Capitol Offense, Part I

Hey, VM readers! I’ve decided to start bringing in guest bloggers as part of my nefarious strategy to develop Virtual Memories into something more like a magazine than a monologue. This week’s guest entry is from Todd Kutyla, who provides us with an introduction to Capitol Offense, an occasional column that’ll discuss the absurdities of life in Washington, DC. If you have an idea for a column, drop me a line sometime and we’ll talk about starting up a side-page on VM.

When I was asked to contribute regular postings on life in DC I jumped at the opportunity. Maybe I jumped a bit too quickly, because right after I agreed to write something things got a little crazy here in the nation’s capital — at least for me.

It took me a while to figure out what I was going to write about. Ideas were in no short supply, I just couldn’t decide which to pursue in this space and which to save as private rants to my wife and friends. Then I lost my job.

I am (at least for the next 5 weeks) a policy analyst with a small think-tank. We do mostly health policy and when one of the major grantmakers decided to change their focus we, and a lot of places like ours, lost a huge source of funding. Add that to the general climate around town — I’d call it bitter — and you have a situation ripe for downsizing. Don’t feel too bad for me though, I was looking to make a move anyway, and this forced me to put things in motion a little faster. By the way, if any of you readers know of anyone looking for a former policy analyst who is really good with people (I was a bartender for 5 years), creative (I’ve written for magazines and apprenticed with an artist/furniture designer), and who is looking to do less policy and more communications/marketing in his next job — barring of course the possibility that somebody will offer him a lot of money to design and build furniture — drop me a line.

So here I am with a mortgage and raising two kids in the District, and now I’m racing against the clock to find a new job. What an opportunity.

What better way to start writing about life here in DC, where more than your brain, your abilities, or your pocketbook; your Rolodex is your most valuable asset than to give you a glimpse of what it’s like to look for a job here in the cradle of democracy.

Being reasonably well-connected in the health policy arena, I know the value of being able to call up somebody to get advice or information and having that person give you exactly what you need exactly when you need it. Being less well-connected in the communications and/or design fields I also know the panic of flipping through that big black cylinder on my desk and coming up all-but-empty. Fortunately, some of the people in my cylinder are willing to look in their cylinders and I think I’m in as good a shape as I could hope to be at the moment. Nonetheless, it’s a harrowing time. Luckily the cherry blossoms are coming into bloom. I love DC this time of year.

Here’s a summary of the job search so far:

Last week my boss — who let me say up front, is one of the best people you could ever hope to work for in- or outside of DC — calls me into his office. We’ve been on the financial ropes here for s little while as I mentioned earlier, so I’m not surprised when he tells me that as of the end of April there’s just no money to keep me. Actually, I was planning on telling him the following week — this week — that I’ve started to put out feelers, and ask for his help making some connections. The end of May would have been ideal. But, hey it’s spring along the Potomac, if you have to be unemployed for a few weeks, there’s not too many better places or times to spend the free hours between interviews.

This week my boss and I both started making phone calls. Jack is one of the most respected health policy analysts in the city and has contacts all over the place — including with some of the best communications firms in the city. His calls will mean a lot. Even if it’s just getting people to sit down and talk with you, and hopefully give you some of the names out of their big, black cylinders. I’m also working every connection I have, which range from a Partner in a top health communications firm that we’ve worked with in the past, to a Project Manager at an advertising & communications firm who called me last week to order some of our reports for her clients and who I ended up chatting with for 10 or 15 minutes about our project and her relationship status — she broke up with the boyfriend who may or may not have been the guy who was going to rent my basement.

I had a meeting with the partner, who hooked me up with a designer friend of his (that’s a story for another time, maybe the next installment) and is putting together a list of contacts for me. I have a meeting next Thursday with a Director at another huge public relations firm that Jack introduced me to. Though I probably don’t want to work there — in large part because I will not be offered a job there — this meeting should garner me another, more targeted and so more valuable list of names. Are you starting to see how this works?

I will not send out a cold resume for this job search or respond to a job listing from the Washington Post. In this town, that is a waste of time. Here more than other places I think–perhaps because of the bureaucratic mentality that pervades even the private sector–Human Resource people are the last people you want screening your resume, unless you are a squirrel applying for the job of nut-collector. I’ve never, in ten years and three job searches in this city had any luck with HR people.

So I’m grabbing my nose and jumping into this thing with both feet. I have only a vague idea of where I’ll end up. I know at the very least my title in the next position I hold won’t be Policy Analyst or Research Associate.

Obviously I will end up doing something connected to politics. Even catering in this town ends up being connected to politics after all. I suppose if I weren’t political to some degree I wouldn’t stay here what with the lead in the water, high crime rate, lack of representation, and oppressive summers. Then again I might–free museums, great running trails, beautiful parks, and of course the cherry blossoms?

–TJK

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