I’m not trying to sound melodramatic. “Oh, big deal.  You wrote a controversial blog post and some reporter covered it.  Get over it.”  That’s what I still tell myself every time I get that sinking feeling in the bottom of my stomach.  When I think about the event as from an outside, rational view, it doesn’t seem like a big deal.

But to me, it was a huge deal.

Part of what made JobsBlog so special was the candid relationship I had with my readers.  I never sugar-coated things.  I just called it like I saw it.  That’s a rare trait to find in the recruiting and marketing fields, both of which I belonged to in my role at the time.  I knew the minute that I spun something, I’d lose my credibility.

Last April and May, I developed a bad case of writer’s block.  That was mostly due to my schedule.  I was traveling quite a bit, and then in mid-May, I got sick.   I posted 25 uninspired entries during those two months, which was significantly off the mark from previous months.  My readership started to drop a bit.  What’s a blogger to do?

I sat down one day in early June, felt inspired by a topic, and decided to give JobsBlog a jolt.  I remember so clearly writing that post.  It was a sunny Wednesday morning, and I wrote as fast as could – even laughing at my own writing as I typed.  Wow.  This is pretty good, I thought.  I read it through a few times.  I walked away.  I edited it. I laughed some more.  I truly loved it.  And then I posted it.

My readers ate it up.  A lively dialogue erupted, and I remembered why I loved to blog.  Folks around my office read it, and we all got a good laugh.

The next week, I traveled to Orlando for Tech*Ed.  I cut out of the conference a little early to visit the local outlet mall (hey, a girl has got to shop!), and a typical Southern thunderstorm rolled in.  Josh called. 

“Heeey, how’s it going?” he asked. 

“Um, good.  What’s up?”

 “Oh, nothing.  Just leaving Tech*Ed.  Will you be back at the hotel soon?”

 “Yep.  See you soon.” 

And I hung up.   That was weird.   Little did I know, Josh already knew the story hit the front page of Google News.  Apparently, I did not.

I got in the rental car and started driving back toward the hotel.  At a stop light, I synced my email, and immediately a message (sent to a few people, not just me) from a friend and Microsoft colleague popped up.  It was entitled, “Gretchen is on the front page of Google News!”

What?!

Thunder strikes. 

While still driving, I clicked on the link and, as best I could, read snippets.

Oh, crap.

Thunder strikes.

And then I called Josh.  “Ohmigod!  I’m going to be fired!”   

“Calm down.  Calm down.  Just put two hands on the wheel and drive back to the hotel.  I’ll see you when I get there.”

Somehow, with my heart beating in my head, I made it back to the hotel.  I don’t remember anything about that drive.  All I knew is that I needed to get back and boot my computer so I could read exactly what was out there.

Throughout the night, I received many encouraging phone calls and emails from former co-workers … yes, including many former hiring managers … and I even got a few job proposals.  If I was going to lose my job, at least I had other prospects.  But that didn’t comfort me.

What sucked most of all is that my blog entry – A Modest Proposal for my industry, if you will - was completely taken out of the context of my blog’s tone.  My readers knew me.  I liked to write bold statements.  I liked to poke fun at others … and myself ... in a light-hearted manner.  And most of all, I was very, very humble.  As one friend told me, “When I read it, I used my Gretchen voice, and I could totally hear you saying it.”  It made sense to my readers.

Who it didn’t make sense to were all those people who just stumbled across my blog for the first time.  All those who thought a recruiter had lost her mind.  All those who thought I hated my company.  All those who posted in public forums that I was a dumbass and should be fired.  All those who left nasty anonymous comments on my blog.   My goodness, I was the queen of nice in the recruiting blogosphere.  This judgmental, arrogant person they described was not me.

I was just doing my job.  Microsoft encouraged me to be bold and real.  And that’s what angered me the most. 

When I think back now, the only regret I have is how apologetic I was.  The next day - while the wounds were still fresh - I wrote a follow-up post.  As my Dad later told me in his I’m-so-proud-of-my-little-girl speech, I didn’t “pull any punches.”  But I felt like I did.  I said I cried. And so CNET reported that I cried. Gee, thanks.  And some jack-ass reported I apologized.  ( I did not.)  And that my wonderful husband would now sleep on the couch. (He most certainly did not.)  I should have kept my mouth shut in the fall-out.  But now I know.

Over the next several weeks, most of my job focused on responding to each and every one of the thousands of emails I received.  Most were overwhelmingly positive, and Microsoft’s application rate increased.  Several strong candidates told me they would have never applied to the company if not for my post.  I met so many new people – inside and outside of the company – who were glad that my blog and the subsequent coverage sparked people to discuss the real issues facing technical recruiting.  It was cool.

But I also heard lots of negative rumbling.  I kept hearing this one little rumor that the “higher-ups” at Microsoft (?) were not pleased with me.  You never can tell.  It was just hallway chatter, and I was certainly the topic of conversation in Building 19 for a few weeks.  But rumors get to you, and I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that my first seed of inspiration to actually leave Microsoft and found JobSyntax was planted at this time.  I still loved the company, but something seemed amiss with our relationship.  They didn’t fire me, but I felt cut off.  I was putting myself out in the public eye everyday, and I wasn’t sure they had my back.  I’m still not sure they ever did.

In the months that followed, my desire to start this company continued to grow.  Heck, the basis of JobSyntax – bridging the communication gap between software engineers and employers - was the topic of that fateful blog post.  I wrote that post because I didn’t feel like Hiring Manager were educated on the realities of the current technical hiring landscape, and therefore, they weren’t doing a damn thing to help themselves get ahead of the game.  That was my passion on the morning of June 7 when I wrote “The talent landscape, and why I’m ready to lose it,” and it’s a founding principle behind this company.  Education.  Preparation.  Communication.  That’s what it takes.  My message wasn’t permeating the walls of Microsoft, so I decided to take this battle to the street. 

And here I am.  My, how things change in a year.

Looking back, that week in June 2005 was one of the most painful in my life.  More painful than when my childhood cat passed way.  Equally as painful as when my Grandmother passed a few years ago.  I know that sounds so incredibly selfish. I can’t explain it; the situation was just so emotional, personal, and raw.  But at the same time, I do know it’s the best thing that ever happened to my career.  So thanks, Ed Frauenheim.  You took my tone out of context, but you changed my life.  You gave me that kick in the butt I needed for so long.

Zoë asked me what I learned from this experience.  Do I have any advice for fellow bloggers out there, especially those who are blogging for a business?  Did I learn how to post and not be taken out of context?  Or is that just a battle wound you have to be willing to take if you blog?

I do think it’s a risk you have to be willing to take.  I tempered my tone during my final year with JobsBlog in order to avoid future “episodes”, and I began to despise blogging because it just wasn’t fun anymore.  Stuff will happen and you just have to learn to deal.  That’s the way blogging life goes.  My best advice is to act gracefully when bumps occur.  And never ever apologize.

So, I’ll end by quoting the same Dixie Chicks song that began this story.  It just fits.

Well, I fought with a stranger and I met myself
I opened my mouth and I heard myself
It can get pretty lonely when you show yourself
Guess I could have made it easier on myself

But I, I could never follow
No I, I could never follow

gretchen

Current emotion:  closure.  Damn, that feels good.