Dear Queenie,
I have a friend who is extremely proud of her adult children. And I mean extremely proud. Every time one of them gets a new job, I receive the full press release. The company is amazing. The position is amazing. The salary is amazing. The boss apparently recognised immediately how talented her child is. Within weeks, I’m getting updates about how well they’re doing and how impressed everyone is with them. Wonderful. I’m happy for them. Except a few months later, that child isn’t working there anymore. Sometimes I hear there was a problem with management. Sometimes the company wasn’t a good fit. Sometimes there’s very little explanation. Then comes another job. And suddenly this is the amazing opportunity. New company. New position. New stories about how valued and successful they are. And I am apparently required to react as though they’ve just been appointed Secretary-General of the United Nations. Again. Her children are grown adults, and this cycle has been going on for years. I’ve started responding with: “Oh, that’s nice.” Apparently that isn’t enthusiastic enough. She’ll keep explaining until I produce the required level of excitement. Queenie, I love my friend and wish her children well, but how many times must I celebrate the greatest career opportunity of their lives? —Congratulations... Again
Dear Congratulations... Again,
There is a special kind of maternal public relations department that never closes. Every appointment is historic. Every employer is fortunate to have secured the talent. Every resignation is a strategic career decision. And every new job is somehow an even more extraordinary opportunity than the extraordinary opportunity we celebrated four months ago. Your friend is proud of her children. That’s normal. She may also be doing a little storytelling. Parents sometimes describe their adult children’s lives not exactly as they are, but as they desperately hope they are. A child who changes jobs repeatedly becomes: “Very ambitious.” A job that didn’t work out becomes: “They had outgrown the position.” And the latest fresh start becomes: “An incredible opportunity.” Sometimes that optimism is as much for the parent as it is for the audience. So I wouldn’t challenge her narrative. You don’t need to say: “Wasn’t the last job supposed to be perfect?” What would that achieve? But you also don’t have to provide fireworks every time somebody receives a new staff ID. A perfectly respectable response is: “That’s good news. I hope this one works out well for them.” Notice the useful phrase: works out well. Positive. Kind. And carefully resistant to declaring this the professional triumph of the century. Then change the subject. If your friend keeps supplying details, listen for as long as your friendship reasonably requires and then move the conversation along. You aren’t obligated to match someone else’s emotional volume. And remember, your friend may never tire of talking about her children. That’s part of the package. The goal isn’t to stop her from being proud. It’s to stop feeling that every announcement requires you to leap from your chair and shout: “THEY'VE DONE IT AGAIN!” Because at this rate... they probably will. —Queenie
