Before leaving my old job I helped to recruit a new me. It was actually quite useful to see the job hunting run from the other perspective. So this week I thought that I'd share what it's like to be on the other side of the CV...
First of all, first impressions do count. You are being judged from the moment you engage.
Yes, it's true. Whether you call up and enquire, or walk into your potential employer to ask about a position, or hand in a CV, you are being sized up for the role. In those few seconds. And it can't be helped.
It's not necessarily a conscious thing on the employer's part, or on the part of the employees you might speak to instead, so it's important to make a conscious effort to make a good impression the first time you make an interaction. Whether you meet the boss or the cleaner, they're judging you and they'll probably pass those judgments on... even if it's just "he seemed nice" or "I loved her shoes."
Think about what you want to say before you pick up the phone and ask about the job, and speak clearly. Ask about a specific job role, saying "I've called about the job" wouldn't be much use if they are advertising several positions.
Don't walk in and ask a current employee about the position and then insult the manager/boss/owner. You don't know work relationships yet, and you probably have no idea who you are talking you. Someone did this to me while we were hiring and I was slightly gobsmacked!
Do feel free to be friendly with the current employees, regardless of their role. You might be working with them one day. If they seem amiable and available, feel free to ask them about the job/business. If they seem busy and stressed out, come back later and don't bug them. Try to preempt when it might be less busy for them. For a sandwich bar, late afternoon is best, for a restaurant, in between settings is best, for an office position, you may have to do some research to see if there are big events or news stories taking place that might be taking up the employees' time, or you might just have to hedge your bets and take a guess. They'll let you know... the number of times I was working in the deli and another business called us to talk shop and I had to say "you've called a sandwich bar at lunchtime, could you please call back at 3pm?"
Show enthusiasm about applying for the job. Whether you are calling up, handing in a CV, or just asking if there are any jobs - stride in, smile, and show them that you'd enjoy working there. That's the best impression you can give.
If all that sounds obvious to you, of course, then you're halfway there already...
Monday, 29 March 2010
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
U are my favorite
Email that I received this week from my partner:
"So I just realized something. I submitted a job application and I had to send a writing sample from my degree coursework. I just realized, and had to correct it before I sent out this application, that all writing samples I have sent out with job applications could have actually cost me jobs. Why? Because ALL spelling is in BRITISH English!"
When employers are swamped with job applications, yes, it can come down to details like these.
Still, it's not as good as one job application my mum received when she was hiring for a position, it stated that the applicant was qualified in "fist aid".
"So I just realized something. I submitted a job application and I had to send a writing sample from my degree coursework. I just realized, and had to correct it before I sent out this application, that all writing samples I have sent out with job applications could have actually cost me jobs. Why? Because ALL spelling is in BRITISH English!"
When employers are swamped with job applications, yes, it can come down to details like these.
Still, it's not as good as one job application my mum received when she was hiring for a position, it stated that the applicant was qualified in "fist aid".
Monday, 8 March 2010
What's luck got to do with it?
Am I lucky? Was it luck?
While I might feel "lucky" for want of a better word, I believe there is more to it than luck. Not, of course, to say "I'm bloody brilliant and why wouldn't anyone hire me", not at all, but I think there are certain things that can improve your chances of getting the good news phone call. Note, I say improve, not guarantee.
I know where to look for jobs related to my career aspirations. Politics/public sector graduates like me have a few websites to source employment opportunities, internships and other experience. Namely these are sites like guardianjobs, w4mp, eurobrussels, euractiv, publicaffairs. However, I also kept an eye on various other sites - individual companies/organisations, local job sites, even jobs direct. If I found a good job on these sites instead, I targeted it first.
Why? Because jobs advertised on specific sector sites are (probably, I admit I'm using no insider knowledge here) advertising to a specific market. Most of the positions are based in London (I'll get to that) and the applicants probably had very similar CVs and career aspirations as me. That makes it difficult to stand out. It makes the competition a lot tougher.
I did consider that not being London-based would be a disadvantage for someone in my position. I live in rural Scotland. However, there are opportunities to be found. Maybe I am lucky to some extent that I live near enough to a variety of good Universities where I secured some interviews for relevant jobs, and also it seems, a good pool of regional offices.
I had applied for various positions in London/Brussels, with mixed results. I had made the assumption of tough competition and oversubscription; of course it is hard to speculate that if the local jobs I had applied for had been in a different setting would I have had similar results? But by keeping the notion of the big city in the back of my mind, rather than being the focus of my job hunt, I had some ego-boosting local experiences instead. And I discovered that ego-boosting is just as important as getting an actual job.
The other thing that is vitally important - experience. Most grads get that 'degree is not enough' tagline shoved down their throats enough times, but it's very true.
Here's a timeline for you:
- I studied that 'useless' subject Film and TV at Uni (alongside Politics).
- I used that as a hook to getting to write film reviews for the student magazine. I wasn't even very good, but it was a new magazine and I got there first.
- I learned a bit more in the subediting/design side of the magazine.
- I got summer job helping with a summer newsletter, giving me office experience.
- I got a Politics degree, and with office experience, got admin jobs with government in specific policy fields... which, strangely (or not so strangely) relate to where I am now.
I absolutely didn't plan it that way. I remember one evening sat on my stoop in the city, watching the moon in the sky and the traffic passing by, crying down the phone to a friend. She was in a 'perfect' job, earning above the national average, had a car and a flat and was generally enjoying life. I was struggling to pay my rent, exhausted from studying and working and all of the rest of it, and not even sure if it was all going to be worth it. I was jealous of her life while mine seemed so uncertain and messy.
"It's all in your head" she reassured, "you worry it's not worth it, that you don't know where you're going, but I promise you that on the outside you appear sorted. You've got good work experience and everything will fit together. It will."
It hadn't surfaced in my mind at the time that the very friend I was confiding in had had her own roundabout way to her current position. She'd started a Post Grad course and dropped out during the final furlong, moved back in with her parents and spent some time freaking out about her next step when an opportunity arose (incidentally related to a summer job she once had).
This all demonstrates how you can use one thing to lead to another, or how you can let your interests lead the way down a windy forked career path.
Recently there have been further difficulties in taking that path - recession and a bad job market. I don't want to use the "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade" line, but things I had thought were disadvantages: living far away from big cities/urban hubs, and having previously taken temporary office roles, I inadvertently managed to use to my advantage.
While I might feel "lucky" for want of a better word, I believe there is more to it than luck. Not, of course, to say "I'm bloody brilliant and why wouldn't anyone hire me", not at all, but I think there are certain things that can improve your chances of getting the good news phone call. Note, I say improve, not guarantee.
I know where to look for jobs related to my career aspirations. Politics/public sector graduates like me have a few websites to source employment opportunities, internships and other experience. Namely these are sites like guardianjobs, w4mp, eurobrussels, euractiv, publicaffairs. However, I also kept an eye on various other sites - individual companies/organisations, local job sites, even jobs direct. If I found a good job on these sites instead, I targeted it first.
Why? Because jobs advertised on specific sector sites are (probably, I admit I'm using no insider knowledge here) advertising to a specific market. Most of the positions are based in London (I'll get to that) and the applicants probably had very similar CVs and career aspirations as me. That makes it difficult to stand out. It makes the competition a lot tougher.
I did consider that not being London-based would be a disadvantage for someone in my position. I live in rural Scotland. However, there are opportunities to be found. Maybe I am lucky to some extent that I live near enough to a variety of good Universities where I secured some interviews for relevant jobs, and also it seems, a good pool of regional offices.
I had applied for various positions in London/Brussels, with mixed results. I had made the assumption of tough competition and oversubscription; of course it is hard to speculate that if the local jobs I had applied for had been in a different setting would I have had similar results? But by keeping the notion of the big city in the back of my mind, rather than being the focus of my job hunt, I had some ego-boosting local experiences instead. And I discovered that ego-boosting is just as important as getting an actual job.
The other thing that is vitally important - experience. Most grads get that 'degree is not enough' tagline shoved down their throats enough times, but it's very true.
Here's a timeline for you:
- I studied that 'useless' subject Film and TV at Uni (alongside Politics).
- I used that as a hook to getting to write film reviews for the student magazine. I wasn't even very good, but it was a new magazine and I got there first.
- I learned a bit more in the subediting/design side of the magazine.
- I got summer job helping with a summer newsletter, giving me office experience.
- I got a Politics degree, and with office experience, got admin jobs with government in specific policy fields... which, strangely (or not so strangely) relate to where I am now.
I absolutely didn't plan it that way. I remember one evening sat on my stoop in the city, watching the moon in the sky and the traffic passing by, crying down the phone to a friend. She was in a 'perfect' job, earning above the national average, had a car and a flat and was generally enjoying life. I was struggling to pay my rent, exhausted from studying and working and all of the rest of it, and not even sure if it was all going to be worth it. I was jealous of her life while mine seemed so uncertain and messy.
"It's all in your head" she reassured, "you worry it's not worth it, that you don't know where you're going, but I promise you that on the outside you appear sorted. You've got good work experience and everything will fit together. It will."
It hadn't surfaced in my mind at the time that the very friend I was confiding in had had her own roundabout way to her current position. She'd started a Post Grad course and dropped out during the final furlong, moved back in with her parents and spent some time freaking out about her next step when an opportunity arose (incidentally related to a summer job she once had).
This all demonstrates how you can use one thing to lead to another, or how you can let your interests lead the way down a windy forked career path.
Recently there have been further difficulties in taking that path - recession and a bad job market. I don't want to use the "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade" line, but things I had thought were disadvantages: living far away from big cities/urban hubs, and having previously taken temporary office roles, I inadvertently managed to use to my advantage.
Thursday, 25 February 2010
Human Interest Story
This is a bit off my usual blogometer, but give me patience as I adjust to my new job, please thank you.
At work I'm going to be working on a project involving older people and social inclusion. It is a serious and compelling issue and I'm excited to be a part of it. I've worked with a government programme for older people before, and I was on the front line, speaking to (and hopefully helping) people, so I know how confusing new services and processes can be for this demographic.
I also understand a little about the loneliness that older people can feel as well. I remember reading an article (I will find and link it) about a man who put an ad in the local paper offering to pay £7 an hour for people to go for a pint with his father. It was a sad and touching story, reflective of our modern lives - the adults who are too far away or too busy to care for their parents, the longer periods of retirement as average life expectancies increase with each year that pass, and the need for companionship. The point that the article made was that older people often don't need someone to do something with - there are SAGA holidays and local meetings and other such events where people of similar age group can do activities together. No, it is the moments of doing nothing that are the loneliest. People don't need someone to do something with, they need someone to do nothing with.
It is this weird place that I find myself too. I can spend hours talking to my partner on Skype or on webcam or on the phone, but there are times for conversation and there are times when I'd rather just sit and be in a room with him, silently co-existing. People ask if I miss him. I say I don't miss him when I am busy doing things, it is when I am doing nothing that I would like to be doing nothing with him.
At work I'm going to be working on a project involving older people and social inclusion. It is a serious and compelling issue and I'm excited to be a part of it. I've worked with a government programme for older people before, and I was on the front line, speaking to (and hopefully helping) people, so I know how confusing new services and processes can be for this demographic.
I also understand a little about the loneliness that older people can feel as well. I remember reading an article (I will find and link it) about a man who put an ad in the local paper offering to pay £7 an hour for people to go for a pint with his father. It was a sad and touching story, reflective of our modern lives - the adults who are too far away or too busy to care for their parents, the longer periods of retirement as average life expectancies increase with each year that pass, and the need for companionship. The point that the article made was that older people often don't need someone to do something with - there are SAGA holidays and local meetings and other such events where people of similar age group can do activities together. No, it is the moments of doing nothing that are the loneliest. People don't need someone to do something with, they need someone to do nothing with.
It is this weird place that I find myself too. I can spend hours talking to my partner on Skype or on webcam or on the phone, but there are times for conversation and there are times when I'd rather just sit and be in a room with him, silently co-existing. People ask if I miss him. I say I don't miss him when I am busy doing things, it is when I am doing nothing that I would like to be doing nothing with him.
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
Those to come
I had gone through to the city for a friend's birthday drinks. It had been a wonderful evening, but depressingly grown up; it involved one full-blown argument about art and another about Chekhov. We also talked about politics, and the house that one friend was about to buy, about the teaching career another was to embark on, about my career and my new job, and about job hunting in general, which of course many of my friends are still pursuing.
"Of course, you know what you're talking about," was the comment directed at me. I suppose I do. I know as much about what doesn't work as what does. No, I know more about what doesn't work than what does. I've also spent some time considering this whole job market world, helping friends with CVs, playing with my CV, playing trial and error with job applications.
"I think, if I had a question, I would probably ask you..."
...to which I replied "Half of it is just knowing where to look for information. I have spent a long time looking for information and now I know where to look."
Still ain't an expert though, and I don't pretend to be. But nevertheless, I'm getting a reputation for myself it seems, which is no bad thing.
Which is also my round-about way of saying that I still have a lot to say on here, so hold tight and don't think I'm deserting my blog because I found a job.
Incidentally, I'm quite looking forward to getting stuck into my new role. It's with a very interesting organisation that pursues a lot of interesting projects.
One could say that I'm very lucky indeed...
"Of course, you know what you're talking about," was the comment directed at me. I suppose I do. I know as much about what doesn't work as what does. No, I know more about what doesn't work than what does. I've also spent some time considering this whole job market world, helping friends with CVs, playing with my CV, playing trial and error with job applications.
"I think, if I had a question, I would probably ask you..."
...to which I replied "Half of it is just knowing where to look for information. I have spent a long time looking for information and now I know where to look."
Still ain't an expert though, and I don't pretend to be. But nevertheless, I'm getting a reputation for myself it seems, which is no bad thing.
Which is also my round-about way of saying that I still have a lot to say on here, so hold tight and don't think I'm deserting my blog because I found a job.
Incidentally, I'm quite looking forward to getting stuck into my new role. It's with a very interesting organisation that pursues a lot of interesting projects.
One could say that I'm very lucky indeed...
Monday, 15 February 2010
see-saw for thought
Many people use the new year as a time for reflection and taking mental stock. I use long bus journeys.
This bus journey in particular was heading towards a job interview, unexpected, but very welcome, as a result of the phone call the other week.
It is almost exactly a year since I finished (what will hopefully be) my last stint in a temp job, called up a friend and met for burgers and pints; a joint celebration/commiseration while waiting for the future to begin. Since the job market was shoddy and it looked unlikely I'd find another temp job soon, and I was already almost over-stretching in trying to balance my work/uni/life commitments, the rest of the year looked open and empty ahead of me. I had been worried about how Uni was going, about how I would find more work, worried about money and paying the rent and the council tax and the bills, worried about where I would be headed afterwards and how I was going to get a career started, I was worried about my social life and the effect that working so hard had had on my relationships with people. I was still kind of getting over a bout of flu that I'd suffered from a couple of weeks before, feeling exhausted because my body hadn't quite recovered and because the weather was dark and sharp in the cold, lingering grip of Scottish winter.
The future began the next day when I met some of my Uni friends for nachos and I met the person who was to change the course of the year and the course of my life. In the past year I have gained my degree, had language classes, gone backpacking, had an absolute blast working in the deli, gone abroad and gotten engaged. It is far beyond what I could have comprehended a simple year ago.
My partner and I often tell each other that we balance each other out. We are individuals, unique and different and sometimes polar opposites. But we are also a team, working together and pulling the best out of each other, giving each other a kick up when one of us is down. We are each other's harshest critics and each other's biggest champions. We are stronger together.
This is a new experience for me, something I have had to learn over the past year. I am still getting used to constantly thinking of someone else in everything that I consider, in every action I take. I'm still getting used to compromising and discussing and deciding as two people, not just one.
As I stepped off the bus and headed towards the office, I barely gave a thought to pepping myself up for the interview. If it didn't work out, it didn't matter. If that's one thing the past year has taught me, it's that I can pick myself up and start again.
With that in mind I talked myself through the 90 minute interview (mostly) confidently, answered (almost) every question eloquently and drew competency examples from my whole career. Afterwards, I bid good-day to my interviewers and got a bus to work, and that's when I started to panic about my performance.
Until a few hours passed, and I received the phone call, and I received the job offer.
Needless to say, my partner is also ecstatic for me. It's a win for the team, after all!
Unfortunately my partner did not receive the same kind of news from a job application he'd been waiting on, and that news absolutely broke my heart. I would rather that he had had the good news, over and above myself. I wanted to make it right, to balance the see-saw, even push it to his favour.
So it's been a bittersweet week for our team, a strange combination of jubilation, heartbreak, and determination.
But we're riding it together, and when you balance it out, we're doing alright.
This bus journey in particular was heading towards a job interview, unexpected, but very welcome, as a result of the phone call the other week.
It is almost exactly a year since I finished (what will hopefully be) my last stint in a temp job, called up a friend and met for burgers and pints; a joint celebration/commiseration while waiting for the future to begin. Since the job market was shoddy and it looked unlikely I'd find another temp job soon, and I was already almost over-stretching in trying to balance my work/uni/life commitments, the rest of the year looked open and empty ahead of me. I had been worried about how Uni was going, about how I would find more work, worried about money and paying the rent and the council tax and the bills, worried about where I would be headed afterwards and how I was going to get a career started, I was worried about my social life and the effect that working so hard had had on my relationships with people. I was still kind of getting over a bout of flu that I'd suffered from a couple of weeks before, feeling exhausted because my body hadn't quite recovered and because the weather was dark and sharp in the cold, lingering grip of Scottish winter.
The future began the next day when I met some of my Uni friends for nachos and I met the person who was to change the course of the year and the course of my life. In the past year I have gained my degree, had language classes, gone backpacking, had an absolute blast working in the deli, gone abroad and gotten engaged. It is far beyond what I could have comprehended a simple year ago.
My partner and I often tell each other that we balance each other out. We are individuals, unique and different and sometimes polar opposites. But we are also a team, working together and pulling the best out of each other, giving each other a kick up when one of us is down. We are each other's harshest critics and each other's biggest champions. We are stronger together.
This is a new experience for me, something I have had to learn over the past year. I am still getting used to constantly thinking of someone else in everything that I consider, in every action I take. I'm still getting used to compromising and discussing and deciding as two people, not just one.
As I stepped off the bus and headed towards the office, I barely gave a thought to pepping myself up for the interview. If it didn't work out, it didn't matter. If that's one thing the past year has taught me, it's that I can pick myself up and start again.
With that in mind I talked myself through the 90 minute interview (mostly) confidently, answered (almost) every question eloquently and drew competency examples from my whole career. Afterwards, I bid good-day to my interviewers and got a bus to work, and that's when I started to panic about my performance.
Until a few hours passed, and I received the phone call, and I received the job offer.
Needless to say, my partner is also ecstatic for me. It's a win for the team, after all!
Unfortunately my partner did not receive the same kind of news from a job application he'd been waiting on, and that news absolutely broke my heart. I would rather that he had had the good news, over and above myself. I wanted to make it right, to balance the see-saw, even push it to his favour.
So it's been a bittersweet week for our team, a strange combination of jubilation, heartbreak, and determination.
But we're riding it together, and when you balance it out, we're doing alright.
Monday, 8 February 2010
PAW for thought
"What's your post-apocalyptic skill?" My mum asked.
"Uhhh... I can knit. A bit. But not that well. I don't think I could knit anything useful."
Knitting is mum's skill. She once knitted me an Amy Winehouse doll. No pattern or anything. It was featured on the Heat Magazine website and everything. Okay, so that's not so useful either, but she knits all manner of clothing and toys. She's also a great seamstress and makes clothes...including wedding dresses.
"I can't shear a sheep or spin wool either, so that's useless. Anyway, all the clothes shops would still have clothes in them, for a while, until they all got looted."
"Looting might not happen," my mum pointed out. She'd obviously thought about this. "We're talking about an abstract situation here. There might not be any power or many people, but it doesn't mean shops couldn't open for a time, or that people couldn't function normal lives. In the short-term things might be okay, we'd have food and clothing and structures. It's the long term that we would need to plan for."
"Riiight. Ok." I wasn't quite sure mum was still being hypothetical, and I was also too engrossed in an online flash game.
"So what's your skill then?" She asked again.
"I don't know. I'm really good at this sushi game."
"That's your skill? Playing a sushi game?"
"It's really hard! You have to memorise the menu, make the dishes, keep an eye on all the customers, make sure they are all being catered for, make sure you never run out of ingredients and that you're making enough money..."
Actually. It's just like my job making sandwiches at the deli.
Damn. I pushed my laptop away. I suddenly didn't want to be playing at my job on my day off.
"Well, I know about politics. I can get discounts in taxis apparently."
My mum rolled her eyes and started a new line of knitting the complicated scarf she was working on, "I meant a useful skill. Think about it. In a post-apocalyptic world, you don't know how many people have survived, and what their skills will be. We'll need doctors and medical experts, we'll need farmers and horticulturalists, engineers and electricians, communications experts and teachers to pass on skills to the next generation. The next generation will be really important, and how would we decide which children learn which skills?"
"Well, it'd be a throw-back to early economics. The children of the craftsfolk would take on their parents' trades, most likely. Learn from an early age." I added.
"But is that the best way to do it?" My mum pressed. "Because, in the post-apocalyptic era it'll be vital to have the best people possible learning these skills in the shortest amount of time. What if the doctor's son is better at cooking? At what age would they decide to choose their vocation? Is it truly fair to dictate to them what they should do?"
"That's not really different from now. Capitalism. The best people become successful in their chosen field."
"But it will be more imperative if there are fewer people and survival is the aim, to choose the best skilled people to fill these roles, in a short space of time."
"That could be a democratic decision..." I led.
"Depending on how big the post-apocalyptic community would be, we'd need to be organised and assign roles accordingly so that we could pull together and survive."
"And in order to organise the community you'll need people who are skilled in organising and who know the principles of leading communities..." I continued.
"Well, it'd have to work on group decisions, like community meetings to make these decisions," my mum pondered.
"And you'd need people who knew the best methods for making group decisions, or who knew the theories and difficulties in creating good and fair systems for effective control of groups of people."
"I suppose so."
"So you'd need people who knew about politics then. And had experience in administrating groups of people." I smiled, wide-eyed.
"Well, I suppose so," my mum conceded.
"There you go. Not so useless after all." I grinned.
"Uhhh... I can knit. A bit. But not that well. I don't think I could knit anything useful."
Knitting is mum's skill. She once knitted me an Amy Winehouse doll. No pattern or anything. It was featured on the Heat Magazine website and everything. Okay, so that's not so useful either, but she knits all manner of clothing and toys. She's also a great seamstress and makes clothes...including wedding dresses.
"I can't shear a sheep or spin wool either, so that's useless. Anyway, all the clothes shops would still have clothes in them, for a while, until they all got looted."
"Looting might not happen," my mum pointed out. She'd obviously thought about this. "We're talking about an abstract situation here. There might not be any power or many people, but it doesn't mean shops couldn't open for a time, or that people couldn't function normal lives. In the short-term things might be okay, we'd have food and clothing and structures. It's the long term that we would need to plan for."
"Riiight. Ok." I wasn't quite sure mum was still being hypothetical, and I was also too engrossed in an online flash game.
"So what's your skill then?" She asked again.
"I don't know. I'm really good at this sushi game."
"That's your skill? Playing a sushi game?"
"It's really hard! You have to memorise the menu, make the dishes, keep an eye on all the customers, make sure they are all being catered for, make sure you never run out of ingredients and that you're making enough money..."
Actually. It's just like my job making sandwiches at the deli.
Damn. I pushed my laptop away. I suddenly didn't want to be playing at my job on my day off.
"Well, I know about politics. I can get discounts in taxis apparently."
My mum rolled her eyes and started a new line of knitting the complicated scarf she was working on, "I meant a useful skill. Think about it. In a post-apocalyptic world, you don't know how many people have survived, and what their skills will be. We'll need doctors and medical experts, we'll need farmers and horticulturalists, engineers and electricians, communications experts and teachers to pass on skills to the next generation. The next generation will be really important, and how would we decide which children learn which skills?"
"Well, it'd be a throw-back to early economics. The children of the craftsfolk would take on their parents' trades, most likely. Learn from an early age." I added.
"But is that the best way to do it?" My mum pressed. "Because, in the post-apocalyptic era it'll be vital to have the best people possible learning these skills in the shortest amount of time. What if the doctor's son is better at cooking? At what age would they decide to choose their vocation? Is it truly fair to dictate to them what they should do?"
"That's not really different from now. Capitalism. The best people become successful in their chosen field."
"But it will be more imperative if there are fewer people and survival is the aim, to choose the best skilled people to fill these roles, in a short space of time."
"That could be a democratic decision..." I led.
"Depending on how big the post-apocalyptic community would be, we'd need to be organised and assign roles accordingly so that we could pull together and survive."
"And in order to organise the community you'll need people who are skilled in organising and who know the principles of leading communities..." I continued.
"Well, it'd have to work on group decisions, like community meetings to make these decisions," my mum pondered.
"And you'd need people who knew the best methods for making group decisions, or who knew the theories and difficulties in creating good and fair systems for effective control of groups of people."
"I suppose so."
"So you'd need people who knew about politics then. And had experience in administrating groups of people." I smiled, wide-eyed.
"Well, I suppose so," my mum conceded.
"There you go. Not so useless after all." I grinned.
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