One of the most awesome parts of my job is that I get to evaluate programmers who want to put on programs at our library system, or go out and search for them on my own.
What’s not always so great is when they come to me, because then I have to try and figure out if they actually are subject experts or trying to secretly sell something (essential oils pyramid schemers, I’m looking at you).
Pre-pandemic, though, I was called up to talk to a guy who wanted to do motivational speaking at our library. He walked in and wanted to know how to talk to me. He had filled out a worksheet we provide for people who want to put on programs, and I’d seen it and promptly ignored it, because he listed no qualifications or previous speaking engagements, attached no resume or speaking/program outline. But he wasn’t going to take my polite silence sitting down, hence a visit to the library.
I met him at circulation and shook his hand, and indicated that we should sit and talk at the armchairs nearby. (For story purposes that will become clear later, I put him in his late sixties, early seventies)
I sat down, and instead of taking the chair next to or across from me, he perched himself on the armrest of my chair. I told him that this was liable to make it tip and that he should sit in his own chair. (Did not mention that it made me rather uncomfortable) Not a great beginning. My work dress was appropriate, but if you had his vantage point right above me, you could see straight down the cleavage.
I asked him to tell me about his public speaking experience, and perhaps outline what he thought would make a great program that people would want to attend.
He launched into his life story, which I won’t detail, but was mostly a STEM background with no speaking experience. I asked him if he’d ever done this before, and he said that he was a manager, so he was used to public speaking. Not quite the same thing, but I could tell he wasn’t done.
I asked him more about what he wanted to speak about, and he started talking about how he wanted to help millennials be successful in the workplace, and how they could start getting jobs, how they could be professional in them, because he realized they were starting out in the job market, and needed some good advice about how to fit into business norms.
“They’re just not professional!” he complained. “The colored hair and the ear piercings and the inappropriate clothing...”
Before he could go on a total Fox News rant, I asked him why he wanted to do this. Sometimes I get sincere answers, sometimes lies, sometimes just blank stares, but it helps me understand a little more about who I’m interviewing.
And this was where he got a little emotional. He revealed that he has a teenage son, and that he’s aware he’s having him later in life, and knows that he won’t be there for all of the big things in his son’s life, and wants his son to remember him as a success. He referred to his son as a millennial.
At this point, I kind of brought things to a halt and told him that the library wouldn’t be hosting his talks. He started to protest, and I told him that if he wanted to host a talk on workplace professionalism, he should probably not start an interview by sitting on the armrest of a chair currently occupied by someone. I also noted that I was a millennial, that most of our generation was in our late twenties and mid-to-late thirties, and had been in the workplace for some time - additionally, that his son was Gen Z, not a millennial.
But so as not to end it on a down note, and because I could tell he was really hurting over his son, I recommended that if he wanted to make his son proud of him, he spend time with his son and tell him about the things he had accomplished, but mostly, to spend time with him now.
He looked a bit shook, but seemed to take it in, shook my hand, and left. I hope they’re doing okay.









