By now you have likely seen at least one fearless soul braving the winter elements without boots or a coat, but rather in suits and dress shoes. No, these folks did not sustain brain damage from slipping on black ice — I would know, because I was one of them. For those uninitiated, welcome to a special hell known as corporate recruiting.
For much of fall and winter terms, aspiring upperclassmen scramble together some semblance of professionalism from years spent between hazy frat basements and starkly lit library rooms. They try to cobble together resumes and cover letters, a process for which the College has prepared many of them all too inadequately. After the exceedingly rigorous screening process and additional interviews to narrow down the pool, only a limited number of students succeed in finding their post-graduate jobs through on-campus recruiting. The culture of cutthroat competition is enough to drive anyone insane, and the process is the equivalent of taking an additional class, if not more. In recruiting, however, there are no professors or teaching assistants to ask for guidance — everyone is seemingly on their own.
So why go through it all? Beyond the obvious perks of job stability, there is a surprising amount to take away from the unpleasant process. I fully admit that it can crush individuality and creativity and funnel bright young minds into a corporate meat grinder, transforming them into dull drones. While these claims are not unfounded, the recruiting process also teaches valuable professional and life skills that are not found in the average 10A.
Frankly, much of Dartmouth’s academic curriculum seems relatively less rigorous than many of its peer institutions. There are, of course, exceptions. Take one look at our median grade inflation across multiple departments, or better, Webster Avenue on a Friday night, though, and I’m tempted to believe that the average Dartmouth student probably does not work as hard as students from the University of California at Berkeley or the University of Chicago. In job markets, regardless of the field, I will have to directly compete with all university graduates for a limited number of positions.
So what is the edge for Dartmouth students? Our degrees get us on the map, but what is to distinguish us from candidates from equally prestigious schools? The well-rounded aspect of a liberal arts education means little if we can’t get through the technical parts of an interview — or even score one to begin with. Corporate recruiting both puts the world into perspective for the insulated Dartmouth student and forces a necessary discipline and self-sufficiency on its participants. There are no extensions, no NROs or curves, no professors or deans holding my hand. It’s sink or swim in the true sense of the phrase.
Corporate recruitment may bear an ugly stigma as “selling out” to some parts of campus, but it happens at most schools of equal caliber. There is a bigger world outside of the Hanover bubble, and competition is fierce out there. Rather than disregarding the process as evil, why not take a moment to evaluate it as an opportunity to compete with, measure up with and even learn from some of the most talented and intelligent people in the world? Dartmouth taught me how to succeed, but the real world is about failure and dealing with the fallout. The recruiting process is the perfect microcosm of developing the necessary perseverance and thick skin necessary to survive and succeed.
By no means is this a perfect process, nor is it suited for every student. I will be the first to say that Dartmouth lacks the pre-professional development programs that many of its students need, but the opportunities exist in abundance if one cares to look. Corporate recruiting has offered me a fair shot in my early twenties to earn my keep and grow skills pertinent to my professional and personal life, and I can’t realistically ask for much more.
Not to mention the pay and job security are pretty good too, if you’re into that kind of thing.
