From Great Expectations to Sense & Sensibility: Career Advocacy with a Humanities Degree

There is a question every English major has heard a million times, one that most of us hate, that bruises our tender literary hearts:

“What are you going to do? Teach?”

I gave a talk recently to a room of English students and faculty at my undergraduate alma mater, SUNY Plattsburgh, and asked the audience if any of them had ever been confronted with that question. Nearly everyone raised a hand.

Now, this is not to say that there is anything wrong with being a teacher. Quite the contrary, education is a wonderful field filled with selfless, vastly underappreciated practitioners. If any among you want to take on this necessary and rewarding work, please go for it. But that question is loaded, and its effects can be detrimental to a budding career. It is a symptom of a greater issue: Everyone thinks English majors (or history majors, or philosophy majors — most of the humanities get thrown into the same pile of flawed expectations) are prepared exclusively for a career in teaching. After all, what can you really do with a B.A. in English other than teach people how to read and write?

The reality is that my fellow English majors build careers in all kinds of areas, ranging from business to communications to law. We are trained in some of the most valued skill sets on the job market, and yet we can’t seem to break down this systemic misunderstanding of our abilities. The English major has a PR problem, and our graduates are suffering for it.

The English major has a PR problem.

So as a former English major, and one who even went on to do something as frivolous as obtaining a graduate degree in writing, let me do my part to shift the dialogue. I will say this quite clearly: Humanities majors are great employees. True, we don’t have a clear career path set before us like the pre-med majors or the folks over in the accounting department — but that’s actually a good thing. We have options, and our skills are translatable in a way that the modern economy necessitates. Hiring managers, however, do not always understand our value. That means we need to be prepared to speak about our talents in a professional context. We need to advocate for our careers, and clarify our capabilities.

Hiring managers…do not always understand our value.

Not sure how to do that? You’re not alone. Career prep is rarely integrated among literature and writing courses. Here are a few talking points to get you started:

Writing

We’ll start with the obvious one. English majors can write. It’s kind of our forte. But why is it important to be a good writer?

Remember that time is money — and confusion is a time vampire. With that in mind, employees who can communicate with clarity are essential to any organization. You can say what needs to be said, and you don’t create chaos by provoking misunderstanding. Furthermore, English majors are experts at adapting their writing style for a specific audience or format. We can switch from persuasive, fact-based essays to lyrical prose in the time it takes to grab a coffee between classes. That sort of flexibility is important in the workplace, where you will need to communicate with everyone from coworkers to CEOs.

Reading Comprehension

Did you know that law schools love English majors? It’s true! And a lot of that love is due to our reading ability. We are well acquainted with late night novels, Shakespearean tomes, and loads of boring pages we never wanted to see in the first place. We can read a LOT, often quickly, and we can understand what we read in a way that makes it applicable on a larger scale. In a lot of ways, reading is the written word’s equivalent of listening — and everyone likes to work with a good listener.

Critical Thinking

All of those papers your professors assigned weren’t meant to torture you. Rather, they were a measurable way to assess your critical thinking skills. You need to be able to take in information and establish an opinion based on the material at hand. Then, you need to be able to express that opinion intelligently. In the classroom, that kind of higher-level thinking will get you an A. In the workplace, it will get you promoted.

Research

Remember cringing when you saw that research paper assignment on the syllabus? Email that professor now and thank her. The hours you spent in the library, scouring the shelves and Google-searching obscure topics, were some of the best preparation for entry-level work in a number of fields. Your boss will, at some point, need to collect a bunch of data and present it to the VIPs. But your boss probably won’t be the one collecting all of that fascinating info. That’s where you, at the assistant or associate level, will likely be knee-deep in the company database or locating competitive data online. You’ll have to find everything your boss needs to know, and you’ll often be asked to present it in a layman-friendly format. Perhaps you’ll even need to be persuasive. Sound familiar?

Empathy

Reading builds empathy, awareness, and diversity of thought. For many English majors, our first introductions to cultures beyond our own were in the pages of a good book. We traveled the world between two covers, heard snippets of other languages, saw a variety of family dynamics and relationships at all levels of functionality. We learned about sports we don’t play and music we don’t listen to. We experienced lives that were very different from what we would normally encounter. Office types call that cross-cultural competence, and it’s a big deal.

Criticism

English majors are all too familiar with the critical workshop setting. We have sat in a circle, seen our work handed around the room and desecrated by red ink, and we have quietly accepted comments from our peers and teachers. It’s hard. Very hard. And a lot of people are really, really bad at it. In fact, you’d be surprised at just how badly some professionals take criticism.

As an English major, you know that constructive feedback is not a personal attack, but an opportunity to gain insight into your work and improve future drafts. Corporate America has a similar ritual, called a performance review. It usually happens at least once a year, and your boss may tell you things about yourself you don’t want to hear. You need to respond calmly, with respect for a professional opinion that differs from your own, and with an ability to determine quality advice from bullying nonsense. It’s a talent in its own right, and English majors have a leg up in the process.

Conversely, we are usually better than most at delivering criticism. Having felt the harsh sting of someone disliking a project you’re passionate about, we tend to be tactful with our suggestions. The truth hurts, but English majors at least know when to carry a Band-Aid and some anti-septic spray. We’re also pretty good at metaphor.

So the next time someone asks, “What are you going to do? Teach?” you know what to do. Look them straight in the eye and speak with confidence: “I’m an English major. I can do anything.”

Write Like You Mean It: Communicating With Intention & Clarity

Most professionals, aside from journalists and a few others, don’t consider themselves “writers.” That word immediately conjures images of a bedraggled coffee addict, bent over a typewriter — certainly not in tune with the hectic pace we keep in our modern workplaces. But here’s the thing: We all write, usually every day. Communication is an integral part of every job, no matter the stage of your career. And a good portion of that communication comes in a written form.

What do we write?

Emails, presentations, memos, notes to colleagues, fliers, reports, letters of recommendation, social media updates, website copy, text messages, to-do lists. It’s endless. We write constantly, and for what?

Why do we write?

  • To provide & exchange information
  • To instruct
  • To establish relationships
  • To request assistance
  • To share ideas
  • To be understood

So how can we help others understand us? Communication is a two-way street, after all, and you can’t assume your audience will be able to read your mind if you don’t provide proper clues about the meaning of your message.

1. Grammar

It sounds obnoxious, I know. Another siren going off from the Grammar Police squad car. But I promise you, it matters.

Meme with three baby seals on a disco dance floor reads "Stop clubbing, baby seals. Once again, punctuation makes all the difference."

This is one of my favorite grammar memes of all time (and yes, I am absolutely nerdy enough to have a favorite grammar meme).

The point is, simple things like comma placement can affect your reader’s interpretation of your sentence. Here’s a more practical example.

Imagine you have a coworker, Tom, who sends you the following email:

“I’m going to eat my work study student’s back in five minutes.”

What is Tom trying to tell you? Does he mean, as his punctuation indicates, that he is going to eat his work study student, vertebra by vertebra, in just five minutes’ time? If so, you’d better intervene. Cannibalism is frowned upon in the higher education sector.

Or does he mean, hopefully, “I’m going to eat. My work study student’s back in five minutes.” So don’t worry, he’s not planning on leaving the desk unattended for long.

Or should we assume that his sentence is riddled not only with grammatical errors, but also typos, and he actually meant to say “I’m going to eat with my work study students. Back in five minutes.”

In short, Tom is making you work pretty hard to understand what he’s trying to say.

2. Organization

Imagine that our friend Tom’s next task is to create a flier for an event at the college where he works. This gets posted around the school:

“It’s going to be a ton of fun! Refreshments will be served, starting at 6:30. Panelists include Hillary Clinton, J.Lo & Stephen Hawking. Join the discussion about child pageantry’s impact on American economic growth on November 8, 2014. 5pm in the auditorium.”

What time will the students show up for this event? (Spoiler alert: Probably 6:30.) But what time does it actually start? …5pm. Oops. Tom should have lead with his main idea.

In my own writing, I often use the chart below to organize thoughts and keep my structure in line (I actually learned this trick from my 10th grade English teacher. Shoutout to Mrs. Danis!)

Diagram shows a square with an upside down triangle above it, funneling into the square. Below it, there is a rightside up triangle. Top triangle reads "Intro," start broad with a brief introduction; then, express the point of your message clearly and quickly. Square reads "Make your point and/or provide information," say waht you need to say. Provide the necessary information to back up any claims you're making. Support your message. Bottom triangle reads "Wrap-Up," restate the intention of your message. Relate your point to the broader picture again, if necessary.

You want to be sure to present your information, your message, in a logical progression. Be clear. Have a point. Get that point across to your reader.

Which brings me to…

3. Tone

Tone can be a tricky thing. We all know that it’s not just what you say, but how you say it, and sometimes it’s easy to misinterpret intentions. We’ll visit our buddy, Tom, again.

As a follow-up to the event mentioned on his less-than-ideal flier, Tom writes an email to his colleague, Alice:

“Where are the photos from Econ of Child Pageantry? Thanks.”

If you’re Alice, what are you thinking when you open this email? What kind of mood is Tom in? How is he making you feel? Does he respect you? Value your work? Even if he meant it perfectly innocently, and is simply requesting Alice’s assistance with the photographs, this is not a great way to go about it. In two sentences, Tom comes off as abrupt, dismissive, cold, and a little condescending. Adding “thanks” at the end hardly adds a warm, fuzzy feeling to the previous sentence.

For a better example, we’ll look at Alice’s response. As you can see, she follows the diagram from earlier: A brief introduction, followed by a clear message, and then a closing remark.

“Hi, Tom. The photos are all in the shared drive, in a folder labeled
“Horrible Mistakes — 11.08.14.” Let me know if you have trouble finding them, but they should all be there. Thanks for all your help with the event! I thought it went great!” — Alice

Feel the difference?

4. Keep it concise.

As a general rule, you should say whatever it is you have to say…and then stop. We’re all guilty of being a little wordy from time to time, but it only serves to bore your reader and bury your real message in a mess of lengthy text.

Try to cut sentences down as much as possible. Instead of saying “On account of financial difficulties, I believe it would be most prudent to re-evaluate our stance on budgetary expenditures,” put your red pen to work. In most cases, it’s both clearer and easier to say something like, “We should re-evaluate our spending in light of financial difficulties.” Make the red pen your friend.

5. Read what you write.

Wait a few seconds before hitting send on that email, or publishing that blog post. Read over your work with an eye for detail. It’s easier to fix mistakes now than to apologize for them later.

Things to Try:

  • Reading aloud
  • Putting your writing to the side & re-reading it later
  • Change the font & THEN read it.
  • Write. Wait 15 seconds. Hit send/post.

With a little extra effort, you’ll save yourself a lot of headaches.
Apply some of these strategies, and let me know in the comments if they helped improve your communication! Happy writing!

Bonus!
Some of my go-to writing resources: