Don’t Box Me In

In nearly every job interview I’ve ever had, I’ve been asked “Where do you want to be in five years?” The lone exception was the guy who, instead, asked me how far I’d be willing to go to help the boss (him) de-stress. I sat there, stunned into silence, while he sipped his drink and formed his next question. I like to imagine that, if I hadn’t bolted out the door, his next question would have been, “Where do you want to be in five years?”

“Living off the huge settlement from the sexual harassment suit,” I would have replied.

The five-year question, I suppose, is designed to reveal a couple of crucial things without asking directly: will you still be here or will you quit after we spend six months training you? Are you serious about your career or is it a stopgap until you go to grad school or get pregnant? Are you so ambitious that everyone will need to watch his back? (Here’s the tipoff: the job applicant answers, “I want to have YOUR job in five years.”)

Years ago, I was asked the question during an interview for a job I desperately wanted and I blurted out, “I have no idea.” The interviewer laughed and then fell silent. To fill the dead air, I started babbling about how I loved to learn, was always seeking out new projects, and preferred the excitement of not having a prescribed path. 

I didn’t get the job. Perhaps the interviewer interpreted my answer as meaning I had no direction and never finished anything. As it turns out, the job would have been a terrible fit–the boss definitely did NOT want a creative thinker–but the interview was like a therapy session.

In subsequent interviews, I answered the question the same way, but explained better how my type of non-linear thinking might actually benefit their organization. I could have told them what they wanted to hear (“Making a solid contribution to your company’s bottom line!”) but I could never fake enthusiasm without choking on it. Besides, do you want somebody to hire you based on a lie? It’s bad enough to start a romantic relationship like that, people — don’t let it happen in the workplace.

If you asked me today where I want to be in five years, I might say something like, “I want to be happy, healthy, and still laughing every day with Keeper. Oh, and I’d like to finally be finished remodeling the kitchen.”

Only after these wishes were expressed would I start enumerating professional goals, like seeing my column published in papers all over the country, launching a successful business helping people tell their life stories, and publishing a second book.

Sure, I’ll do some planning and work hard, and these things will happen…or they won’t.  Maybe my life will take a different direction. I have no idea. And that’s just how I like it.