Peggy Klaus

by Brag!: The Art of Tooting Your Own Horn Without Blowing It

  ALWAYS A WORK IN PROGRESS

  “I may be retired, but don’t count me out!”

  The days of withdrawing to the sidelines and watching the parade go by from your rocking chair or golf cart when you hit your sixties are fading. With people maintaining their health and vitality well into their senior years, many who retire find themselves beating back the boredom blues by going on to second careers or working part time. Even if you’ve relinquished your career or an impressive job title, don’t be so quick to toss out your brag bag. You never know when you might want to do a little—or a lot of—work again.

  June, who was in her seventies, had a three-decade career in the incentive travel industry and had recently retired to enjoy time with her grandchildren, remodel her home, and “finally catch up on all the things I wanted to catch up on for the last thirty years.” Initially she thought her working days were over. But less than eighteen months into her retirement, a company where she had once been employed ten years before contacted her about doing some consulting work to help restructure their in-house incentive travel department. In early contacts with the firm, she was ambivalent about getting involved and initially played down her value to them. When Hank, the company president, first contacted her, she said that she was enjoying her retirement and not sure if an “old granny” like herself had the energy to keep up. Besides, weren’t some of the people who were already working at the firm as qualified for the role as she was?

  Hank wasn’t put off so easily, and June soon realized that she might enjoy this part-time assignment after all. “I remodeled the kitchen. We traveled for a while. I got caught up on all those things I never used to get to, and then life felt a little humdrum. Full retirement is not what I thought it would be,” she said. But in further talks with the firm, she discovered that they were expecting to be able to compensate her far below the going rate. Now that she was interested, she had to dig herself out of the hole she had put herself in by being so self-deprecating in the previous conversations, and make sure that she was not only given the consulting position but also paid appropriately. Once she decided to pursue the job, June switched gears and developed a persuasive bragologue to present her accomplishments and qualifications in a more compelling way. She wrote the president this e-mail:

  Hank, my true value to the company far exceeds my experience in simply arranging travel. I have a reputation with those in the field based on thirty-plus years in the industry, during which time I’ve consistently been in tune with the needs of the sales force. In addition, as you know, I served for many years on the board of our international trade organization and have contacts worldwide. I am certain my expertise will enable you to not only successfully restructure, but also help you to stretch the dollars in your program budget. Given the value of my reputation, my experience, and my connections, I anticipate being compensated for my services at an industry-standard rate. Besides, I am truly enjoying my retirement, and you are going to need to entice me out of it!

  June landed the consulting position and at the rate she wanted. From that time on, she never let her bragologues get sloppy again. Remember, even if you think you’re calling it quits you might be back in the game sooner than anticipated, so keep your bragologues current and crisp.

  BRAG ANYWAY

  “The truth is, I’m not doing anything that would impress anyone.”

  I met Lonnie when we were thrown together as co-chairwomen of a committee for a women’s trade group in San Francisco. For our first meeting, she invited me to lunch at a private club atop one of the city’s most beautiful skyscrapers. While the view was dazzling and the decor impeccable, I was even more impressed with Lonnie. She had a genuine ease about her, gliding through the room, talking with other members seated at the tables. As we ate, she told me the story of her career rise. She knew all the power brokers in the financial community. After our stint as co-chairs, our paths diverged for the next year or so as we plunged back into our routines. About five months ago, wanting to check in with her and see how she was doing, I sent an e-mail to her office. It bounced back. When I called, the number had been disconnected. I started asking around, but no one seemed to know where she had gone. Hmm, curious.

  Two weeks later I was racing through my local Barnes & Noble on a weekday afternoon, when I spotted a Lonnie lookalike. The woman was wearing old blue jeans and sneakers while drinking coffee and flipping through a book, a far cry from the Lonnie I knew, always decked out in an elegant power suit, rushing madly but purposefully from meeting to meeting. Maybe Lonnie had a twin. I inched a little closer to get a better look and then called out her name. She looked up and we squealed with delight at having discovered one another in this unlikely place. As we spent the next hour catching up, she explained why I hadn’t been able to reach her at her work number. “Last November I was sitting in a meeting with my boss discussing our strategy for the upcoming year when something very strange came over me. I don’t know what triggered it,” she said, adding, “I was pretty happy with my life, although I was always looking for ways to have more balance. Suddenly I had the most incredible sense of clarity and realized that I did not want to be working at my job anymore. I was done. I wanted out.”

  “But … I had thirteen years of Catholic-school education, so I am irreversibly humble”

  Hmm. You know, you’re not the only one who has given me that excuse. You’ve got lots of company, and they’re not all Catholics.

  She didn’t tell her boss right away, waiting a few weeks to see if her feelings would change. They didn’t, even after she bounced the idea off some of her more cautious and conservative friends, who asked, “Are you crazy? Leaving at the height of your career in your mid-forties? In the middle of a recession? Bad idea.” Despite the warnings, Lonnie announced her resignation, much to the surprise of her bank colleagues, and has been without a job for over nine months. Although she is increasingly anxious about her situation, she finds herself saying no to the various and sundry headhunters who call trying to lure her back to the old life. So when I asked her, “What are you doing now?” she stammered, replying, “Nothing that would impress you, I am sorry to say.” She continued on about how she had the hardest time answering that question, telling me that as a banker she used to have her story down pat, knowing exactly what she did and what she could do for others. It was easy to talk about. But since quitting, she had spent her time doing nothing particularly exciting to the outside world and found the whole process of explaining herself rather challenging, if not exhausting.

  I told her that her current story, in fact, revealed something quite positive: courage. Although the whole notion of dropping out has lost some of its stigma as the workplace has become more humanized thanks to women, most people only dream of doing what she had done. Further, I loved hearing her tell me about the supposedly mundane activities she had been up to. Knowing about them gave me a much deeper sense of who Lonnie really is as a person outside of her expertise in the financial world. I told her that, as she slowly moved back into the world of networking, she needed to create a bragologue.

  A few days later Lonnie and I met again, this time for dinner. She said, “Peggy, ask me again: ‘What are you doing now?’ “ When I did she surprised me with her new bragologue, which went something like this:

  If anyone had told me this time last year that I would no longer be a banker, and not working in the job I had done for twenty years, I would have said they were nuts. But that’s exactly what happened. Everything was going well in my career—high-end clients, a great boss, fabulous bonuses—but about a year ago, I woke up one day and realized that this part of my life was done. It was so strange because I’ve always been so practical and directed. I went to college, got my MBA, entered the financial world with gusto, worked like crazy, and climbed my way up the ladder. I couldn’t think of doing anything else. Until, however, I experienced a real gut feeling that I was ready to move on. I tinkered with the idea for a while, although at the time I
wasn’t sure what I wanted, just that I knew I didn’t want to do my job any longer. So I resigned! This past year I’ve been doing all the things I’ve wanted to do but couldn’t because of my eighty-hour workweeks. And you know, even on days when I think, “What have I done?” I know I did the right thing and I am grateful that I’ve been able to take this time off. I’ve gone rock climbing, re-landscaped my garden, painted my entire downstairs, taught myself how to reupholster a couch, audited two art history courses, and had lots of meetings with headhunters. I have finally narrowed the field of choice for my next career, and I know I want it to be related to women’s issues, in either the for-profit or nonprofit sector. Right now I’m looking at CEO, COO, or director-of-development positions.

  Of course, this was Lonnie’s full-blown base bragologue. She was planning to adjust it according to whom she was talking to, pulling out bits and pieces here and there, depending on the situation. When she was finished with her bragologue, she looked at me straight in the eye, took a deep breath, and said, “God, I feel better already. I don’t feel like such a shlump!”

  GO BEYOND JUST THE KIDS

  “I had a hard time getting her past the cupcakes.”

  There is not a job on this planet that is harder, demands more talent, or is more important than raising kids. Although only an aunt, both by blood and as a surrogate, I’ve watched and helped as my sisters and friends have raised their kids into extraordinary human beings. And yet many of those who leave the workforce to raise a family often feel like second-class citizens, especially at cocktail parties when people are tooting about their seemingly more exciting endeavors. The cute thing that Johnny said at breakfast or the trip to the emergency room to extract the Cheerio stuck up his nose seems to pale in comparison to an enviable new job, the company’s business win, or the partner’s latest African safari. So what are the bragging basics for today’s “domestic engineers,” especially those who plan on entering the workforce again? Well, you need to go beyond Johnny and talk about yourself: your background, any plans that you have, what you are learning from your stay-at-home position, or other things you might be involved in (community service, hobbies) that make you interesting and memorable. Create a bragologue reflecting what’s so good about your past, present, and future that has less to do with your children and more to do with you.

  Wendy, a high-level client of mine, came to me recently with a problem. One of her firm’s most important customers, Robert, had asked for a favor. His wife had taken time off to care for the children, but was looking for a part-time paid position in the nonprofit world now that her youngest had started school. Robert asked Wendy if she would sit with his wife, Cheryl, at an upcoming corporate dinner they were all going to be attending next month and discuss her qualifications. He was hoping Wendy could recommend her to a few of her contacts in the foundation world. She agreed to talk with Cheryl, and just before the dinner, Robert sent her a recent newspaper article about his wife’s involvement with a group who put together a hospital reading program for children with chronic illnesses.

  The evening of the dinner, Wendy made sure she was seated next to Cheryl, who started the conversation by talking about her day baking cupcakes for her son’s class. She was very proud that, although she was far from being an expert baker, she had done everything from scratch, using only healthy ingredients. Wendy heard about the cupcakes in excruciating detail: how Cheryl had bought organic flour, used pink dye made from beets for the frosting, and decorated the goodies with all-natural miniature marshmallows, which were better than those hard red candies that the little ones might choke on. When Wendy asked her about herself, Cheryl’s response was the equivalent of a footnote: “I grew up in the South, went to a small women’s college in North Carolina, then worked in merchandising in the handbag department of a large department store in Dallas. Before my kids were born, I did some volunteer work with the local hospitals.” It was all so understated that Wendy began to wonder whether she had misheard her client’s request. Cheryl didn’t sound like someone who wanted a job.

  Sensing it had been a long time since Cheryl felt there was anything to brag about in terms of her “outside” activities, Wendy pressed on: “So I hear you’d like to start doing some work with foundations. I read about how successful you were at raising money for the reading program. Can you tell me more about the fundraising work you’ve done?” With a little probing, it all came pouring out: Cheryl’s volunteer work turned out to be quite substantial. Apparently she had quite a knack for soliciting money, and had done so very successfully for several organizations. Beyond the reading program, she had helped raise $15 million for the hospital’s new pediatric wing through individual donors and several fundraising events she had chaired. Cheryl had turned around a local charity for teens on the brink of closing by taking over as board president and writing grant proposals. Her most recent project had been helping her college roommate, now living in rural Maine, raise money for a health clinic. Although Cheryl seemed perfectly able to mentor a friend on foundation grant writing or approach a private donor to ask for millions, she was hard-pressed to tell someone at a cocktail party about her own accomplishments.

  When people, especially women, choose to leave the workforce and become stay-at-home parents, they tell me that they fear losing their identities. Yes, little-Johnny stories are great if you are in the company of others with similar interests and if that’s not all you talk about. But even parents tell me that they get bored with nonstop kiddie talk. So in order to avoid the second-class-citizen treatment in broader social situations, come prepared with bragologues about yourself, not just your kids!

  CHAPTER 8

  When You’re Out on Your Own

  • “He introduced me the wrong way. I was horrified.”

  • “My website is ready, and I’m all set for business.”

  • “It was a stretch even for me.”

  • “I’ve always remembered what she said when we met.”

  • “He was all flash.”

  When you are the company, promoting yourself takes on a whole new meaning. In effect, you have to become a walking billboard for your business (without sounding like one!). Whether you’re a graphic artist, an accountant, a freelance writer, a management consultant, or a software developer, it’s really all the same: You’ve got to brag every chance you get, and that means being ready 24/7. Your livelihood and future, along with all the sweat equity and dollars invested, depend on how good you become at self-promotion, at telling your story in a catchy manner and distinguishing yourself so that you rise above the fray. The bottom line is quite simple: Before you sell anything, you’ve got to first sell yourself in a personal and memorable way.

  Most new business owners that I have met and coached, however, fall victim to brag-fright. While they can go on and on about their products or services, even the most skilled and polished professionals fumble when I ask them to shine the spotlight on themselves—to speak about what they’ve accomplished and how it connects to the services or products they are selling. They are at a loss for words when it comes to articulating the very things about themselves that will differentiate them from the competition, demonstrate their effectiveness, bolster credibility, instill confidence, and personalize their pitch into a message that resonates. They let unchecked brag-fright get in the way of developing the self-promotion approach needed to stand out from the competition and make the deal.

  “But … it’s okay to brag about someone else, just not about myself.”

  That’s a shame, because what you’re really saying is that you’re not as proud of yourself as you are of others or that you aren’t as accomplished as others. If this sounds familiar, then you’ve got some work ahead!

  Further, talk to most entrepreneurs about promotion, and all they see are the dollar signs connected with an advertising campaign, event sponsorship, hiring a fancy publicist, or developing reams of collateral materials. But effective promotion of your business has les
s to do with the amount of dollars spent on expensive marketing campaigns and everything to do with how well you personally communicate your story on a daily basis wherever you go. And I don’t mean repeating what’s written on your website or brochure. Take the time to carefully craft personal and conversational bragologues and brag bites customized to meet a wide variety of situations, both planned and impromptu. Be ready to pitch a prospective client or venture capitalist, talk to a journalist, or spread the word about your company to family, friends, or the guy mowing his lawn down the street! It’s one of the surest ways to maximize your exposure without spending a dime.

  MAKE SURE YOUR FANS GET IT RIGHT

  “He introduced me the wrong way. I was horrified.”

  As any entrepreneur knows, friends and family members can be an important source for contacts and for spreading the word to the outside world about the rising success of your business. But sometimes you need to literally put the right words in their mouths so they will convey the correct message about who you are, what you’re doing, and your successes or goals. One budding entrepreneur I recently coached learned this lesson in a painful and embarrassing way.

  After twelve years Judy had tossed away the New York City rat race and her impressive advertising career for an idyllic country lifestyle in a small New England town. In the advertising world she had risen to the rank of account director, but now she longed to return to her roots as a writer. In fact, she had a degree in journalism and had started her career as a promotional copywriter for a well-established women’s magazine on Madison Avenue. Longer term, she envisioned becoming an author. But in the short run, to prove herself and to make ends meet, she was ready to try her hand at any type of writing. Enchanted with her new countrified lifestyle, and anxious to meet other professionals in her area, she took on some local assignments. She wrote a brochure for a local real estate agency, a quarterly newsletter on fabric care for a large regional dry cleaner, and ad copy for a restaurant.