of these places and companies you are interviewing for...they all just sound like the same thing you were doing, just making a little more money. You gave all this notice I thought because you wanted to take the next step. No?"
He was right and after another impromptu 10pm call with my manager/mentor, I had a burst of inspiration. Something she said *also* resonated with me: "It's time for you to do something else. Join a start-up, or a huge company, or one that has international experience. Look for companies in industries you like? Books? Video Games or something?"
Video Game companies....
I hadn't even thought of that.
I was a *huge* gamer, I have been all my life. I hadn't ever thought of doing HR for a video game company.
I entered "video games" and "human resources" in the LinkedIn search bar.
The first hit was for an HR Business Partner for Electronic Arts, the world's largest publisher of video games and responsible for hits like Madden, FIFA, The Sims, Dragon's Age and Battlefield.
My heart was racing with excitement as I read the job description. It was everything I was doing, but for a VIDEO GAME company.
Then I saw the location, San Francisco.
I was born and raised in NYC. I went to college 2 hours north of the city (far enough to try independence, close enough to visit family and friends). I never had a thought or desire of leaving NYC. I decided to apply for the role on a whim.
I sent a LinkedIn note to the head of HR. (My first note was completely blank because I sent it too soon, luckily he was nice enough to read the second)
He asked if I would be willing to relocate and a week later, I had my first phone screen. I then had a number of video and conference calls and the third week of September I was flown to their campus in San Francisco for a day of interviews, with peers from HR, business leaders and a few HR Managers.
I thought I had done well, the recruiter reached out every few days and told me there were 3 other candidates in the pipe.
Time went on and before I knew it, my last week of WebMD arrived.
By my last day, I was in a nervous panic-attack. I couldn't enjoy the fare-well lunch my colleagues put together because it was starting to hit that on Monday, I would now be unemployed. Never-mind the small financial stress as I ran calculations that my savings could last about 3 - 4 months, I was also having a small identity crisis. What would I do? Who was I? We were now in October and I knew first hand that companies stop hiring as Autumn and Winter hit.
My partner came and picked me up from my office and treated me to a quick dinner before suggesting a movie. I agreed as a way to get the pending doom off my mind and we decided to see Gravity, since it was the opening day and we both got a kick out of space flicks.
After loading up at the concession stand and taking our seats, I began to feel better. It was all going to be okay. I leaned over, thanked my partner and squeezed his hand and then felt my phone buzz.
I took it out of my pocket, mortified I would be disturbing other patrons, and saw a "415" number. It took me a moment to place it. San Francisco.
I whispered a quick apology to those in the row and nearly ran out of the theatre and up into the main lobby. I accepted the call on the way.
They offered me the job.
3 weeks later, I moved to San Francisco and began the best job of my life.
I got to work, doing what I love, Human Resources, for an effing VIDEO GAME COMPANY. I was assigned to Marketing and Data Analytics. I worked with some of the most brilliant and passionate people I have had the pleasure of meeting. I've met one of my best and closest friends there and am proud to be in his wedding party this August (corona-willing).
I left EA in 2017 and pursued new ventures and new opportunities when it was time to do so, but mostly because it was time to "come back home" to NYC. I often joke with them that if they ever move to New York, I will be pounding on the door asking for my job back.
So if you've read this far, I hope you can appreciate and take advantage of those rare moments when the whole world is lining things up for you, to give you exactly what you need, even though it doesn't look like it right away. Trust in it. It will work out!
Daniel Space
The HR Vault
(www.thehrvault.org)
Sales, Digital Media, Health/Rx focus
4 å¹´Nice storytelling, Daniel. For the record, given where I sat in CubeLand, I utilized the two bathrooms equally. I was envious of Ted Singer, who had his own key to a large one in the 'Get Smart' hallway.
Systems Administrator at WebMD
4 å¹´Daniel, what a great read and it really puts into perspective that we should not all be sheep. This came at a good time today. Hope all is well.