Part II … continued from yesterday.

Hello again, Craig.

This has gone through three revisions and a bunch of indecision. There’s other stuff I’d like to bung in, but that may just confuse things. So here’s what I reckon is the clearest bit of it.

Part of my response necessarily revolves around the way you come across, i.e. my sense of who you are and what you’ve come from. It’s crucial because I am writing to you as an imagined person; a person who seems to have had a particular group of formative experiences; a person whose formative experiences echo my own, and, I reckon, some of Talia’s. For example, in contrast to Justin Keller’s recent demonisation of the destitute, victimised and feckless, I reckon you have lived around enough hard luck cases to understand their struggles. Not because you lived in a homeless shelter, but because once you got out of it you maintained some sort of appreciation for others in difficult situations. That capacity for compassion and a grounded appreciation of each person on his or her own terms is something I mostly see among people who’ve lived rough, or who’ve worked in that environment. Am I right in thinking that? Is the train of thought reasonably accurate?

Fast forward a bit to the notion of mentoring, or, in your words, developing a relationship with an employer. But think also of the possible employers who wouldn’t give you a look in, or the ones who hire you but then abandon any pretense of caring, to the extent that the top of the food chain has no clue about conditions at the bottom.

Something’s broken there, and I’m thinking you’d have some insight about fixing it. My own notion is that like John Bird and the Big Issue, someone ought to be finding ways to mentor those of us whose career modelling skills are no better than Talia’s. Okay, let me be a bit more proactive here: I can try to invent a mentoring programme based on my understanding of what it’s like to be at the bottom, but I’ve got the ear of exactly zero people. I am not Martha Lane Fox. I am not John Bird. Those people are not me.

I digress.

Talia. Her modelling skills are shit — at least in the world of San Francisco techpreneurialism. As you say, it matters nil why she’s there; the point is to focus on moving forward. But with her modelling skills… it becomes a chicken/egg question. She’s in the wrong place, with the wrong skillset. She can’t fix the latter, and has no basis for going anwhere else.

So think back to the hostel, and how people in that kind of bind managed to break out of some mental or situational rut. Don’t include yourself in that query, because unlike Talia, you had the right kind of nous to do something effective once you’d landed a lucky break. You’ve made it clear that you were capable of applying yourself in ways that moved you forward.

In thinking that Talia can do that too, you’re making the mistake of thinking any of us is as capable as any other. That’s the mistake virtually every negative commentator has made in relation to Talia and her options. But your lived experience tells you otherwise, right? If I’ve read you correctly, you’ll know how different people struggle with different things. You know there’s no point telling Talia to knuckle down and get on with it; that you can’t push the river. If I read her correctly, she can’t take that on at this point. She is who she is. Full stop. And we are bound to take her as she is. Am I right? I reckon you know that, and I reckon it stands in sharp contrast to the thousand bilious commentators who haven’t got a clue about that side of life.

But I bet Talia’s a smart cookie, and that there are plenty of things she can do. So here’s the question: with her shite career modelling skills, what’s the best option open to her? She sees no visible path, let alone an easy one. So I say mentoring has something to do with it. Having someone with a bit of perspective take her in and work with whatever it is she’s got, whoever she is.

Have I got that right?

And you know what? That’s exactly what I wanted for myself for most of my working life. A bit of insight as to what I’ve got to offer, and a bit of guidance around making something of it. So maybe I’m just projecting my own pet theories onto her situation. Or maybe you’ll corroborate what I’m saying to the extent it resonates with you too. It resonates for me.

For some people, what’s needed is not a kick up the backside but an invitation to focus on their existing abilities. How a shite modeller finds that opportunity is beyond me. So, what do we do? If I were Talia I would light the touch paper and retire.

One more point, then I think I can call it done. Back at the hostel, how many other people couldn’t get a look in with an employer? Three or four? In your life since, how many people struggle to get a look in? One or two?

Or is it some other number?

Do you really think that you get luckier the harder you work? Or is that only true for you? Is it largely a fiction promoted by all the desperational types hyping ways of landing that ultra-smooth career?

In Talia’s San Francisco, with the scorched-earth approach to human capital, do you suppose that this trickle-down theory of aspiration is really credible? Or is the mantra of making your own luck just another bit of smoke and mirrors?

Actually, there is one other thing. This whole story isn’t so much about Talia, nor you, nor me. It’s about a situation that is far more common than it should be. Talia has sparked a row, and illuminated a very important set of distinctions. Being destitute in San Francisco is only one of them. There’s a whole pile of cultural ordure to go along with it, and I hope the row provokes some good journalists into examining what’s going on.

If I’ve read you right, some of this will spark recognition. And I’d be keen to read about it.

best,

dp