February 29, 2008 9:25
TGIF book review: How not to look old at work
I don't do book reviews because I don't read books. This has not stopped the publicity department of every major publisher from continuing to send me workplace, business and management–related books. I collect them in a bin, and when the bin fills up, I drag it down the hall to the dump (not really: all over the TIME offices, there are shelves and tables where others can indulge in their desire to read Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity).
It pains me, a lifelong bookworm, to say this, but as a perennially time-strapped working mother, I must confess: these days, I read when I have to, which is to research articles. The most recent book I read was Why Women Should Rule the World, by Dee Dee Myers. (Look for my Q&A and podcasted interview with the former White House press secretary today on Time.com, or come back here and I'll link.) Before that, I read How Not to Look Old, by Charla Krupp.
From which book did I learn more? Hmm. You know what? It's a toss-up.
How Not to Look Old has a lavender cover, is slightly oversized like a magazine, and features a blown-up image of the author on the cover. The author, Charla Krupp, is the wife of one of TIME's longtime editors, Richard Zoglin. She worked for a time in the building, and has made her way around many New York–based magazines as a well-regarded beauty editor. She has appeared over 100 times on the Today show. She is petite, blonde and obnoxiously gorgeous. Her book is on the New York Times Book Review's Top 10 list for how-to and advice. Though she wrote a book about aging, she adamantly refuses to reveal her own age.
I hate her already, right?
Charla Krupp knows how not to look old.
But when my colleague Andrea Sachs pushed for a magazine article on the phenomenal success of the book (read Andrea's fun Time.com Q&A here), our editor Jan Simpson asked me to weigh in. I said perhaps we could do something fun on how baby boomers are flocking to buy anti-aging treatments in order to look hip and happenin' at the office. I even suggested an eye-candy layout: two head-to-toe images of 50-ish folks, with arrows pointing to various treatments they may or may not try (butt lifts for men! hair plugs for women! and who can't use a little jowl tuck?).
That's how I came to read Krupp's book. And you know what? It was good. It was really good. The tone is lively; the photos are delicious (come on; no one doesn't like a before-after makeover); the advice sane, actionable and apparently well-researched. I didn't find Krupp condescending or overly chipper, two beefs I have with many women's magazines nowadays.
Why should you be reading about this on a workplace blog? Here's the thing: the main reason many Americans want to avoid looking old is because they work. According to the AARP, 79% of boomers plan to work into their retirement years. That's because so few of them have saved anything remotely close to enough to fund their golden years—but in no small part too because boomers don't really think they're all that old, and they want to keep doing what they do.
It's one thing to feel young. It's another to look it. Once upon a time, one was allowed to grow old gracefully in the relative privacy of retirement. But today, you've got to do it in full view of all your colleagues, clients and bosses.
Who said you have to have collagen to pull off an excellent growth-analysis report? No one, of course. But when you're surrounded by pert young things in the office, a lot of people may become more conscious of their saggy butts and spotted hands.
There's been some backlash. Critics have charged Krupp with fueling widespread nervousness among boomers about how a few stray grays might affect their professional and financial viability. In an article about the book in the New York Times titled "Nice Resumé. Have You Tried Botox?" Natasha Singer writes:
Many people would shun a book if it were titled “How Not to Look Jewish” or “How Not to Look Gay” because to cater to discrimination is to capitulate to it. But the success of “How Not to Look Old” indicates that popular culture is willing to buy into ageism as an acceptable form of prejudice, even against oneself.
I don't agree with the book's wholesale write-down of the beauty of age. For instance, I'm firmly on the side of the no-hair-dye faction (an argument the author Anne Kreamer made most persuasively and eloquently in this TIME article and also in her book, Going Gray). My own mom started going gray in her late 50s, and she keeps her silver-black hair stylishly short. Besides, I just can't be bothered with the hassle and expense of regular treatments. In my region, the cheapest of salon coloring easily costs $100. That's $1,200 a year I'd rather put in my Roth IRA, or blow on a flight to Hong Kong.
I also object strenuously to Krupp's refusal to reveal her age. That's just weird. How are women supposed to be taken seriously in the workplace if we get all coy and old-fashioned about a simple biographical statistic? For the record: I'm 36, and soon I'll be 37. If that admission torpedoes my ambition to compete on American Idol, then the public will simply have to live without my Carly Simon stylings. See who's so vain now.
But then I read Krupp's endorsement of bangs. Try it, she writes; it'll take years off your face. I picked up a pair of scissors, and snip, snip, snip—I was a beauty-book sheep. Did it work? I don't know. But I felt I had taken control of my appearance, for no cost and with little effort. Maybe it gave me a little more confidence at the office, where of late all people can comment on is my expanding belly.
How Not to Look Old was worth my time. Now, back to Madeline's Rescue.
February 28, 2008 9:30
Does Obama have an Asian problem? We're still debating
Last week, I penned an article for Time.com titled, "Does Obama Have an Asian Problem?" The story predicted the senator from Illinois would handily win Hawaii's primaries, which were to occur later that day. He did. But it also sought to explore why other states with large Asian populations saw their Asian votes go overwhelmingly to his rival, Hillary Clinton. We asked the very touchy, even ugly question: Could it have to do with race?
Here's how the story came about. The week prior, I'd posted here on WiP about a CNN report I'd just seen. The report, by Gary Tuchman, purported to explore why Asians were voting for Hillary—and in the end insinuated that it had to do with Asians' racism, without coming right out and saying so (see the clip on my original post).
Some of you wrote to say you too found the CNN report patently offensive. Others of you found my post's title patently offensive. But a few wrote to say, Well, hold on a minute here; my old Chinese uncle says he won't vote for Obama because he's black.
That got me to thinking. This deserved some actual reporting. So I called up experts, scholars, ethnic-media journalists, pollsters and ordinary voters. My conclusion was that plenty of Asians are voting for Obama, for reasons they articulated clearly: his vision, his passion, his mantra of change. And plenty of Asians are voting for Clinton, for equally well-argued reasons: her experience, her resolve, her ability to get things done. I bet more than a few will wind up casting for McCain. But for some Asians—just as for some Caucasians, some Hispanics, and some blacks—race does indeed play a role in their vote.
For a very good and nuanced TV analysis of the same subject, see CeFaan Kim's recent report on NY1. In it, one expert explains the possible reasons behind Clinton's overwhelming Asian support: skewed exit-poll results.
"The Asian-American community is bipolar, particularly the Chinese-American community," said Peter Kwong, a professor of Asian American Studies at Hunter College. "You have the very wealthy, what I call the Uptown Chinese; professional, educated, English-speaking. They don't live in Chinatown. They live all across the suburbs. And then you have working class, non-English-speaking new immigrants. They tend to live in concentrated neighborhoods. So, a lot of surveys are done in those concentrated neighborhoods, so therefore the sample reflects working-class backgrounds."
Fascinating. Here, too, is a letter from two readers who objected to my Time.com story. We don't yet have a way for readers to comment on stories elsewhere on the site, so I asked them if I could post it here.
The media's portrayal of the Asian Pacific Islander American (APIA) voter, specifically the APIA's view of Barack Obama, has been minimal and oftentimes skewed and inaccurate. Lisa Takeuchi Cullen's article on the Asian-American voter perpetuates the notion that APIA's are apathetic, uninformed, disengaged and insignificant in the political process. She deeply offended Asian Americans by implying that Asian Americans do not choose their candidates as thoughtfully as other minority groups do.
The article cited APIA voters as the least likely to vote. However, it failed to indicate that when APIA's are registered to vote, they actually become the most likely to vote. According to APIA Vote, a non-profit, non-partisan organization that focuses on raising civic participation in the APIA community, 3.7 million APIA's out of approximately 6.7 million eligible voters were registered to vote. 3 million of those registered voters actually voted in the presidential general election in 2004! Cullen's article stated that APIA's "may not have the numbers to sway the nomination in one way or another," but in 2004 the APIA voting population was greater than the difference that captured the electoral votes in seven states!The APIA community is a unique, diverse community, but we are not too different from the rest of the American population in choosing elected officials. We want what's best for our families. We want elected officials who listen to our needs. APIA's are participating in the political process now more than ever. Like other Americans, APIA's make their decisions on who to vote for based on who can best represent their needs, regardless of race, gender, religion. For many APIA's that choice is Barack Obama.
Since its inception one year ago, the Barack Obama presidential campaign has focused on "Change We Can Believe In," and a "Yes We Can" attitude that encompasses all segments of the American population-including the APIA community.
Melissa Montenegro-Tri-Cities, WA
Celia Wu-Seattle, WA
More comments? Post 'em below.
February 27, 2008 9:38
Help—my boss is too nice
So I had an evaluation the other day. My supervising editor, Bill, came in and we had a nice chat. I outlined my goals and described the obstacles I foresaw. For his part, he told me how he thought I could overcome those obstacles, and informed me of qualities management values. Overall I thought it was a useful exercise that left me more hopeful about my prospects at this workplace.
My boss is nice. But not too nice. And I'm not just saying that because I blog on a company site that he or his colleagues might bother to read. Believe me, I've had bosses of all textures: noodley, prickly, electric, tough as hide. Out of that batch, the noodle is by far the worst.
Jared Sandberg of the Wall Street Journal tackles this topic this week in an article titled, "Avoiding Conflicts, The Too-Nice Boss Makes Matters Worse." He writes:
The bad manager tends to conjure images of the blood-vessel-bursting screamer looking for a handle to fly off. But these types are increasingly rare. Far more common, and more insidious, are the managers who won't say a critical word to the staffers who need to hear it. In avoiding an unpleasant conversation, they allow something worse to ferment in the delay. They achieve kindness in the short term but heartlessness in the long run, dooming the problem employee to nonimprovement. You can't fix what you can't say is broken.
The thing is, I think Sandberg himself is being too kind by attributing managers' behavior to kindness. When bosses don't tell employees what they need to hear, I think it's more to do with
a) lack of a spine;
b) desire to put off unpleasant tasks;
c) prioritizing other business goals over staff management;
d) passing the buck (if I don't deal with my crappy employee, someone else surely will).
And that's none too nice.
As the WSJ continues,
Bosses who want to avoid any discomfort, "use generalities so people really don't know what they're talking about," says Laura Collins, an HR consultant. Instead, they tend toward one-size-fits-all comments: "pay a little more attention to detail" and "improve the way you communicate" and "develop better organization skills."
Here's how that manifests:
Those were the ones Ryan Broderick, formerly an assistant account executive in advertising, heard from a boss. The substanceless nature of his feedback stuck him with one of the worst performance-related torments: Being left to your own imagination. "Hearing nothing is worse than hearing something," he said.
Before new management stepped in, that vacuum of information pervaded my own workplace. I attribute it in large part to c), or prioritizing the publication of a weekly news magazine over thorough management of its people. It's not a priority I don't understand; after all, if our product fails, there will be nothing and no one to manage, period. But good products don't just happen. The people who produce it must be engaged and well used. What's the point of having a staff if we're not performing?
Shortly before he left, my old boss told me of mistakes I'd made early on in my employment. My boss had remembered those mistakes, and years later they still colored his opinion of me. I had always had the sense he didn't think the moon of me, and now that he was about to go, I knew why. I was aghast. Why hadn't he said anything? Didn't he think I wanted to improve? Why keep me on payroll if he thought I stank? What good did that serve anyone?
I'm not saying it's easy to be boss. The power, the respect, the boffo paychecks come with the p&l accountability, the hiring and firing, the hour-to-hour decision-making. But help us help you. We want to perform; we want our product to succeed. Tell us we suck at writing captions, that our cubicles smell like cheese, that it annoys the hell out of everyone when we dominate story meetings with dull-as-dirt pitches. We need to know.
February 26, 2008 2:03
Elections? Equal opportunity. Workplace? Not so much.
When I consider the narrowed field of Democratic presidential candidates, I don't think that much about them in terms of race or gender. That, to me, is a huge development. Sure, those factors will loom in our final choice. But it's not everything. And that shows how far we've come.
You'd think that if we're considering a black man and a white woman for the nation's highest office, we're concurrently seeing more equality in our nation's offices. Nope, says this report on WSJ.com about the Bureau of Labor Statistics latest numbers.
In fact, progress for women and minorities in both pay and power has stalled or regressed at many of the U.S.'s biggest companies. This inequality shapes perceptions about who can or should be a leader.
How so?
More than 40 years after job discrimination was outlawed in the U.S., the wage gap between white men and just about everyone else persists. The one exception is Asian-American men, whose median wages were just 1% less than those of white men who worked full-time, year round, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics survey in 2005, the latest year for which this data are available.
Specifically,
Black men, by contrast, earned 74% of the wages of white males; Hispanic men earned 58%.
As for gender,
Women, overall, are substantially lagging behind men in pay. Fulltime female employees earned 77% of all men's median wages. Breaking it down in terms of race, Asian-American women earned 78% of the median annual pay of white men; white women earned 73%; black women, 63%; and Hispanic women, 52%.
Why do white men continue to outearn everyone else? I think it has to do with some ingrained stereotypes. Dee Dee Myers was just on NPR flogging her new book, Why Women Should Rule the World. She told of being selected as the nation's first female press secretary under Bill Clinton—a huge get, of course, and one that elated her...until she found out she was earning less, had less authority and would get a smaller office than her predecessor. Another time, she learned she made less than a male colleague who held fewer responsibilities. When she confronted her supervisor, she was told, well, yes, but the man left a higher-paying job to come here, and plus he had a family.
Whatwhatwhat?
Getting a person of color or a woman into the Oval Office is a start. But we've clearly got a lot of work to do.
February 26, 2008 9:21
The day classical music mattered
Classical music matters in my household. That's because my husband, Chris, makes his living in that field, as a professional clarinet player.
Before I met Chris, I could not tell a French horn from a flugel horn, Mendelssohn from Mozart, Menuhin from Midori. Okay, I still can't (but aren't you impressed that I can spell them?). Like most Americans my age, I knew diddly squat about classical music. Orchestral music played no role in my life; opera had no meaning; "wind instrument" meant something else entirely.
I did not set out to marry a musician, and I certainly didn't expect to meet one through work. Journalists often marry other journalists; musicians, for that matter, usually intermarry too. That's because our work tends to be so all-consuming that we don't get out of the office (or out of the practice room, as it were). When I went out, it was usually with my work buddies, which in my first job were my fellow reporters at Adweek.
Chris was the best friend of my Adweek colleague Mark. One day, Mark invited the lot of us to his apartment for a party. Mark's roommate was a med student. The party was packed with soon-to-be doctors. And who do I meet? Uh huh.
As fascinating as I'm sure medicine can be, I'd wager that music makes for more pleasant dinner conversation (certainly with less potential for gore). Names like Mahler and and Schoenberg and Britten often come up. The other night, Chris came home excited after playing a chamber music concert including compositions by Ned Rorem—and Ned Rorem had shown up. I was excited that I knew who Ned Rorem was.
Today, though, classical music matters in households across the country, even, perhaps, the world. People everywhere are talking about the New York Philharmonic's historic trip to North Korea. The orchestra played a concert there last night, and were met with a standing ovation that would not end. (Our Bill Powell was there; read his account on Time.com.) In hearing and reading reports of the event, I was most moved by accounts of musicians standing backstage and weeping with emotion.
Chris often talks about this: orchestral musicians, perhaps more than any other kind, display little emotional connection to their work. This never made sense to me. After all, they don't even call it work. You don't work music; you play. Chris gets to play for a living. How could they not enjoy it? Of course, I understand why: the intense pressure of performance; the requisite concentration; the desire not to attract the attention of the conductor—none of this is fun. There isn't the raw connection to the music or to the audience that, say, a rocker in a band might experience. Also, the outfits aren't as cool.
That's not to say classical musicians don't derive satisfaction from their work, or feel a keen sense of pride in what they do. It's just that it's not often visible in the stony faces of the tuxedo-clad instrumentalists up there on the distant stage.
So to think of a symphony—the long-toothed members of the New York Phil, no less—crying at the experience of playing for an unusual audience—the thought of this moved me to tears, too.
News reports and analysts are talking and writing today of how this historic concert will affect bilateral relations between two hostile countries. But what about its effect on the relationship between the public and classical music? Have you listened to Dvořák's New World Symphony lately? How about the opening clarinet lick of Gershwin's American in Paris? (I wouldn't recommend that latter, live, in your living room, 50 times in a row, if you cherish your hearing.)
Tonight at 8 p.m. Eastern time, WNYC is broadcasting the concert. Do tune in. I'm going to. Meantime, here's Christiane Amanpour's report on CNN about the visit.
February 25, 2008 1:32
When to disclose illness at work
Last week, my "mom" Marlene Kahan sent me a link to Lisa Belkin's article in The New York Times: "I'm Ill, But Who Really Needs to Know?"
At first I thought it was an FYI forward; Marlene and I share many things, among them duels with our respective chronic illnesses that have deeply affected how we live and work. The article begins,
ONE of the first decisions you make in the emotional hours after a scary diagnosis is whether to tell others. Most of us share the news with our loved ones, but what of the circles beyond, particularly those at work? Your boss?
So true, so true. I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis at age 21, shortly after I was hired at Ladies' Home Journal. It wasn't working out. I thought I had been hired as an assistant editor; it even said so on my offer letter. I had left a job I loved, as a reporter at Adweek, a wonderful if absolutely kooky place to start a career in journalism.
But it was dawning on me that I was in fact being groomed to become a copy editor. For those of you not in the biz, copy editing is a very specific line of work requiring a highly exacting set of skills including precision and patience. Copy editing was not for me. Copy editing hated me.
As my boss realized my lack of talent and I realized the enormity of my mistake, my stress level amped up—as did my stress-related illness. That job came crashing to an end in a tearful meeting with my boss (I cried, she didn't) in which I revealed my recent diagnosis. It was the first time she expressed any sympathy toward me. Of course, I was leaving, so it didn't behoove me much. But I was glad to leave her with a reason for my complete incompetence other than my complete incompetence.
Since then, my illness has accompanied me like a fugly paper weight to four more workplaces. As is often the case with chronic disease, the symptoms come and go—in my case, tied undeniably to work-related stress. In 2000, it forced me into a horrific bout of steroids. In 2006, it landed me in the hospital.
How much do I tell my bosses? I tend to tell when and if I need to, which is when things get really bad, which, thank Buddha, is rare. My bosses have been incredibly supportive, considering the demanding and competitive nature of my work.
Marlene handled things differently. Just to paint a picture, she's this model-tall, impeccably dressed, gorgeous woman. (I met her 15 years ago when I was selected for a magazine internship she ran; she soon became my mentor and my New York mom.) She holds a position of influence and importance in my industry. Her condition, too, is exacerbated by stress, which is one thing she can't avoid in her job. She had a lot at stake. But when she was diagnosed with Parkinson's, she decided she had to let her bosses know.
Belkin quoted her in her Times article:
Marlene Kahan, in turn, disclosed her condition right away. Four years ago, when she learned she had Parkinson’s disease, she had been the executive director of the American Society of Magazine Editors for more than a decade. With that longevity came security, she hoped.
Ms. Kahan was also afraid that the mix of symptoms and side effects from the treatments would leave her at “less than 100 percent,” she said, making it seem as if she was either slacking or even sicker than she was. “I didn’t want people to wonder and jump to other conclusions,” she said.
The point is that there's a sort of job security in disclosure. Writes Belkin:
The Americans with Disabilities Act prohibits an employer from dismissing or failing to hire a chronically-ill employee on the basis of that disability “if they are able to do the job with reasonable accommodation,” she said. But in many cases, “reasonable” and “able” and even “job” all become open to interpretation, said Ms. Backstrom, the author of “I’d Rather Be Working” (Amacom, 2002).
Belkin recommends employees with disabilities check out the Department of Labor's Job Accommodation Network. This page explains who is protected by the Americans With Disabilities Act and what "reasonable accommodation" means, among other things.
I don't think there's one right way to deal with disclosing illness at work. You do what works for you and for your workplace. Some bosses are motivated to keep and accommodate you, valuing your contribution above the inconvenience. Other employers can't be bothered. We workers have some rights, but it's important to know that they're not absolute. Disclosing illness at work is still a risk.
...but maybe one worth taking. Shortly after she was diagnosed, Marlene began raising money and awareness for her cause. She's raised $145,000 in three years for the Parkinson's Unity Walk, an annual fundraiser in New York City. She got friends in the magazine biz to run public-service ads raising awareness. She inspired a friend to design a bracelet, part of whose proceeds will go toward her cause.
Marlene once told me that we can't help what hand we're dealt, but we can control how we play it. (She's not a gambler; I'm not sure why I remember her using that analogy.) By using her professional ties and acumen to do something, not just for herself but for all her fellow patients, she's willing her hand into a flush.
February 25, 2008 9:35
The best jobs for 2008
There's a lot of anxiety these days about job security. Maybe it's the oncoming recession. Maybe it's the presidential campaigns, which keep telling us we're anxious about job security. Maybe it's the job evaluation I'm having later today (for a workplace that shunned evaluations for years, suddenly we're up to one a quarter). Whatever it is, more of us are feeling uneasy these days. The AP says:
"The economy is currently in recession or arguably close to recession and that's certainly weighing on the collective psyche," says Mark Zandi, chief economist of forecaster Moody's Economy.com. "But ... I do think there is an increasing level of angst that is more fundamental and is not going to go away even when the economy improves."
Which leads me to wonder: for someone entering the workforce—or for the many of us who may be reevaluating our careers—just what are the best jobs out there today?
This article from Portfolio.com via MSNBC.com has some answers. There's good news for some:
Of the ten categories into which the Bureau of Labor Statistics divides jobs, the "professional" and "service" categories — already the two largest in the economy — will boast the most job openings in 2008.
In the next decade, 17% more employees will be employed in in the professional or service sectors than are today, nearly double the expansion of other categories.
What jobs in particular?
With an increase in demand, professional and service jobs, which include professions like educator, scientist, health care worker and artist in the "professional" category, and police officer, child caretaker and cosmetologist in the "service" category, will also add roughly a million new jobs to the economy.
On the flip side, here are the careers not to head into in 2008.
By comparison, other categories such as construction, sales and administration, are predicted to grow by only 10 percent; all eight other occupational groups combined will add only about half a million jobs to the economy in 2008. ... If you're job searching in certain occupational groups — namely farming, production, or transportation — you're looking at slow or negative growth and poor job availability.
The four job categories with the most aggressive growth rates:
1. Computer/mathematical
2. Community/social service
3. Health practices
4. Education/library
So, want work? Become a teacher. But first, read Claudia Wallis's excellent article in TIME about how American schools are trying to identify and reward great teachers. The pay sucks, there's little respect, and the stress is through the roof—but you may have a shot at a small bonus.
February 21, 2008 2:24
Death of the American foreign correspondent
Who wants to graduate from J-school, toss some things in a suitcase and set off for a career covering the far reaches of the earth? Who would eschew the comforts of a desk in a midsize American city for the mountain trails of Viet Nam, the opium dens of Egypt, the crowded factories of China? Who wants to conduct interviews in another language, knock back brew with the locals, learn the yuan-to-dollar conversion by heart?
No one, turns out. At least, no Americans.
A piece in the Washington Post this weekend by Pamela Constable notes:
Between 2002 and 2006, the number of foreign-based newspaper correspondents shrank from 188 to 141 (excluding the Wall Street Journal, which publishes Asian and European editions). The Baltimore Sun, which had correspondents from Mexico to Beijing when I went to work there in 1978, now has none. Newsday, which once had half a dozen foreign bureaus, is about to shut down its last one, in Pakistan. Only four U.S. papers -- the Journal, the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times and The Washington Post -- still keep a stable of foreign correspondents.
(A correction posted online reads: "The article should have included the Chicago Tribune, the Christian Science Monitor, USA Today and McClatchy newspapers among those still maintaining foreign bureaus.")
Constable laments this turn of affairs, not just for the loss to American readers but to American journalists' careers.
As a young reporter, I devoured the work of famous foreign correspondents and yearned to follow in their footsteps as they chronicled human travails and endeavors: the flight into exile, the search for work, the upheaval of war, the pilgrimage of faith. Joe Lelyveld, accompanying black workers on their daily bus commute into a South African city. Michael Herr, following a psychedelic trail of tears through the jungles of Vietnam. Freya Stark in the 1930s, following the great frankincense road: "On its stream of padding feet the riches of Asia travelled; along its slow continuous thread the Arabian empires rose and fell." Some may call this highbrow tourism, but I agree with the late Polish correspondent Ryszard Kapuscinski: There is something more valuable and more enduring than facts.
Matt Rees, a former Jerusalem correspondent for TIME, tells Marketwatch's Jon Friedman that the resulting quality of reportage turns readers and viewers off.
Despite the big commitment to Iraq, Rees contends that the questionable quality of some reporting contributed to Americans' disillusionment with the coverage. "It was clearly news, but we don't do anything interesting," Rees said. "The public gets to a point where people say, 'I'm sick of watching the coverage of Iraq. I know I'm not getting the real story.'"
But that's only part of the story. As my colleague Bobby Ghosh pointed out in a speech to Asian employees at Time Inc. recently, the remaining foreign correspdents for U.S. media outlets are, for the most part, not American. He told of being asked to join a panel before U.S. military brass while he was Baghdad bureau chief. The brass folded their arms over their chests and asked the assembled journalists how they could consider their coverage "patriotic." The panel looked at each other. None of them—distinguished journalists from the New York Times, ABC and TIME—were American. Not a one.
It's not just that American news organizations are cutting back on their overseas bureaus. It's that American journalists don't want to go abroad.
Hemingway would weep. Bobby wouldn't. He doesn't think it's a bad thing, this trend toward foreign coverage being conducted by foreigners. "We are international," shrugs Bobby, who's Indian. "We have a different way of seeing things. We're comfortable overseas."
Me, I'm of two minds. I too was once a foreign correspondent for a U.S. media outlet covering my home country. (I hold both U.S. and Japanese passports, and I was raised in Japan.) As a native, I brought unique skills to that job: cultural fluency, linguistic fluency, even a native appearance (for Bobby, that proved a far greater boon, as his looks allowed him to navigate Baghdad when no white journalist would find it safe). But I've worked with enough all-American foreign correspondents to know that they bring special skills, too—say, the ability to see a country with totally fresh eyes. I may not find the all-female trains in Tokyo new or interesting. An American might—as might his audience back home.
So I'm hoping the recent obituaries for the American foreign correspondent are somewhat exaggerated. I'm hoping some young bucks are growing up in Omaha or Orlando and dreaming of reporting in Oman or Okinawa. I'm hoping Hemingway lives.
February 21, 2008 9:31
I am so losing my office Oscar pool
There was an Oscar pool stuck under my office door this morning. It reminded me once again that I have no life.
I have seen none of these movies. None.
I have not seen Atonement. Or Juno, Michael Clayton, No Country for Old Men, There Will Be Blood.
It's not that these films don't appeal to me. I would like little more than to pay good money to sit in a darkened theater with a box of greasy popcorn and watch each and every one of them. I loved Ian McEwan's book, although I found the ending unsatisfaying; I love that the chick who wrote Juno began her writing career blogging about being a stripper (see clip below); I adore a good legal suspense drama, any Coen brothers film, and I'd watch Daniel Day Lewis reading a phone book in Farsi.
The tragic fact is that I don't get out. Like, ever. Not even to rent DVDs. If it's on HBO or TimeWarner™ Pay-Per-View, there's a chance. If we're not too tired. And the kid is asleep. And we've plowed through everything else on our TimeWarner™ DVR.
Best Actor: let's see. I did see Viggo Mortensen in Eastern Promises (on pay-per-view). I thought he pulled off the best totally naked knife fight scene in a bathhouse that I've ever seen. Although I have to say I could have lived a long and happy life never having seen Prince Aragorn's wee wee.
Best Actress: Elizabeth? Nope. Away From Her? Nah. La Vie en Rose, The Savages, Juno? Nyet, nein and non.
The last time I was in a cinema was two weekends ago, for a 10 a.m. showing of The Care Bears: Grumpy Bear Adventure. It was so bad even my three-year-old asked to leave. I definitely don't see that on the list, not even under animated features. Speaking of which, I have not seen Persepolis or Surf's Up. I did see Ratatouille on the 16-hour flight from Japan, but I'm fairly certain I did not experience it fully on the three-inch screen.
What they don't tell you when you have children is that parents should expect a three- to 18-year hiatus from serious cinema participation. When I look back upon the timeline of my life, it will be marked by the gaping holes in my movie knowledge post-children. But, you know, it's not all bad. My knowledge of Teletubbies has ratcheted way up.
I think I'll be sitting out the Oscar pool this year. But in 2016, man, watch out.
February 20, 2008 10:40
Work at home + high-pressure career = happiness
It sounds like the arithmetic of a delusional person, right? It's real math for a Chicago couple called the Mayvilles. They're profiled today in the McClatchy newspapers (I read the piece in Rochester, Minn.'s Post-Bulletin), in what for me was a really uplifting, informative story about people making work work.
The Mayvilles have two kids, ages 10 and 11. Both parents work at home, both in demanding, high-profile jobs.
Debbie Mayville, a director at a Washington, D.C.-based consultancy, starts telecommuting at 6 a.m. and tries to finish in time to meet her daughter at the bus stop, up the hill from their Alpharetta, Ga., home, when Abbey returns around 2:30 p.m.
As for her husband,
Dan Mayville, a manager for Deloitte, starts at 8:15 a.m. on the days when he does carpool duty for Nick. He tries to walk away from his office by 5:30 p.m.
As the couple admits readily, their current solution to the eternal work vs. parenting question is just one of many.
In an age when, at least in theory, many professionals could do their jobs from anywhere, few couples manage to evolve routines that don't require calling in reinforcements: nannies, au pairs, day care.
The Mayvilles tried all those and other arrangements when their children were younger. Debbie worked part-time for a while, and Dan stayed home with the kids for three years while she worked full-time. He recalls the hit to their income -- "Three times my annual take-home, that hurt" -- but they decided the trade-off was worth it.Each has taken career risks guided by a shared principle: "It all goes to the quality of life in your house," Debbie said. "It's not always about continuing to climb that ladder. You're surprised sometimes what doors open for you."
And that's the crux of it, isn't it, friends? In the end, it's all about the quality of life. When you have kids, that goal seems more pressing because other people's quality of life depends on your decisions. But it's true for any of us who work and live, isn't it? And more and more of us—childed and childless alike—are realizing that quality of life is greatly enhanced by losing the 9-to-5 office shackles.
Some employers are figuring it out, too. According to the WSJ CareerJournal,
Seventy percent of Cisco Systems employees regularly work from home at least 20% of the time. So do 34% of workers at Booz Allen Hamilton and 32% at S.C. Johnson & Sons.
My colleagues here at Time Inc. are no different in our desire for flexibility from office schedules. According to the results of a company-wide employee satisfaction survey conducted last summer, a large number of workers expressed a desire for flexible work arrangements. Yet my company makes no concerted effort to offer such.
I hope this changes, especially as I prepare to double my motherhood fun this summer with Baby No. 2. My job has all the makings of a flexible one: I have all the tools to work from home almost exclusively. But take this week, for instance. I find myself scheduled to come in every day due to meetings with editors and an assignment involving a complicated layout that is more easily accessed and managed from my work site.
Every time I write about how to better my work situation, I get e-mails and comments snorting that I ought to feel lucky anyone would hire a hack like me, and that if I was going to whine so much I ought to step aside and let the writer of the e-mail have the job. Friends, you're mistaken if you think I don't value my job.
Here's the chink in the equation that makes my math all funny: my job can be intense, demanding, high-pressure, headache-causing, high-profile, fast-paced, crazy-making—and I don't want to give it up. Much of the advice you read about meshing career and family in parenting books urge us to ease up on the work front while raising little ones. What if you don't want to or can't? Like the Mayvilles, many of us can make the necessary compromises while raising little people and still pursuing the careers we dream of. For more and more of us, what we let go of is the office.
February 19, 2008 5:13
I'm ready to fire my parents
In the olden days in my home country, it's said that poor families used to practice elder-dumping. There was even a designated dumping ground they called the Obasuteyama: literally, Granny-Dumping Mountain. (Don't believe me? Watch the 1999 film Ikitai.)
I'm ready for a trip to Obasuteyama. With both my parents.
Here's the situation. They live in Japan; their four children don't. Three of us live in New Jersey; the youngest is moving to Hong Kong, which at least puts him in their time zone. My mom's in the advanced stages of multiple cancers, and my pop has a variety of senior ailments that recently landed him in the hospital for a month. He arrived home yesterday, but with his mobility greatly compromised.
My younger brother Ken is there right now with them to ease the transition. Mom is understandably distressed at having to care for Pop after my brother leaves while she herself undergoes hard-core chemo. Yet she refuses to agree to live-in help—for now.
Caring for elderly parents long-distance is a growing problem for thousands of Americans, particularly Boomers. I've blogged before about it in connection to a CNN report on the topic (so thank you, friends, but you don't need to send me the link again).
And I'm hardly alone in the super-long-distance category. According to the Census, 33.5 million in the U.S. are foreign-born, which makes up 11.7% of the population. If you presume many of their parents remain abroad, that's a lot of us who care for parents many thousands of miles away.
Like many big employers, mine offers services like emergency in-home care for elderly or sick parents. I'm pretty sure they won't fly a home aide 8,000 miles to our home in Kobe, though. And of course there's FMLA, which allows employees of large companies up to 12 weeks off unpaid to manage personal issues like this one. Believe me, I've thought about it. But I'm pretty sure my employer won't arrange round-the-clock childcare in my absence, or overseas prenatal care, or counseling for my worried husband.
Here's another concern my Japanese grandmother would rightly call selfish: I'm also sure my absence would torpedo the assignments I've worked really hard to snag. It's enough that I've got maternity leave looming; taking a few months off to care for my parents preceding that leave will doubtless gouge a chunk out of my output this year.
It's a lousy dilemma and one that cuts through my already addled concentration like a hot knife through butter. I've had a crap day putting out fires (see correction below; that's just one), and all I can think about is how we can help get my parents through this mess. And you can save your indignant comments, friends: no one in my family is dumping anyone anywhere, though we keep telling our Pop that's the plan.
Never mind Obasuteyama for my folks; I think I need to spend a week up on some deserted mountaintop myself.
February 19, 2008 4:59
Correction alert to Asian voter story
A very nice but very distressed gentleman named Ted Fang called me to let me know of a very big mistake in my Time.com story today, "Does Obama Have an Asian problem?" It's this: his magazine, AsianWeek, not only didn't endorse Clinton, but it endorsed Obama—on its cover. Ouch. Please read that story here. And Ted, once again, my profuse apologies for a very boneheaded mistake on a very harried day.
February 19, 2008 11:31
Working parents must report bad nannies
Just read this forum on WSJ.com in which a working mother says she reported what she saw as the troubling behavior of someone else's nanny. The woman, who says she works in a building with a large common space where nannies and their charges often gather, noticed one pair in particular:
As I watched, the nanny ignored the child, a toddler, who was always bundled up for outside -- despite the 70-plus-degree temperature inside. The child's pleas for the nanny's attention were ignored. She would try to talk to the nanny and then give up and sink back into the stroller, sometimes in tears. The nanny would stare off into space. After seeing the pair a few more times, I reported the sighting.
She doesn't specify which site she reported to, but one such is ISawYourNanny. One report posted yesterday reads, in part:
I repeatedly run into a nanny that cares for three children on the Upper East Side in the 60s. ... The nanny leaves the children with other nannies and has asked me twice to watch the baby while she runs upstairs of uses the bathroom. ... I had NEVER seen the nanny before and didn't understand that she was leaving the area for a few minutes. I wasn't sure what she had said to me before she ran off.
As a working parent, this is the kind of thing that just throws your heart into your throat. Hiring and managing a caretaker is one of the most anxiety-fraught ordeals for us, and that's even when the caretaker turns out to be wonderful.
Such was my case. I interviewed a dozen women before settling on one who lived right in our town. It was only days later when I learned she had a really bizarro tattoo all over her body: of fetuses in various stages of growth. Gaaah! Right? I learned this from the working mom who lives across the street, and who had seen my babysitter in town. Turns out everyone (but us) knew her as the Tattoo Lady.
Of course, I freaked. But then I called the sitter's friend and neighbors and other people who knew her, and all attested to her devotion to her own children. I met her family. I watched her with my infant, and she was uniformly warm and attentive. Oh, it still broke my heart to leave my child with her to go to work. But at least I knew she was in good, safe hands.
Would I want to know if someone saw my sitter in the park leaving my baby with a stranger? Are you high? Of course I would. Would that be enough to fire her? I doubt it; I'd investigate first, confront her next. But first I'd need to know.
I heard Peggy Orenstein on NPR last year talking about her book, Waiting for Daisy. She said her heart used to reside in her chest. Now that she had a child, her heart lives outside her body, as her child is her heart. I'd argue most parents feel that way. Imagine your heart being ill treated, and the rest of you not knowing. Whether it's on a web site or, better yet, to the parent directly, we owe it to working parents everywhere to report bad nannies.
February 19, 2008 10:28
Now is a sucky time to go for a media job
According to Advertising Age, employment in the sector is at a 15-year low. Take a look at their chart:
Adage.com
Ad Age minces no words: "Get out of media," writes Bradley Johnson.
U.S. media employment in December fell to a 15-year low (886,900), slammed by the slumping newspaper industry. But employment in advertising/marketing-services -- agencies and other firms that provide marketing and communications services to marketers -- broke a record in November (769,000). Marketing consulting powered that growth.
How nice. Journalism slumps while marketing soars. I ask you: what the hell are these people marketing? Square watermelons? Erroneous exit polls? Books about the decline of media?
Suggestions for a new career, puh-leeze.
February 19, 2008 9:32
Does Obama have an Asian problem?
For answers, I'm directing you to my story posted this morning on Time.com. How's that for a quickie post.
February 18, 2008 9:00
Hot Asian actors want you to vote!
Did you know young Asian-Americans are the demographic least likely to vote? Only 34% of those betwen 18 and 25 make it to the polls.
I didn't, either, until I saw this ad from MTV's Choose or Lose campaign:
I think the creators have successfully gathered every young actor of Asian descent for this slickly produced spot. (I recognize a couple of the faces, and I've heard of Russell Wong—but then again, I'm not the target demo.) Apparently, it takes their combined forces plus the aesthetic influence of manga and sci-fi video games to get this population to their voting centers. Sad. But if it works, hey.
February 15, 2008 11:14
SI Swimsuit Issue: is it porn? Heck if I know
A few days ago, I walked into my office in the Time-Life Building and nearly slipped on a thick magazine tucked under my door: Sports Illustrated's annual Swimsuit Issue.
I blogged that day expressing my mild annoyance at this unwanted gift. Since then, I've been hit with a mini-tsunami of responses from readers and colleagues—not to mention other bloggers (Gawker thinks I'm a bonehead unworthy of my paycheck; Michael David Smith of Sports.AOL's Fanhouse sympathizes; Folio's Dylan Stableford praises Time.com for letting a twerp like me vent).
That whoosh you just heard is me taking a deep breath. At the risk of stirring up more muck—and earning me a visit to the principal's office—I feel called to follow up.
1. My beef is not with the existence of SISI. It's a boffo earner for my company, and believe me, we can use all the yen we can scratch up right now. I don't consider it journalism on the level of, say, SI's award-winning work exposing the Balco investigation, but I know many of my talented colleagues work their butts off preparing the issue every year. I do think it disingenuous to call it a fashion catalog; no woman I know takes their swimwear guidance from SI. Like my brother George would say, it is what it is: an issue packed with barely dressed ladies for a male audience normally interested in sports. It's sort of like Valentine's Day: an excuse to scarf candy once a year.
2. I don't know or care if SISI is porn. Though I called it porn in my post, if I'm being honest with you (as Simon Cowell would say), I was being flippant. Obscenity is notoriously difficult to define; as Justice Potter Stewart said in 1964, he knows it when he sees it. Heck if I can pin it down. But as commenter CoworkerInProgress first pointed out, we employees are sort of left to wonder what management thinks when each copy distributed to each desk is placed, deliberately and carefully, face down.
3. My beef is with the fact and manner of the distribution to employees. Time Inc. publishes 125 magazines. Each have best-selling, high-value issues: the Fortune 500; People, following the death of a big star; InStyle post-Oscar. My own magazine puts out some highly sought-after issues, if I may say so: TIME 100, say, or Person of the Year. None of these are distributed to every employee in the building. The fact of the distribution stamps an implied value on SISI not placed on our other top-selling issues. But it's a value determined without explanation or much sense, considering the issue's unique content and our diverse employee population.
4. Many of my Time Inc. colleagues agree. Since my post, I've gotten a slew of notes from employees who say they too have long objected to this singular practice (though many add I'm a knucklehead for saying so in public). Most are women; some are men. They variously pointed out the weirdness of singling out one issue, of copies placed face down, of receiving the issues at all. Many said they just tossed their issues in the bin, which, I might add, is what many readers have told me to do. But doesn't that completely work against our business goal of selling as many as possible?
On behalf of these colleagues, I humbly offer a suggestion. Doing away with the free issue isn't it; far be it for me to suggest eradicating a perk that no doubt more than a few of my fellow workers treasure.
Instead, how about allowing employees to opt out of receiving a copy beforehand? Ordinary subscribers have been given that option since 2005 by calling 1-866-228-1175. Doesn't it make sense to offer workers the same? That way, the workers who want their issues get them; we who don't, won't; and the company saves possibly hundreds of issues from the recycling bin and instead gets to sell them for $5.99 each to a willingly paying public. Win, win, win. Right, principal?
February 14, 2008 12:11
SI Swimsuit Issue guarantees: no recession!
Hear me out here. (Or, at least, hear Justin Fox out; he forwarded me the link.) According to Bespoke Investment Group,
We've all heard of the Super Bowl Indicator, but have you ever heard of the Swimsuit Issue Indicator? Over the last 30 years, an American has appeared on the cover of the annual Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue in 15 different years. The average performance of the S&P 500 during those 15 years is a gain of 13.9% with 13 positive years (87%). Of the fifteen years where no American appeared on the cover, the S&P 500 has averaged a gain of only 7.2% with 11 positive years (73%). In the table below, we highlight the native country of the model appearing on each year's issue as well as the performance of the S&P 500 that year.
And guess who's on the cover of SISI this year? Yep—Marisa Miller, born in Santa Cruz, Calif.
SI.com
Check out the numbers:
What's next—Punxsutawney Phil as jobs-outlook indicator? David Beckam's hairstyle as presidential election indicator? Al Roker as weather indicator?
February 14, 2008 8:00
A Valentine's horoscope
I keep this card above my computer that my husband gave me for Valentine's Day years ago. Back when we still did cards on Valentine's day. Back when we still did Valentine's Day. I'm guessing 1993.
(For a bittersweet bah humbug on the Hallmark holiday, do read Nancy Gibbs' essay in this week's TIME.)
I'm an Aries. Here's what it says:
You are the pioneer type and hold most people in contempt. Your feelings of superiority mask your total mediocrity. You are quick tempered, impatient and scornful of advice. You are a pr*ck.
Yep. That pretty much nails it. It also pretty much sums up my marriage that this is the one card I've chosen to keep all these years. Romance is as romance does; give me funny any day.
Happy V Day.
P.S. When I came downstairs this morning, there was a huge bouquet of flowers, three cards and three boxes of chocolates (one from each member of my family, including the gestating one). And not a one of the cards included a fart joke, though one featured Cupid changing up his style by mooning his subjects. So.
February 13, 2008 12:58
This just in: Obama supports Obama
I've long aspired to work for The Onion. Only I hear their dental plan isn't as good.
But this ain't no spoof. It's fo real. Barack Obama has a new constituency: a town in Japan called, yes, Obama. From The Guardian:
As the race for the nomination heated up, the town's tourism office received a stream of calls from locals wishing Obama well. On Super Tuesday, supporters nervously clutched photos of Obama as they watched the results come in at their makeshift headquarters in a hotel, whose lobby is currently home to a large portrait of the candidate.
Funniest kicker, from AngryAsianMan:
The cities of McCain and Clinton could not be reached for comment.
Not to be outdone, says ABCnews.com,
the employees of a farming and construction machinery maker in southern Japan are cheering for the candidate whose first name is the same as one of the transportation machines they build and sell: the "Hillary."
This video ad for some T-shirt maker in Japan randomly chooses the names of the candidates to translate into kanji characters:
Hillary = First Lady, equality and office holder.
Obama = hero, wing and truth.
McCain = truth, mind, both houses.
Huckabee = he who lost 50 kg without surgery.
Just kidding about the last one. They didn't translate the Arkansas guv's name.