WSJ: CareerJournal: How a Layoff Led to Lattes and a Happy New Career
How a Layoff Led to Lattés And a Happy New Career
By Steve London
From The Wall Street Journal
I once was a newspaper reporter. I once managed corporate communications for a Fortune 200 company. I once was a human-
resources executive.
I now make lattés. And I am getting good at it.
At 53, I am one of thousands of baby boomers who have lost their jobs or derailed their careers for a variety of reasons, all too familiar.
Whether it's a merger or an acquisition, a lingering recession, a stock-market collapse or a corporate-accounting scandal -- or that
old stand-by, a late-in-life identity crisis -- the members of the boomer generation face a momentous question: "Do we want a job in the
corporate world, or is it time to drop out?"
If this all sounds familiar, it should, at least to anyone who spent his formative years in the 1960s. First, we weren't going to trust
anyone over 30. Then we turned 30. We weren't going to have faith in the establishment. Then we became the establishment. We certainly wouldn't trust the corporate world. And then we became part of it.
To be honest, I have tried to get back into the corporate world for the past 10 months. I have taken courses on resume writing, on
creating a personal marketing plan, on interviewing, negotiating and networking. But no luck, despite the best efforts of family, friends,
neighbors, friends of family, friends of friends, friends of neighbors, colleagues, outplacement professionals and corporate
recruiters.
So I lowered my sights and broadened my focus, changed my perspective and adjusted my attitude. I ran through every cliche. I was eager for the opportunity to interview for any corporate job, even if it was not as tony as my former position.
I did that until my wife, a professional hiring consultant (really) who spent 25 years as a marketing manager at AT&T, asked: "Why?"
I paused to ponder this. "Why don't you do something that you would really like to do?" she said. "We're lucky. We don't have college
expenses any longer. I will work retail part-time and you could find something fun. Besides, what happens the next time? The economy isn't getting better, and the market isn't going to improve soon. Find something you like and do it well."
How can you argue with reasoning like that, especially when the job offers aren't exactly flooding in? And yet it wasn't an easy path to
pursue. Such a prospect forces an uncomfortable confrontation with all those little demons that patrol the lines between our sense of
self-worth and our sense of well-being. Is dropping out of the corporate world really just giving up and admitting that you've lost?
Does checking out mean that you didn't belong there in the first place, or worse, that you're a quitter? Or does it matter at all?
More pressing than such metaphysical questions was a practical one: How was I to pick a new career? I decided that I would try to find a job at a growing company with good people who enjoyed their work and served customers. And it just so happens that I really like coffee. We have two coffee machines at home -- a kind of apprenticeship, I suppose. And then there is the genetic angle: My daughter was a student manager at the Buzz -- a coffee shop at the University of Oregon.
So I applied for a job at the Caribou Coffee shop in my neighborhood. I went through not one but two interviews -- one with a regional
manager. (Maybe they couldn't believe that a guy my age was serious.) I got a job that came with a 19-year-old to teach me how to steam and froth milk and "pull shots" so that I can make a latte, mocha, cappuccino or americano. I have received instruction on Mint
Conditions, Turtle Mochas, Caramel High Rises, Lite White Berrys and Hot Apple Blasts. Believe me, these are not simple matters,
especially for someone of a different age and different world.
It was clear after only two weeks that I would really like this job. My store manager and her staff have been great teachers. One of my
friends remarked, after seeing me make drinks, that I reminded her of Tom Cruise in "Cocktail." I don't think so. I'm learning that great service is provided one customer at a time -- another cliche, but true. When asked, I recommend coffees or teas
according to whatever taste-guidance a customer can give me, and I try to remember what the regulars like so I can begin working on
their drinks as they walk through the door. In return, I am meeting "real" people who provide me with a different view of society
from the one I got through my 29th-floor office window.
Now I see the harried business mother who left the office to take her daughter to the orthodontist. As a treat, the middle-schooler gets
a "white hot chocolate" while her mother makes a few quick calls on her cell phone and rushes back to work.
I see the executive in his Armani suit obviously feeling grateful when a stranger gives him a dime so he can pay for his coffee: He has
forgotten to stop at the ATM. And on a cold winter evening I see a woman lingering by our fireplace, sipping her mocha and reading a
mystery novel. I feel a twinge of regret when I have to disturb her at closing time.
Then, on weekends, the kids storm in from the nearby theater for their "coolers" and "smoothies." I remember doing the same thing
nearly 40 years ago, only it was cherry Cokes at the local deli. The other day I served a student studying macroeconomics and flashed
back to my econ class. I got through the course knowing three simple words: "supply and demand." I suppose I am now standing at a critical point between the two.
The other day I sold a "Joe to Go" coffee container for a meeting between a manager and her staff. I seem to recall from my corporate
days that the coffee often turned out to be the best part of such meetings.
Without wishing to seem self-centered, I can't help wondering whether I am at the cutting edge of a Major Trend. As I walk through malls and along retail streets, I am struck by the number of men and women in their 50s who are smiling as they help customers. I know that I have seen many people like them before without their smiles -- at business lunches downtown.
It's possible that I'll get back into the corporate world some day. But for now, when friends and neighbors ask what I do, I smile and
say: "I make lattes. And I am getting good at it."
-- Mr. London lives in Plymouth, Minn.
How a Layoff Led to Lattés And a Happy New Career
By Steve London
From The Wall Street Journal
I once was a newspaper reporter. I once managed corporate communications for a Fortune 200 company. I once was a human-
resources executive.
I now make lattés. And I am getting good at it.
At 53, I am one of thousands of baby boomers who have lost their jobs or derailed their careers for a variety of reasons, all too familiar.
Whether it's a merger or an acquisition, a lingering recession, a stock-market collapse or a corporate-accounting scandal -- or that
old stand-by, a late-in-life identity crisis -- the members of the boomer generation face a momentous question: "Do we want a job in the
corporate world, or is it time to drop out?"
If this all sounds familiar, it should, at least to anyone who spent his formative years in the 1960s. First, we weren't going to trust
anyone over 30. Then we turned 30. We weren't going to have faith in the establishment. Then we became the establishment. We certainly wouldn't trust the corporate world. And then we became part of it.
To be honest, I have tried to get back into the corporate world for the past 10 months. I have taken courses on resume writing, on
creating a personal marketing plan, on interviewing, negotiating and networking. But no luck, despite the best efforts of family, friends,
neighbors, friends of family, friends of friends, friends of neighbors, colleagues, outplacement professionals and corporate
recruiters.
So I lowered my sights and broadened my focus, changed my perspective and adjusted my attitude. I ran through every cliche. I was eager for the opportunity to interview for any corporate job, even if it was not as tony as my former position.
I did that until my wife, a professional hiring consultant (really) who spent 25 years as a marketing manager at AT&T, asked: "Why?"
I paused to ponder this. "Why don't you do something that you would really like to do?" she said. "We're lucky. We don't have college
expenses any longer. I will work retail part-time and you could find something fun. Besides, what happens the next time? The economy isn't getting better, and the market isn't going to improve soon. Find something you like and do it well."
How can you argue with reasoning like that, especially when the job offers aren't exactly flooding in? And yet it wasn't an easy path to
pursue. Such a prospect forces an uncomfortable confrontation with all those little demons that patrol the lines between our sense of
self-worth and our sense of well-being. Is dropping out of the corporate world really just giving up and admitting that you've lost?
Does checking out mean that you didn't belong there in the first place, or worse, that you're a quitter? Or does it matter at all?
More pressing than such metaphysical questions was a practical one: How was I to pick a new career? I decided that I would try to find a job at a growing company with good people who enjoyed their work and served customers. And it just so happens that I really like coffee. We have two coffee machines at home -- a kind of apprenticeship, I suppose. And then there is the genetic angle: My daughter was a student manager at the Buzz -- a coffee shop at the University of Oregon.
So I applied for a job at the Caribou Coffee shop in my neighborhood. I went through not one but two interviews -- one with a regional
manager. (Maybe they couldn't believe that a guy my age was serious.) I got a job that came with a 19-year-old to teach me how to steam and froth milk and "pull shots" so that I can make a latte, mocha, cappuccino or americano. I have received instruction on Mint
Conditions, Turtle Mochas, Caramel High Rises, Lite White Berrys and Hot Apple Blasts. Believe me, these are not simple matters,
especially for someone of a different age and different world.
It was clear after only two weeks that I would really like this job. My store manager and her staff have been great teachers. One of my
friends remarked, after seeing me make drinks, that I reminded her of Tom Cruise in "Cocktail." I don't think so. I'm learning that great service is provided one customer at a time -- another cliche, but true. When asked, I recommend coffees or teas
according to whatever taste-guidance a customer can give me, and I try to remember what the regulars like so I can begin working on
their drinks as they walk through the door. In return, I am meeting "real" people who provide me with a different view of society
from the one I got through my 29th-floor office window.
Now I see the harried business mother who left the office to take her daughter to the orthodontist. As a treat, the middle-schooler gets
a "white hot chocolate" while her mother makes a few quick calls on her cell phone and rushes back to work.
I see the executive in his Armani suit obviously feeling grateful when a stranger gives him a dime so he can pay for his coffee: He has
forgotten to stop at the ATM. And on a cold winter evening I see a woman lingering by our fireplace, sipping her mocha and reading a
mystery novel. I feel a twinge of regret when I have to disturb her at closing time.
Then, on weekends, the kids storm in from the nearby theater for their "coolers" and "smoothies." I remember doing the same thing
nearly 40 years ago, only it was cherry Cokes at the local deli. The other day I served a student studying macroeconomics and flashed
back to my econ class. I got through the course knowing three simple words: "supply and demand." I suppose I am now standing at a critical point between the two.
The other day I sold a "Joe to Go" coffee container for a meeting between a manager and her staff. I seem to recall from my corporate
days that the coffee often turned out to be the best part of such meetings.
Without wishing to seem self-centered, I can't help wondering whether I am at the cutting edge of a Major Trend. As I walk through malls and along retail streets, I am struck by the number of men and women in their 50s who are smiling as they help customers. I know that I have seen many people like them before without their smiles -- at business lunches downtown.
It's possible that I'll get back into the corporate world some day. But for now, when friends and neighbors ask what I do, I smile and
say: "I make lattes. And I am getting good at it."
-- Mr. London lives in Plymouth, Minn.
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