I have a confession to make.
I do not like asking for help.
I believe this aversion was born from the hyper-competitive nature of my suburban-Maryland high school where asking for help from teachers meant you were a brown-noser or incompetent (or both), where the ‘do-it-yourself’ mindset was a code to live by, not a Pinterest board.
There is so much we can do on our own – bolster our LinkedIn accounts, finesse our cover letters, join job boards, send inquiring emails, reach out to our aunt’s friend of a friend who knows a guy. However, there are only so many things we can do by ourselves, and perhaps more importantly, there are only so many things we should do by ourselves.
Exhibit A: Recently my supervisor at CACS informed that she had arranged for a student to come to the office for an appointment with me to discuss some issues he’d been having with Zócalo, our career management system. I was thrilled that she thought highly enough of me to work one-on-one with the student and also nervous because I knew I still had a lot to learn about the system. Did I express this concern? No. The “DIY” mantra played on repeat in my head.
Sure enough, the student came in to see me and I had only a vague idea about how to solve his problem. After aimlessly clicking around the website for several minutes, resorting to a few “let’s see here” and too many “ums,” I felt thoroughly embarrassed and inept. Swallowing my pride, I approached my supervisor who could already see me flailing. She helped the student as best she could and I sheepishly approached her afterward, admitting I hadn’t actually known how to help him.
I wondered later, why didn’t I ask for help in the first place? If I’m honest with myself, I was afraid my boss might question my intelligence and my competency. I worried she might question why she hired me in the first place, question my work ethic, and my self-motivation (or lack thereof). I wanted to prove that she had chosen wisely in trusting me.
Fortunately my supervisor chose not to chastise me openly about my misstep. She could see clearly that I understood the mistake I had made. Instead she chose to help me help the student AND help me improve my own skills. Instead of asking me why I hadn’t told her in the first place, she suggested we have our own Zócalo training session the following day. The session clarified all of my questions and not only can I now solve that student’s problem, but I have begun using Zócalo more frequently for my own career search.
As I quickly discovered in the first few weeks I began working at CACS, the fine folks in this office are here to guide us, to point us toward valuable resources, and to connect us with highly respected people and unique opportunities in our fields of study. They are not here to talk down to us or to solve all our problems. They are committed to helping us help ourselves.
Perhaps another confession is in order:
After all these years, I’m finally finding the confidence to ask for help and I know I am better for it. Asking for help runs deeper than tweaking a resume or proof-reading a cover letter. It is about overcoming fears and anxieties about your own insecurities. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. It is not a sign of intellectual inferiority. It is a sign of knowing your strengths and limitations, of demonstrating your desire to learn.
So trust yourself. Reach out. You might be surprised to find who is ready and willing to help.
~Tillie Gottlieb, IEM ’16
CACS Graduate Assistant
tgottlieb@miis.edu