I have way more experience and skills than I sometimes let on, which reveals how people really are

I have a lot of work experience, and of course, I've made mistakes along the way (which I've learned from, so it's not all been in vain). I've also traveled to many countries, lived abroad, worked in all kinds of situations, been to all parts of Chicago, and have met hundreds of people. I am educated, with a bachelor's and master's degree, and have taken several classes in addition to that formal education. I also read books and articles in at least a few languages (for which I often use dictionaries), and write pretty consistently. In other words, I'm qualified to do a variety of jobs, and if I don't have such experience, I'm able to learn how to get a job done. I have good references, and even when I've wanted to drop a job, some people have convinced me to stay. Even if they don't explicitly say that they like having me on board, their responses have shown that they think I'm a valuable worker.

The reason why I'm saying all this is because sometimes I put myself in a situation that I am over-qualified for, and that is totally fine with me. I don't need to do high-level jobs, and I don't have to associate with people who have the education and experience I have. I actually like people and like learning in all kinds of situations, even if I know that I could do more. Yet I choose to not always go for the top. I started taking that approach several years ago, and I stuck with it because it's a good way to learn about people and to keep myself humble, because one day I'm going to "make it," and I want to keep it real; I don't want to forget where I came from and who helped me along the way, whether the person was in a privileged position or the lowest one. People's value does not come from what they do but who they are. I've met amazing, smart people who barely made it through high school, and have interacted with dim-witted jerks who have achieved everything our society values. 

If the virus had never happened, I'd still be working at one of the lowest-level jobs I've done in recent times. It was at a fitness center in a university, and the reason why I did it was because I spent many hours in front of a computer challenging my mind or meeting tight deadlines, and I wanted to do something mindless and more physical, where I would never sit. It was probably the least important job in the whole place, and I was one of only a few non-students doing it. When I first applied, I felt sort of weird about it because I'd been going there for a few years as a member, and I wondered if I was perhaps affecting my reputation or worth, whatever that means. But then I thought who cares, I'll do it. I had to do something that had nothing to do with computers or words or audio or pressure, and I liked going there, especially very early in the morning. I'd get there before the doors opened, write in my fake blog or work on my novel, and then I'd walk in and clean, organize weights, and give people towels. I thought it would just be for a couple months in the summer when a lot of the students were gone and the place needed extra help, but I stayed on for almost two years, until the virus closed places and limited our activities.

What was interesting was that while I first felt self-conscious because I was doing that job and a lot of the people coming in were academics or accomplished community members, I eventually didn't care and just did my job. I eventually met some of the regulars, and found out that some of them knew people I knew, and they were decent people. Most people had no idea what I did outside of that place, and I didn't feel judged or looked down-upon by most of them. I was impressed that before they even knew about my experience, etc., they were decent people who liked all kinds of people, and didn't elevate certain types above others. That's how it should be. 

One day, someone I'd often played tennis with at that center was surprised to see me working there, and I could almost seem them wincing. They're the type of person who associates with others like them, financially and culturally, and probably no one they knew would play tennis with a certain strata of people while having a job that included pushing loads of towels into an industrial washing machine. For a second I felt sort of ashamed, but then I thought hey, at least I'm doing something that takes me out of my Gold Coast existence. 

I think life is an adventure, and if we limit ourselves to what we "should" do, we're missing out on seeing how a lot of the world lives. But unfortunately, some people aren't so open or understanding.

My longstanding habit of doing jobs that are on different parts of the skillset/socially acceptable spectrum is not always understood or appreciated by others I work with. And it is when I experience such friction that I wish I would have explicitly told people what I have actually accomplished, and what I can do. While my bosses at the recreation center were absolutely fantastic (another reason why I didn't want to quit) and did not judge me on my desire to do something that is way below my ability level, other folks in other situations have maligned me and have treated me as "the help"--I have written about that when referring to broadcasters' attitudes, but it can apply anywhere, where higher level people treat lower level people with disdain. As I've stated before, I made the mistake of not talking about my writing experience at a gig I'd just started, which I'm pretty sure tarnished my reputation. I should have told the better paid, more senior worker exactly what I'd done, but because their question was laced with judgement and scorn, I chose not to reveal my qualifications, as if to not give them the satisfaction of knowing who I really was. 

And that's another habit I've developed over the years. Perhaps because I went through a lot of rejection and failure, I learned to not reveal much, then over-deliver or surprise people, or just not say much because there's no point in trying to "prove" myself. But when those people are not simpatico or are quick to judge and nitpick, then it can create a horrible experience to the point that I want to retreat. Sometimes if someone is being unreasonable, I will say that what I'm doing is not easy, and not a lot of people can do it as well as I can, or say that I have a lot of experience and don't want to be treated badly. A couple smart, self-aware people have apologized and changed their approach so that I wouldn't quit, but others have just plowed ahead and have been high maintenance and at times abusive. 

Being underestimated because I haven't boasted about my accomplishments and talents, in addition to not mentioning superior people whose admiration and endorsements I pretty much have for life, has backfired at times, because petty people have formed opinions that they feel justify substandard treatment. On some occasions, they've been dumbfounded to discover that I can actually do more than they assumed, and have actually changed. In one organization, some people pretty much ignored me until I did some presentations and they saw that I actually knew more than they'd assumed, and had done more varied jobs than they had, which helped my reputation. In another place, one person barely acknowledged me for a while until...I don't know what happened, but suddenly they were complimenting me and gave me a reference. In that case, my modesty paid off, but other times it has not, and I continue to be misunderstood and maligned, which really has made me wonder if some pursuits are worth it.

But thanks to those who've given me a chance, despite not knowing the extent of my experience, and even my real age (since many folks think I'm younger than I actually am).

Why I like teaching ESL at Daley

I've been wanting to write this post for a while, but I didn't want to sound like I was trying to score points with anyone. But I figure since I'll be staying at home for a while (when not going to work or appointments or the gym--all places that are clean and where masks and social distancing are required), I might as well write about the topics that piled up while I was busy interacting more with the world. 

I've been teaching English as a Second Language (ESL) to adults at Daley College (one of the City Colleges of Chicago) on Chicago's southwest side for 13 years (and it will be 14 in January if I get another class to teach next semester), and overall, it's been a good experience. I won't get into details about the issues there, and if you know me offline, you've heard some of the "interesting" stories about that place. Let's just say it's not the most stable, well-run organization around, thus my appreciation of it has nothing to do with how it's set up. And it's not even located in such a stellar area, nor are the buildings that clean. For instance, I used to teach in dilapidated, small buildings that I think were originally built to be temporary, where mice sometimes roamed (and one turned up dead), the air wasn't fresh, and if there was air conditioning, it took over an hour to activate. Then I moved into the main building, where someone told me garbage still remains (I haven't been to the school, or the South Side, since March). 

I've been teaching online, which isn't as enjoyable as in-person, but is still a positive experience. First of all, the students are wonderful. Most of them are Spanish-speaking (I don't speak Spanish though I love it and translated Spanish into English for some years, including when I started this blog), and others come from Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Africa. In 13 years I have rarely had any issues with students; they are so nice and interesting, work hard, and are appreciative of what they and their kids have been able to do here (which is a subject for another post: what I've learned ambition really is). 

My coworkers are also generally cool. Of course, not everyone is awesome, but no place is perfect. But what sets apart Daley from other places I've worked is that I can always find someone to talk to if I'm having issues, or if I just want to chat. In fact, when I first started working there, I was working in a toxic place (which would be a great candidate for Robert Sutton's excellent, must-read book, The Asshole Survival Guide [whose advice I wish I'd followed years ago]), and once a week, I got a chance to work with friendly people instead of mean ones. I would tell some of my work buddies what I was experiencing during the week, and they couldn't believe it, and shared my astonishment that there are places tolerate such behavior. And while other workplaces might have people who try to backstab or say mean things about each other, or falsely accuse others, I haven't experienced that in all the years I've been at Daley. Yes, people have made disparaging comments, but in general, I don't feel like I have to walk on eggshells or walk around avoiding landmines. 

One of the many reasons why I like teaching immigrant adults is because of the interesting experiences they have. They have gone through a lot to come to this country, and they have a great work ethic. What's inspiring is how they always find a way to get things done, find work, and help their kids succeed. One time I was talking about an area of the South Side that is fine on the eastern side of a north-south street, but is pretty dangerous west of that street. I thought the students would think of avoiding that area, but a student said that they had sold ice cream in that western area and generated more sales. What they discovered is that all kinds of people in that area, including the gangbangers and their families, like ice cream, have parties, and want to eat something tasty after they smoke certain substances. Another student showed us where they work in an even more dangerous area of the South Side (I'm not being specific because I don't want to malign any South Side neighborhoods, nor perpetuate the already-negative stereotypes of the South Side), and said they wait for drug deals to clear out before they get into their car to drive west to the southwest suburb where they live. 

Basically, some students do jobs or live and work in areas that many people wouldn't want to be, and their perseverance is inspiring. Also, since I don't live on the South Side (never have, and probably never will), I get to find out things about the area that are not covered in the media or elsewhere. And it's not just positive stories that are overlooked but negative ones, too, such as why the virus has probably spread in the area where Daley is located (right now, the most cases are on the southwest side of Chicago). 

It's also interesting to find out where the students come from. I've learned a lot about other countries, and I've also learned about students' lifestyles. At one point, after noticing that the students have a great work ethic, I asked them if they helped out around their homes, or what they did as kids in addition to going to school. Most of them grew up doing chores and odd jobs, including helping their elderly relatives. Because they grew up working in some way, that lifestyle and attitude have helped them as adults, which explains why they find ways to thrive rather than sit around and complain. They see and seek out opportunities that others might not see or care about, and I never get tired of hearing about what they're doing. It shows me that anything is possible, even when it seems like there aren't many options.

Because the economy and educational situation are not stable or predictable, I have no idea if I will continue to teach adults ESL, and in the past, I sort of didn't care (I have like four or five other jobs, depending on what is available). There were times when I would drive up South Pulaski late at night to go to the expressway to get home, very tired, wondering why I was going all that way to teach at a dusty school in a gray neighborhood. Then a student, or my supervisor, would tell me that I'm doing a good job, and some students would tell me that I'm a nice person or that they like my class. Last week, some students said they think I'm a good teacher. When comparing that feedback with the little or no feedback I get at other jobs, it's really appreciated, which helps to motivate me. A lot of times I'm just getting work done and have no idea what people think, other than they're glad I'm meeting deadlines or showing up to get the job done. Approval and recognition can go a long way, especially in an increasingly isolating world. 

And finally (I think I've been able to remember all the points I wanted to make), I don't have to fake introversion at all. As I've said before on this blog, I am not introverted but have had to fake it for years because it's the best way to integrate and survive the introverted world. When I walk into the school after a week of staying silent or subdued, it's great to chat with the fantastic security guards, then speak loudly and openly with some of my coworkers. Then I see the students, who are so nice, and I end up having a great day. It's basically an experience of belonging and freedom, which equals fun. 

Interview with Roger Badesch: author of "The Unplanned Life"

Roger Badesch, who I interviewed almost a decade ago for my podcast (when WGN Radio was still in the Tribune Tower), has written a really good autobiography called The Unplanned Life that is descriptive and interesting, and really got me choked up towards the end; I'm still thinking about how his busy life has included incredible challenges, including his cancer and his wife's health issues as well. He's worked in media, communications, and education, and taught in one of the toughest areas of Chicago, where he obviously made a huge impact, despite difficult circumstances and unfair workplace politics (and that was after he'd already worked in a toxic company and other drama-filled schools). 

Below is an interview I did with him about writing, and he elaborates about the experiences he described in his book:

• How did you get the book done?

I had a lot of difficulty with motivation. As I mentioned in the beginning of the book, I never thought my story was interesting enough to tell, let alone write in book form. I’m no one special. My only claim to any sort of recognition is that I’m on the radio. I still feel that without that, my story, like so many million other life stories, would go untold. 
 
Everyone has a different motivation. Given my belief that I was on a fool’s mission trying to write the book, my motivation had to exist in near perfect—no interruptions, no computer issues, no guilt that I had more important things to do. It was a serious struggle for me. Normally I only found those conditions right one or two days a week for only about three or four hours a day.
 
And it became more difficult to finish sooner than later when I’d run into an issue with memory. Often I remembered the incident but I couldn’t verify the situation or condition or even the time of day.  
 
For example, I spent several days at the Evanston Library looking through old issues of the Evanston Review from the early 60s trying to find mention of the accident where I was hit by a VW bus on Asbury. The memory of the accident is still so vividly etched in my mind but I wanted to be accurate on the date and time to give it context—and to fill in those bits of memory lacking in my recollection of the event.
 
I never did find the information as those issues of the Review were not on microfiche or easily searchable. I’d already gone to the Evanston Police to ask, but they said records from back then don’t exist. 

• How did you figure out what to cut from the original manuscript?

Much of what I cut was easy to do—a lengthy detailed description of every inch of our home in Evanston being one.
 
Plus, now that the book was finished, I felt I now had a focus for the book—it wasn’t about me. It’s about a regular person who has gone through things everyone else has gone through.  
 
The only difference, as I’ve mentioned, is that I’m on a pretty big radio station and more people know of me than they would some regular, everyday guy from Chicago.
 
That put the purpose of the book in perspective for me. So anything in the first draft that didn’t enhance that feeling, that emotion, that experience, had to go. 

• Why did you decide to include Facebook posts instead of just writing a narrative? 

Putting my Facebook posts in book form was my original idea after I was approached to write my book.
 
I’ve used Facebook over the years to write lengthy expressions of my feelings and experiences and I felt I’d already written a book.
 
But when I had to actually sit down and start putting a book together, I felt that much of the context for those posts was missing. Plus, my publisher encouraged me to tell a fuller story than what I’d hinted at with those Facebook posts. 
 
That’s why you see so many of them starting in the teaching chapter. I didn’t join Facebook until about 2009 and didn’t start posting on Facebook recollections of my earlier life until much later.

• I noticed that your writing style for much of the book is factual (recounting facts) more than reflecting or giving an assessment of the experiences; was that intentional?

Good question. Not really intentional. Again, for much of the first part of the book, I still lacked focus of the overarching purpose of the book.  
 
I felt that the publisher wanted me to write about what I’d done in life—”you’ve had a very interesting life” is something he said and that I’ve heard from others over the years.
 
Again, I wasn’t convinced that it was anything more than interesting conversation. But then I went back and read the comments to many of my Facebook posts, especially those from when I was going through my cancer. And I think the tone of the book hits its peak in that section—I’d started to come in touch with my humanity, my purpose in life when I became a teacher.  
 
That period of time found me suddenly learning more about myself than any other time of my life. I was using so much more of my experiences and thoughts about life with my students than I had in any other job.
 
I’m not sure if I adequately conveyed in the earlier chapters about how alone I felt growing up because I feel I embraced my “aloneness,” I accepted it, and learned how to live within it.
 
So, opening myself up to examination and judgement as a teacher as I tried to motivate my students was a huge moment in my growth as an individual. I think that’s why you notice a shift in tone in the book.

• Why did you feel alone? 

I think that many more people than we think have grown up "alone." There’s a distinction between growing up alone and feeling lonely.
 
In my case, as the youngest, with both parents working, with my brother being six years older than me, I always felt left to my own devices. Thinking about it now, all three of the kids were pretty much left "alone"—but not in a bad way.
 
Both of our parents worked after we moved to Evanston. To make sure the kids could carry on without constant supervision, we were taught (read: made to do) how to do everyday things: cook, clean, sew, yard work, fix things, and so on. I think (without any scientific evidence at all) that most of the "boomer" generation went through this—our parents wanted us to be able to be self-sufficient in order to better make our way in the world. 
 
But I think being the youngest and with few friends, I felt more comfortable being alone—reading, hitting rocks in the alley with my White Sox baseball bat, skating at the neighborhood outdoor ice rink by myself instead of joining neighborhood kids in a hockey game, going to movies by myself instead of meeting up with friends. It was kind of a conscious choice as opposed to circumstances.
 
Those times when I was in groups I felt awkward, lacked self-confidence—to be able to carry on a conversation, share similar likes and dislikes, dance (if there was a dance party), speak my mind. 
 
I think that for many young people those feelings exist as they make their way through life. But their feelings of "alone" may be triggered by other circumstances than what I experienced. Maybe my having gone through such feelings made me more empathetic to students I felt were going through similar things. While I had to teach an approved curriculum, I found it more important to make sure the student was in the right frame of mind to want to learn.  

• What's your writing advice? 

Oh, I’m not one to give advice on writing. Seriously. I can give advice on writing a news report for radio. But for writing a book—I’m still clueless. Honestly. 
 
I know I can write, and I have a bunch of ideas. I have a couple of stories from several decades ago that I started, but I’ve lacked the confidence to complete them. Maybe in a few years, if I’m still alive, I’ll feel like I’m in a place in my life where I CAN just sit down anytime, anyplace and just write without self-judgement.

• Why weren't you a good student?

Probably several reasons—most of which never got analyzed. The main reason I think was not being able to read long passages because I probably needed glasses early on. I kept falling asleep from what was later diagnosed as eye strain. And, to be honest, not everything interested me in school. I think, without understanding it, I learned that I wasn’t going to need to use a lot of what was being taught. I tried to learn what I needed to learn in order to pass. And I had “test-phobia”—probably from a fear of being judged, being compared to my older brother, who was brilliant. I wasn’t a good test-taker.

• Why did you feel like your dad didn't respect you?

It took me a long time to understand my father. He was a very strong-willed person, even as a boy, and that carried through his war years and afterwards. He was always in charge and required everyone to do their part. It wasn’t until after I got married that I realized I was the same way—like father, like son? I think it was more of me emotionally pulling away from him, to search for and set my own course, that caused much of the difficulties between us over the years. But when I became a teacher and, even more so, when I got the job at WGN Radio, I sensed an opening up on his part and a sense of pride that he allowed to show publicly. Plus, I think that he saw my brother, Rick, in me when I went to work at the radio station—something Rick really loved doing at SIU [Southern Illinois University] before he was killed. 

• Sounds like you went with the flow in your life, in terms of career, and it worked out. Did you "plan" to go about work that way, or did you have professional goals?

Honestly, I didn’t have a plan at all. There were things I wanted to do—kind of like a bucket list—but it changed with the wind. It would even change day to day sometimes. Often I’d get a feeling at a job that either I didn’t have anything else to prove, or to make better, or that the winds of change were coming through and it was time to move on. Mix into that was my commitment to my family which changed the longer we were married. At first I felt I had to be a workaholic, again taking after my dad, I guess. But as our relationship and family grew, my views of family and personal life changed, so, often, my jobs changed. Unfortunately, since graduating college I’ve never had a job where you clock in and out and don’t take the job home with you. The majority of my responsibilities at these jobs were middle-management requiring outside hours of supervision or preparation—and that cut into family time. 

• How did you get all those jobs? Seems like you went from one thing to another easily (eventually).

There were a few gaps, one that had us literally going without for weeks at a time because we had no money until the first of the month—this was the period between leaving Gloria Jean’s and going back to school. I had started my own public relations company and only had a couple of clients. But I was pretty much a stay-at-home dad at that point. I remember having to run over to drop stuff off for a client one night and had both kids with me as Bridget was working nights. I asked the doorman of the building to watch the kids while I ran in. He did, and the kids were fine. I think maybe they were 11 and 1. It was very stressful during that time. But, for the most part, it was a matter of being in the right place at the right time—might even call it dumb luck. I’ll also add to that the following: having a good reputation and knowing the right people at the right time. 

• Was there corruption in the City of Chicago departments when you worked there? Sounds like CPS (Chicago Public Schools) was more corrupt than the mayor's office. 

I never knew of any corruption at City Hall. I was too involved in doing my job and trying to serve the public. I know that sounds “pie-in-the-sky,” but I actually believed that. There were a lot of people like me working for the city government trying to do their jobs and provide for their families, AND do good for the public. It’s the somewhat jaded reporter in me (and the political science minor college student) who tries to “follow the money” and has come to the belief that governments always seem to have more money than they know what to do with but always seem to be broke. Makes me go “hunh?” And I’m not sure about CPS and corruption, though there are more than enough news stories about such things. 

One of my jobs teaching Radio-TV at Vocational [Chicago Vocational Career Academy] (as was the job of all vocational teachers throughout the system) was to put together a shopping list of equipment we needed each year. The funds for equipment came from the federal government jobs training programs. We had to use the “approved” CPS vendors unless what we wanted was only available through a sole source vendor. You’ve heard stories about things like a $1,000 screw that the military buys? I had to deal with the same thing with the approved vendors. But instead of playing their game, I was like Captain Kirk and the Kobayashi Maru exercise—I figured legal ways around the requirements and was able to get a “bigger bang for the buck” in equipment and other needs in building the best equipped Radio-TV program in the system. 

• What was Mayor Washington's "kitchen cabinet;" what does that mean?

I think every “leader,” be it local, national, or internationally, has a small group of friends or family that helps the leader with advice and maybe even helping to “move mountains.” This small group stays behind the scenes, usually out of the public view, and is often not elected officials, though they do get in the mix at times. That’s a kitchen cabinet—named so, I imagine, for their private meetings at someone’s home sitting around a kitchen table eating, having drinks, whatever. When Mayor Washington was in office, I’d read news stories or watch the TV news and sometimes read about or see pictures or video of some of the members of his “kitchen cabinet.” The names escape me now, but I do remember that I recognized about half of those sitting in the front room the night I put together the stereo system as being among the “kitchen cabinet.”

• Why did you still keep working for a toxic company and toxic school? Or was that common in your career?

Yeah, I’ve noticed that too over the years. I think it was because I was so focused on doing the best job I could, doing the right thing, that I was able to excuse the atmosphere and work for little successes. But over the years, in nearly each job I left, the “atmosphere” became too overwhelming—affecting my job performance, my family life, my mental health. I still haven’t analyzed myself for an answer to that character trait.  

• Did having cancer make you believe in God more? How have you stayed strong, including your wife's ordeal? She sounds incredible.

Now you’ve hit a really deep subject. I continue to try to analyze how I reacted to that phase (which I still consider myself to be in). Bridget comes from a fairly religious Irish Catholic family. One of her close aunts was a nun (and a very cool person!). So, though she hasn’t gone to church in quite a while, the beliefs and ways to live one’s life are firmly ingrained in her. And my upbringing reflects that too, as I wrote at the beginning of the book, about knowing the difference between right and wrong. 

No, having cancer didn’t make me believe in God any more than I already did. I believed, had to believe, in my doctors and the love of my family. Some would say that God was working through the doctors and the love I felt is God’s love—I’m okay with that. But that’s not what I was thinking. I spent a lot of time asking tons of questions, doing lots of research, and trying to “get my head straight” for the treatment and life after. I’ll be honest, I was scared. Scared I wouldn’t see anyone anymore. Scared that things would end on the operating table. But I didn’t, couldn’t, let it overwhelm me. 

It was in my nature to stay positive. It may have harkened back to my childhood where I was pretty much left to my own devices. I had to learn how to take care of myself to survive. I learned early on how to analyze situations and figure out the best course of action—I think that mindset really helped me through the treatment, surgery, and now afterwards. Did I, do I, like it?? He’ll no! Who in their right mind would like to go through that—to go through what I have to now, with an ostomy system that needs replacement every four days. But, just like all those jobs where I’ve had to get used to the “normal,” I’ve gotten used to this normal.  

You’ve asked about Bridget—we’re a good team because I like taking care of people and she likes being taken care of. But don’t let that fool you—she’s got that country can-do spirit in her (she was born in rural Illinois and spent summers on family farms). And she’s always looking on the bright side of life. I know it sounds “hokey,” but it’s true. Both of us keep plugging through—helping each other as best we can and accepting help from our family and friends when needed. 

• How could you eat all the rich food when you were battling illness? 

Well, on certain days going through chemo, I had to be really careful about what I ate. Early on, I didn’t fully understand how the drugs would affect me physiologically, but I learned quickly. And when I could “stomach” richer foods, it was out of comfort that I’d eat them—comfort foods that would cheer me up, make me feel good. Even Jello.

Unfortunately, I don’t eat well naturally—very few, if any, vegetables and fruits—mainly what would be classified as junk food. Over the years our bodies change, and some foods we couldn’t stand as kids we eat now, and some foods we couldn’t get enough of as kids we can’t eat now. For example, I grew up on hamburgers—any chance I had I’d eat a hamburger. If not hamburgers then steaks—sirloin, skirt, tenderloin, whatever. Nowadays, my body tells me it doesn’t handle meat very well. When I splurge on skirt steak (a comfort food), I do it fully, accepting the consequences. Being raised on rich Jewish cooking as a kid, I now welcome them as comfort food—so while I was recovering each week from a chemo treatment, a bowl of chicken soup with kreplach or a matzo ball was very comforting, filling and, shall we say, non-invasive.

Guest post: How I Turned My Language Skills Into a Business and Career

Note: I was contacted by someone from the translation agency Tomedes Ltd to see if I'd be interested in posting an article of theirs. We went back and forth for several months, and I was either too busy or not interested in what they had to offer (I wasn't being snobby, but it seemed like some articles weren't a good fit). But when they sent me this article by their CEO and founder, Ofer Tirosh, "How I Turned My Language Skills Into a Business and Career," I figured it would probably be interesting for language fans and translators. I haven't posted something by a guest in several years...hope you enjoy it!

I see a lot of people online learning about how to do translation or discussing ways to improve their translation skills. 17 years ago, I wanted to improve my freelance translation skills in order to take my career to the next level. Since then, I’ve gone from working as a freelance translator to running a translation agency that serves clients around the globe. I’m hoping that my story – of how I turned my language skills into a business – will inspire others to do the same. 

Moving from Freelance Translation to Running a Business

Nearly two decades ago, I found myself with no way to make a living. Remembering this seems especially poignant right now, given the vast economic impact of the COVID-19 pandemic. 

My personal situation meant that I needed to find a way to make money. I’ve always loved languages, so they were my focus in terms of building a career. 

I realized quickly that freelance translation was the career for me. That meant I was faced with a choice – to be the best freelancer that I could be or take my language skills and values and try and turn them into a business. I opted for the latter. 

It’s funny to look back now, having since published the ultimate guide to freelance translation in order to help others on their journey, and remember how much I still had to learn when I first established Tomedes as a translation agency. Even now, I’m still learning.

My focus was on three areas: outstanding translation, customer care, and embracing tech. With these in mind, I began to build my translation business. 

How to Build a Translation Business 

To build a translation business, you need clients and you need translators. Simple, right? Well, not quite…  

How many translators are there in the world? According to the Translators Association of China, there are around 640,000. Around one in four of them works as a freelance translator. As such, there’s plenty of freelance translation expertise available to those looking to establish a business. 

The problem is that you have to make sure that you find the right network of freelance translators – not just translators who work with the languages your clients need, but those with relevant subject matter knowledge as well. 

I put a LOT of time and effort into building up that initial network of translators. Not only did I need to find suitably experienced linguists, I also needed them to share my belief in delivering outstanding customer care. My initial induction process was basic, to say the least, but it did lay out the principles of service delivery that Tomedes’ clients could expect, which we still remain true to. 

Finding Translation Clients

Of course, building a network of translators was only half the work. I also had to find clients. 

My marketing efforts were intensive. I reached out to potential clients in every way imaginable. It was hard work, it was time-consuming, and it completely paid off. I managed to bring in enough work to show my new network of freelance translation professionals that I was serious. 

Naturally, there was some scrambling to ensure I had the right expertise in the right dialect back in those early days. Thankfully, the advent of social media worked in my favor. Just as I was discovering how important it was to maintain connections around the world when you move from being a freelance translator to running a translation company, technology was making it easier than ever to connect over the internet. 

I embraced the evolving tech. I still do, to this day. I don’t believe that technology can replace the skill and nuance that human translators deliver, but it can certainly help them translate more efficiently. 

Running a Translation Company Isn’t Just About Translation

Over the years, I learned just how much admin is involved in running a business. All those tasks that you don’t receive direct payment for – recruiting translators, marketing, finances…the list goes on and on. It’s a reality of running a successful enterprise. 

That meant I had to put structures in place to deliver the company management while still keeping translation costs reasonable. I took a remote-first approach, meaning that staff could work from home, keeping office costs to a minimum. It allowed me to run a slick, lean organization. 

Technology helped here too. From the increasing use of email to faster broadband, I used everything available to help grow my business. I was an early Voice over Internet Protocol (VoIP) adopter, meaning that I could connect with clients and translators far more easily. I read recently that VoIP business lines in the US shot up from 6.2 million in 2010 to 41.6 million in 2018. Embracing this kind of technology definitely helped me grow my business faster and more smoothly. 

My advice for anyone considering going from freelance translator to business leader: embrace technology, but also focus on customer care no matter how big your empire grows. Plenty of people provide freelance translation. In my opinion, it’s those who really empathize with their clients’ needs and go out of their way to meet those needs who will be most likely to turn their passion for language into a successful business. 

I managed to totally finish a novel, seriously

I keep rewriting and deleting and rewriting this post because I'm trying to capture the incredible satisfaction I feel after truly finishing writing a novel! I started about a year ago, and I ended up writing three drafts...by the end of the third, I really felt like I had taken it as far as it could go. Then I asked a couple of people who are part of my target audience to read it, and they actually read the entire thing and gave me comments. So now I'm working on putting in more changes, but it's taking me a while because I'm letting too much of the world get into my brain. 

I don't want to talk about the drama going on where I live (I've been venting with a few trustworthy people), but it's been hard to get into fiction land. But that shouldn't be an excuse because I was able to push through whatever was going on to finish the book, and amazingly, I was satisfied with just that--finishing the book.

When I started this blog, I thought that the only way to be satisfied was to get published. Why would I enjoy simply writing something that probably wouldn't see the light of day? But I hadn't been so committed before. I wrote stuff and finished drafts, and did Nanowrimo a bunch of times, but I never decided to really finish it to the best of my ability. 

Then last year, after fake blogging for a while and doing a bunch of stuff that involved getting tasks done and not much creativity, I decided to really write a book and revise it. I wanted to give up or got super-lazy along the way, but I overcame my self-defeating thoughts and did the first draft, then the second, and then the third. I was sidelined by various responsibilities and worries, but what got me through was the isolation of work, and the need to connect with the world I was building that was more exciting than what I was experiencing. I ended up writing and rewriting at home, in cafes, and even at work during breaks. I could see the end, and I was going towards the finish line, and I couldn't believe it. When I wrote the final words (or rewrote, depending on what was needed), I felt awesome! I felt like I had just run a huge marathon and was incredibly excited and satisfied. I did it! And that was a reward in and of itself...it was?? 

It was the first time during my years-long pursuit that I stopped being a wannabe and dreamer, and actually got down to business. Before, I wanted to gloss over the process and get it done and miraculously get an agent and some kind of creative future. But this time I really just worked and thought about the story progression and the characters and if it flowed. And whenever I wrote, it was very satisfying and I felt free, separated from the mediocre world I was living in.

Now I have to finish making the changes that the reviewers suggested, and I have to find an agent. But even if I don't get one (and I hope I do, and want my efforts to lead to something greater), just finishing the book is enough. And I totally mean it, which is seriously different from the kind of attitude I've had for years. I thought I wasn't "worth" anything, or better said, what I created wasn't worth anything unless there was a public audience. But the creation is worth something, and getting it done is worth a ton. The feeling of accomplishment is amazing and it is true, that if you set goals and achieve them, it's very rewarding. 

When I first finished, as I said, I was elated, but then I felt deflated. All that work was done. Now what? While I was waiting for the beta readers to respond, I didn't write any fiction because I thought I was "finished." But I kept feeling more irritated and restless, and only had the real world to deal with. So I wrote more fiction, and I'm already thinking about what I want to do for the next book (I already wrote drafts of some books but need to commit to actually finishing them). I have a few solid ideas that are in the same kind of genre and I think I can finish them, too.

So now I have to do the tedious work of integrating the beta readers' ideas and then proceed to the real world, where I'll most likely experience rejection and/or silence. But whatever happens, I know that I finished what I started, which has value in and of itself.

Having a great time with Suivez la Piste!

Because I'm spending way more time at home (interspersed with times of working alone in an office or with very few people elsewhere), I've had a lot more time to study languages, and it's really helped me not feel frustrated or hopeless during this virus time. When I wake up, I might initially wonder what's the point of the day other than just getting work done, but then I think about all the language possibilities awaiting me, and then I feel great.

Well thanks to this extra time (which may not happen again once a vaccine is created or the virus is eliminated), I ended up getting a copy of the very rare, but previously common, Suivez La Piste, which I used many years ago in a school French class. I don't remember exactly when I took that class, but I remember the teacher seeming to not enjoy teaching all that much, and I think he was annoyed with the apathetic/immature students. Little did I know back then that I would want to study languages on my own, and that I would want to use this book again. 

Suivez la Piste: love this book!

The book is a French detective thriller that was created as a radio program on the BBC in the 60s and was published in the early 70s in the US, and it is now very hard to find. I thought it would be available online, but the person who posted the text on a blog had deleted it, and all that remained was the audio. I ended up purchasing the book on Amazon through the IHM Sisters, who raise money to support their community and elderly care in Michigan. The book was labeled "used" but is in excellent shape, just like new, and they packaged it thoroughly so that it arrived in perfect condition. I think I bought the last copy they had, but if you want other books by them, go to their Amazon storefront. 

I'm so used to looking up words in a dictionary or online, at first that's what I did when I didn't understand a word in the book. Then I saw that they had all the words in the back (of course...it's a school textbook), so I don't have to go far to find out what something means. The book also has grammar exercises and explanations for each chapter, and has more extensive dialog than what is in the audio; the book has a line down the side of the dialog that corresponds to the audio, and the extra dialog and description are on the page without a line. 

Page inside Suivez la Piste: the line next to the dialog is included in the audio; dialog with no line is only in the book.

Surprisingly, I think I understand a lot of it, though if I just listen to the story it's hard to catch everything. A person who[m] I contacted online to find out if they had the book (before I ordered it from the Sisters) kindly and unexpectedly gave me some extra exercises and words to look at before I listen to the audio. I couldn't believe they did that--I'd never met them before, but they were very helpful and positive about my pursuit!

Many years ago I'd taken the book for granted because I had to use it in school. Now I see how it's an excellent resource to learn French and be entertained along the way, with references to technology and items that no longer exist, or are barely a part of contemporary culture. It's like a retro radio play, and the acting/voicing is really good as well.

So what seemed like a weird, sort of creepy time (because I don't want to/can't go wherever I want or see or talk with whomever I want [which is very difficult for extroverts/fake introverts like me]) has become a time of opportunity to rediscover language resources from yore and discover new outlets as well.

Social distancing has caused me to study languages more

When I started this blog, it was very language-oriented, but as the years passed, I did posts about other topics and got involved in non-language pursuits elsewhere, so I didn't post much about language, if at all. Sadly, some important people removed me from their lists and I sort of went off in various non-language directions, though I've been copy editing and proofreading for years. 

Now that I've decided to socially distance through 2021 (though I didn't really have a robust social life anyway), I've really gotten back into language. I'm following German, French, and Japanese sources on Twitter, and really should be following Spanish and Portuguese as well, because Twitter is a great way to learn. If I don't know a word (which is often), I look it up. I think Japanese is my most-studied language because there are a lot of really cool accounts that I follow, and some of my retweets are retweeted and liked by Japanese sources, which is really cool. Trying to understand the kanji is very challenging, and is sort of stressful, but I keep trying and it's very fun. There are times when I'll take a work break to read Japanese tweets, then I'll go down a rabbit hole looking up a word, how it's used, etc. Even while writing this post, I took a break to look at some Japanese posts and wow, it is so interesting! 

I've even been reading a 1980s French textbook called "En Route" that I got when I was cleaning out a family member's room (I think...I don't remember how I acquired it, but it was in our previous house). I don't know if the textbook still exists, but it's good, even though I'm sure the readings are outdated. 

A great French textbook from the 1980s.

I recently used the book to study the difference between passé composé and l'imparfait because I'm trying to understand Bruno Crémer's memoir, which seems to be written in tenses I don't always recognize. Trying to get through that book is like trudging through wind and snow...i.e., very hard :( 

Amazingly, in my French-learning pursuit, a very generous person who I've never met but emailed about another obsolete French schoolbook sent me some helpful study materials (I'm being vague because they really did me a huge favor even though I didn't ask for the stuff...they were just very kind and helpful). I can't wait until I do the first lesson. Thus I've discovered a bright spot during this social distancing/lockdown situation!

Before I was situationally socially distanced; now it's a choice

As I've suggested and even explicitly stated previously throughout the years, I've not had the most exciting social life, which matters to socially motivated and more extroverted people such as me [I/myself/whatever is correct in 21st century English]. As I've said many times before, I like doing work such as editing, translating, writing, reading, and other brain-stimulating activities that are not socially oriented, but I am not an introvert who is fine with being alone in front of a screen all day. While it may not be draining for an introvert, it's draining for me. My face feels like it's flattening and I feel cut off from society, and would love for someone to talk to me, even to ask me for a pen or something, anything to break up the Screen Stare. That's why I really enjoy teaching (I teach at two higher ed institutions, and they're both great); I really like the students, coworkers, and bosses, and it's like my isolating language world becomes technicolor when I go there.

I could easily write a long explanation of how my situational-decreased social interaction has developed over the years, but basically, I preferred working independently over office politics, and I spent many years helping my parents (at one point admittedly becoming a caregiver), in addition to losing connections (most not by choice) and being married to an introvert.

At the end of last year, when I felt like I'd finally adjusted to no longer being a caregiver, in addition to overcoming the grief from losing my parents and sister and no longer holding on to nostalgia for what I used to have (a very different lifestyle than now), I felt free. I started to proceed to create a new kind of social life, and tried not to feel upset when it didn't match memories of my more robust social history.

Then the virus hit, and we had to stay inside as much as possible. While I was still going to a physical workplace a few times a week, I was still inside a lot of the time, barely talking to people, and I felt like I was back where I started. However, we all had to be inside (even though lots of people have been ignoring social distancing), so for the first time, I wasn't alone in my situational social detachment. Now that the limitations are easing, we will be able to go to more places. But I have decided to continue to social distance for a long time, which weirdly doesn't make me frustrated or sad.

When I was thinking about how my decision hasn't upset me (unlike the past several years full of disappointment and frustration with inadvertent social distancing), I realized why I have a much better attitude about it now: it's a choice I am making, instead of a situation I don't want to be in. There is power in choice. Many times we don't have a choice, or we try to choose a path, but it ends up being destroyed or diverted to something we don't want. For instance, we could have a job we really enjoy and then get laid off. We didn't choose to get laid off so it's depressing. Or we could choose to be friends or work somewhere with people who are toxic. Or we could choose to try to connect with folks who end up rejecting or ostracizing us. Other times, our choices pay off and we're not disillusioned. But either way, it's very hard to feel strong when we really aren't in a position to choose our destiny. Maybe there are people out there who are able to feel strong through the choices they make, but I think it's difficult for a lot of people. But we can choose to have a kind of attitude in the midst of a weird situation such as a killer virus making its way through the world.

So ironically, I am choosing what I haven't wanted all these years and have struggled with, but this time it's to protect myself and those around me. Maybe all those years were to prepare me for this moment, because to stay safe, I need to now consciously distance and avoid people, and deliberately watch from the sidelines, a kind of health-oriented outsider rather than a societal one.

How I'm still motivated to write even though no one cares

Like a lot of other people, including those lucky ones who've been published or have an agent or editor waiting for their work, I was having a hard time writing during the initial phase of the lockdown. I could easily use work as an excuse, because in the early days, I was working so much, by the time I got a day off, I stayed in bed for hours and didn't do anything productive. But even after that, when my work stabilized and my days blurred together and I had more free time, I still had a hard time, because unlike work, which has deadlines and concrete expectations, what I write doesn't really matter because no one is waiting for it or asking for it. So if I wanted to, I could go for months without writing anything, and no one would care. Maybe in the early days of this blog, people would wonder where I was, but for fiction? I could write five books and it wouldn't matter. I've already written a horrible one, which I threw out in a recent Kondo-related purge, and I'm on the second draft of another. I've also finished Nanowrimo several times, but that's all rubbish, as the Brits would say. What really matters, at least to me, is the revision that I'm doing of the novel. But from late March to late April, I couldn't settle my mind enough to face it. I think it's because the city was rolling up around me and places were shut down and I was spending so much time in front of screens to get paid work done, it was hard to switch to the other Chicago that I've been writing about. Also, I just couldn't calm down. I was on high alert for a virus that was creeping through the city, as if it was randomly going to show up at my door at any moment. It's really irrational but I kept feeling like I had to be ready. Ready for what? If I continue to social distance and sanitize, I think I'll be fine. But I was too tense to relax my mind to get back into the world that's very different from my own.

Then something clicked. I was so tired of my stark lifestyle that I started to think about my fake blog and this real one, and I ended up writing the grateful post (actually rewriting it because the previous version, written in mid-April, had an edge to it that reminded me of how David Bowie probably felt when he recorded Low at the Hansa Studios near the Berlin Wall; my first version was written in a desolate, quiet downtown and I was too spooked to relax). Then I wrote in my fake blog, and something in my mind was open, and the creativity rushed forth. Then I kept writing, whether it was in my fake blog, my novel, here...I'm back!

But still, no one cares if I finish my novel. I have to summon super-powers to motivate myself to finish the revision of the book, and I even have to be motivated to write here and at the fake blog, especially because I don't have the numbers I had when I started this years ago (since I'm not a social media star and don't know how Google likes me at this point), and because I have no idea if anyone has found my fake blog. No one is saying to me, "Where's your latest post?" But I keep on writing. How? Why?

I've done several searches to find out how people stay motivated to write. I found a post about motivation by someone who's refreshingly honest about her experience in lockdown, and I've been watching writers talk about it on MasterClass (which is not a "class" but just a bunch of videos and worksheets that all add up to a high-end YouTube). But the difference between the rich superstar masters and me is that they have legions of fans waiting, editors that would love to help them polish their blockbusters, agents and movie producers who are ready to set new deals...they have major external motivation, and they can buy another house or plane when their new creations are released. I have none of that, though would perhaps be more motivated if people got me a Starbucks card because they like what I write and appreciate what I have done in podcasting. 

Several months ago, when I wanted to give up writing the novel because no one cared, I contacted Austin Gilkeson, who was in the anthology I did a while ago and has since published stories and has an agent. I asked him how he breaks down the general goal of finishing a novel into smaller, attainable goals, and told him that it seems pointless to me because I have no audience. He said that he has "no real system" and what keeps him "going on a project is an obsession with whatever" he writes about. That is dedication to the craft, and it seems like it didn't take a ton of time to get an agent either, which means he's a good writer. I'm probably not a good fiction writer, but I don't know for sure because I don't have any friends/contacts in the biz to give me feedback or even hope that I'm on the right track. Many people struggle to get a pro to take their work, but there are the superstars/well-connected rich people in New York who get a lot of help from their contacts in the publishing world so that they can craft a successful book. I'm not one of those folks, so I'll just keep writing, as Austin has done, and hope that it will pay off some day.

Even now, sitting in a downtown that has become more lively since some restrictions have been lifted, I am motivated to write with no external motivation. And late last night, after I finished some paid work and favor work, I was very motivated to write for the fake blog. What motivates me is the option to step out of my regular life, where I really am not in control of the work. I have to get work done, but I'm not creating the work; I'm merely meeting requirements that others have established. I'm not complaining because I like work so much that I never want to retire, literally, unless I become too ill to work, and am very motivated to be conscientious and a team player. But having to meet deadlines, do things to specifications, fake introversion, etc. feels like I'm just serving all the time and not generating. But when I write what I want, it's my world, my thoughts, my mind. Even now, I have a lot of work waiting for me at my fancy computer, and writing this isn't going to result in a paycheck in the mail, but it's invigorating and I feel more centered instead of being on the edge wanting to be approved or wanting to get tasks done in succession.

What's also helped is being part of a writing group. I don't show anyone my work, but if they say that we're going to meet at a certain time, then I'm willing to write for a couple of hours before we meet up and give a "report," which is really just saying "I wrote/edited x." At least there's some accountability and a deadline. Even if I had just one person to report to, I would be motivated to write because I would want to report something instead of saying "I tried to write x" or "I had a lot of work, so I did that instead." But the bottom line is that in my life of getting stuff done, toiling in obscurity, and suppressing my personality to survive the introverted world, I've carved out a slot that allows me to be independent of constructs and restrictions, and liberates my mind.

MasterClass isn't a "class"

Towards the end of last year, someone asked if I wanted to be gifted an "all-access" pass to MasterClass. They had a deal where if one person bought a pass they could offer another pass to someone else at a reduced price (I forgot the details, but it seemed affordable). It's not like I was motivated by the names of the "instructors" because I hadn't consumed all their media or read their work; in fact, I'd only read one book out of all the blockbuster writers, and I'd pretty much watched none of the TV shows they'd written. I'd seen one movie that one of them had written, and I didn't like it. So overall, I wasn't buying in because I wanted to know the backstory of their creations that I'd consumed, because I was hardly familiar with their work; I wanted to know how people had done something that brought them incredible wealth and approval, and I'd figure I'd learn something.

Yes, I've learned things after watching several videos, but I feel like I've just been watching professionally produced videos instead of "taking a class." There are downloadable materials with exercises, but I could pretty much access such exercises anywhere; I have access to books, online articles, webinars, etc. that are all free. What I don't have access to are rich, successful, well-connected people who I can talk with, ask advice from, and who can actually give me feedback on my work.

Because I've been teaching for several years and have taken both credit and non-credit classes online, I know what a class is. Even in online classes, we always have access to the teacher if we have questions. Also, in an online class there are lessons (as there are "lessons" in MasterClass), but we submit our work for feedback, and subsequent discussions are with students *and* the teacher. We also have a substantial onlilne textbook or digital, multimedia package that we work with, so the online material is dynamic, as opposed to MasterClass, which is just videos and some PDFs to download.

In MasterClass, there are "discussions," but they're just posts from other students, and people aren't necessarily communicating with each other. They're just comments that people can like, reply to, or ignore, just like at YouTube or other social media. I've even seen questions in the discussions that were asked in MasterClass that went unanswered. So what's the point of discussions if no one is answering the questions? Also, the site expects students to communicate with each other. But they don't necessarily know a topic at the "master" level; that's why we're at the site, to learn from the masters. So while it's nice to see people from all over the world assembling, they aren't necessarily equipped to lead others; the pros should be facilitating instead of letting the students meander. Since the site is calling these "classes," why isn't the "instructor," or at least someone from their company/studio/etc. or even from the MasterClass site itself, interacting?

The only interaction I've seen are livestreams, which are infrequent. Basically, there are like a hundred "classes," but only a handful of "instructors" have bothered to communicate with "students," and they're only answering questions that are pre-approved by the site. When I joined, there were no livestreams, but I think because a lot of the world is at home, the site decided to offer them during this pandemic, so I don't know if they will continue that when people can go out again. After all, they convinced these uber-successful people to teach by paying them a mere six-figure amount, plus a percentage of sales of their classes, so I'm sure they don't want to make them work even more because they can probably make way more money from their real "jobs."

While some videos are very informative and insightful, I haven't been too thrilled with some of the writing ones. I won't name any names, but it seems like their advice isn't concrete. Some of them say they love what they do, rewriting is hard, etc., but it's really information I can get from a general interview or an article about writing, and I don't need a famous person to tell me that. All they're doing is sitting there and talking and reading from their work. What I've been impressed with are some of the non-writing pros: they literally take you through their process, whether it's showing you the software and equipment they use and taking you through their unique steps, or showing you their production meetings. They break it down for you. So even though I'm still critical of the lack of interaction, at least they're showing us instead of just talking at us like any video online.

I'm not saying my money was wasted, and I'm sure many people have enjoyed the site, but I'm being realistic when I say that I haven't been taking classes there, but rather just watching videos of very successful people who I'll never communicate with, who have created a bunch of handouts that I can read when the videos are over and my membership expires.