I received
an invitation to attend a networking lunch with a new group. Excited, I changed
my schedule to attend. I view networking events as opportunities for three
things: creating new connections, exploring opportunities, and my favorite, people
watching.
After having
survived this particular event only by the skin of my teeth, I am forced to admit
the broad generalizations I held about networking events were ill-conceived.
Not a little off the mark but out the ballpark incorrect. Please don’t tell my
husband. I hate admitting I am wrong.
I confirmed
there is a secret world out there. A world people like me don’t understand. In
this world, all the sales people conspire to create dastardly plans, campaigns
to make the non-sales people feel invisible and obsolete. They accidentally allowed
me to attend one of their meetings last week. As an educator, writer, and
non-for-profit advocate, I didn’t belong there. I quickly found myself trapped
in a sea of business card exchanging, name dropping, and high-pitched fake
laughing.
After a
short time, a few of them figured me out. After my commonness was revealed, basic
courtesies like the give and take of conservations and eye contact became just
too much for some. In their secret world, created by who you know rather than
what you know, I became invisible. People would chat long enough to assess my
value to them. After deciding I had none, if they bothered to appropriately
close the conversation, I noticed them looking past or through me, but no
longer at me.
I found
myself feeling alone in a room full of people. Watching them, I kept thinking many
of them should be in theater rather than sales or perhaps in addition to. There
is no possible way these people could be this energetic, loud, and animated all
the time. When my lunch check arrived, I expected to find an additional fee for
the show I just suffered through but apparently the spectacle is free to world
members. Relieved to be spared of the expense, I left before anyone asked me to demonstrate
the secret salesperson handshake.
Please don’t
get me wrong. Networking, when done correctly, is great and I appreciate the
value in having opportunities to meet with like-minded professionals. But that’s
where the rub occurred in this instance– the whole like-minded idea is critically
important. Am I opposed to sales people? Of course not. As writers, we have to
sell our ideas and ourselves in every query and pitch. As an advocate for the
AHA, I have to convince people to share their charitable giving with our
organization. A fair amount of
salesmanship is involved in doing this, in addition to raising awareness. What
bothered me was the immediate dismissal I encountered and watched happen to
other people over the course of three hours.
At the end
of the day, we all want to matter to someone and have others recognize our
value, even if it doesn’t immediately serve them. Maybe I am just old-fashioned
but that should be at the core of creating connections. One thing I know for
sure, the next lunch I attend will be in the company of those who I know do
this – my family! I just hope they remember to bring their business cards.
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