When did "entry-level" start requiring three years of experience?
A recent Cengage report found that 77% of recent graduates think employers expect too much experience for entry-level roles, and 53% said they have skipped applying because they felt underqualified.
I studied Computer Engineering, worked in software, moved into data science, went to Carnegie Mellon for my master’s, worked in AI, and eventually moved into technical product marketing at AWS.
At several points, I was moving into work that I had never done before.
I didn’t have a five-year track record for each new role.
What I did have was technical depth, projects I could point to, and a track record of figuring things out.
Years of experience are easy to put into a job description.
They’re also a pretty imperfect proxy for whether someone can actually do the work.
Someone who has spent two years doing the same task may have less range than someone who has spent two years learning across projects, internships, research, competitions, or real-world work.
AI is changing the skills employers need.
So I’d rather see a hiring process that asks:
What can this person actually do?
How do they approach unfamiliar problems?
How quickly can they learn?
What evidence do they have that they can apply what they know?
Those questions tell me much more than whether someone has checked the exact number of years in a job description.
And I think more early-career talent deserves that opportunity.
What I know about networking now that I wish I knew at the start of my career.
I always thought the hardest part was sending a cold message to someone I barely know.
I was wrong.
The harder part was actually managing the relationships after I sent the message.
There have been a few times when I caught myself not following up after the first message or interaction, and when I actually needed my network’s help, I felt too guilty to reach back out again.
I always thought the hardest part was sending a cold message to someone I barely know.
I was wrong.
The harder part was actually managing the relationships after I sent the message.
There have been a few times when I caught myself not following up after the first message or interaction, and when I actually needed my network’s help, I felt too guilty to reach back out again.
My networking was well-intentioned but pretty unorganized.
Over time, I realized good networking isn’t just about who you are reaching out to but also how intentionally and frequently you follow through.
That’s when I started using my simple 3-2-1 networking rule.
3 Days -> Initial follow-up
If I haven’t heard back after my first message, I’ll put a reminder on my calendar to follow up within 3 days
2 days -> Urgent Tasks
If there’s a time-sensitive reason I am connecting with someone, like a job referral, I’ll make sure to follow up within two days
1 day -> Scheduling a coffee chat
Once someone has agreed to connect, I will try to move quickly and make scheduling easy. I’ll respond within 1 day with a few specific times instead of leaving the conversation hanging.
The biggest lesson I have learned:
Networking isn’t a numbers game.
Yes, you would want to connect with as many people in your field as possible, but it’s also about staying thoughtful and consistent with the people you have already connected with.
And sometimes, the person who didn’t respond to your first message isn’t ignoring you; they might just be busy.
So don’t shy away from following up.
Now, whenever I reach out to someone I would genuinely like to know, I don’t just send the message and hope for the best.
I create a system to make sure I follow through.
Instagram etiquette question: You’re at a wedding. The next day, you post a carousel of the event. The couple isn’t in it. Rude?
Ok but first..... YES, I know that there are a thousand reasons the couple might not appear in your post.......... but what caught my attention about this debate was how conspicuous that absence felt to people, and how much they read into it about the person posting.
I think part of the tension is that a carousel gives you room. A wedding guest fit pic with no mention of the wedding might already get a few side-eyes, but once there are five slides, people seem to start taking attendance. The flowers made it in, but the couple didn’t? I’m curious about when “you could have included them” starts to become “you should have.”
Erving Goffman wrote about the small rituals we use to show regard for each other: greetings, compliments, invitations, all those tiny gestures that reassure us of where we stand. I wonder if we’ve started expecting a little of that from each other’s posts too. Is including the couple the Instagram equivalent of thanking the host?
Ok but first..... YES, I know that there are a thousand reasons the couple might not appear in your post.......... but what caught my attention about this debate was how conspicuous that absence felt to people, and how much they read into it about the person posting.
I think part of the tension is that a carousel gives you room. A wedding guest fit pic with no mention of the wedding might already get a few side-eyes, but once there are five slides, people seem to start taking attendance. The flowers made it in, but the couple didn’t? I’m curious about when “you could have included them” starts to become “you should have.”
Erving Goffman wrote about the small rituals we use to show regard for each other: greetings, compliments, invitations, all those tiny gestures that reassure us of where we stand. I wonder if we’ve started expecting a little of that from each other’s posts too. Is including the couple the Instagram equivalent of thanking the host?
My personal brand has given me so much, so I have a few thoughts on Emma Grede’s argument...
Emma says she built businesses, and her personal brand followed. Her message is that the work should come first. I agree with her concern about people spending more time packaging themselves than getting good at something. But I also think there’s a lot of value in being intentional about your personal brand while you’re doing the work.
I started posting regularly in 2022 while I was hosting events (way before I was close to being great at it) and trying to carve out a career in startups. I was excited about what I was building, and I wanted people to know about it!
Sharing that work helped me build trust, engineer serendipity, and meet people who changed the trajectory of my career. I’m fairly confident I wouldn’t have had the same opportunities if I’d kept it all to myself.
That’s the part I think sometimes gets lost in this conversation. I was vocal about things I was actually doing. There was something for people to care about, and sharing it gave them a way to get to know me and my work.
Being intentional about that has mattered too. Thinking about what I want to be known for and how to share what I’m learning is part of the work I put into my personal brand. I believe there’s legitimate strategy involved in that, and I’ve seen the payoff in my own life.
You can build something without talking about it publicly. But if you want to build a personal brand, I agree that there needs to be something behind it. However, you don’t have to wait until you’re great at something to start sharing the process.
For me, building and sharing have always happened together. I’ll keep actively investing in both, and I think you should too!
Emma says she built businesses, and her personal brand followed. Her message is that the work should come first. I agree with her concern about people spending more time packaging themselves than getting good at something. But I also think there’s a lot of value in being intentional about your personal brand while you’re doing the work.
I started posting regularly in 2022 while I was hosting events (way before I was close to being great at it) and trying to carve out a career in startups. I was excited about what I was building, and I wanted people to know about it!
Sharing that work helped me build trust, engineer serendipity, and meet people who changed the trajectory of my career. I’m fairly confident I wouldn’t have had the same opportunities if I’d kept it all to myself.
That’s the part I think sometimes gets lost in this conversation. I was vocal about things I was actually doing. There was something for people to care about, and sharing it gave them a way to get to know me and my work.
Being intentional about that has mattered too. Thinking about what I want to be known for and how to share what I’m learning is part of the work I put into my personal brand. I believe there’s legitimate strategy involved in that, and I’ve seen the payoff in my own life.
You can build something without talking about it publicly. But if you want to build a personal brand, I agree that there needs to be something behind it. However, you don’t have to wait until you’re great at something to start sharing the process.
For me, building and sharing have always happened together. I’ll keep actively investing in both, and I think you should too!