By Zara Samdani, Co-Managing Editor
Dear O’ver A. Cheever,
Did you know that your LinkedIn account is 19 years old? This is especially impressive because you are only 17 years old. This means that your parents created your LinkedIn account before they created you.
Apologies for being so harsh, I just needed to get it out of my system. Let me be more specific: Your account has over four pages of unnecessary awards, useless accolades and extraneous coursework. Instead of going through the trouble of creating an online account to demonstrate your academic prowess, why not just staple your resume to your forehead?
Yes, your friends may lie to you and say that your account is outstanding. Yes, you may have over 500 connections. However — and this brings me no pleasure to say — what use are hundreds of virtual connections when you only have one physical one in real life: your computer?
We marvel at your ability to transform a grocery run into a “strategic procurement initiative” and a weekend spent mastering the art of napping into a “workshop on optimizing human capital potential.” Your vocabulary makes us question every conversation we’ve ever endured. Who knew “disruptive innovation” could be used to describe a particularly stubborn jelly stain on your shirt?
And the endorsements? You possess the uncanny ability to receive acclaim for every conceivable skill created since mankind. “Master negotiator?” Check. “Expert in competitive egg-scrambling?” We don’t doubt it for a second.
But here’s the thing: we see through the veneer. We know your “passion for excellence” sometimes translates to simply a “mild preference for getting out of bed in the morning.” We suspect your “growth mindset” might involve stretching the truth on your resume by a hair — or two. And those motivational quotes? Let’s be honest, they’re mostly just an attempt to fill the awkward silence between your carefully curated “experiences” section and your questionable selfie taken at a corporate building.
However, we salute you. In this digital race, you’ve mastered the art of playing the game. You’ve weaponized the language of corporate speak and turned yourself into a formidable fighter against the harsh realities of college admission and the job market.
So the answer is yes — I still hate you. But keep on posting, keep on connecting because in the land of LinkedIn, the most important skill might not be what you can do, but how well you can say you can do it.
Signed,
The Society of Awkward Yet Secretly Admiring LinkedIn Lurkers (SAYSALL)
Zara Samdani can be reached at [email protected].
