WHEN A FRIEND of Timo Nguyen's wanted to check out Graham Webb International Academy of Hair in Rosslyn, Ngyuen tagged along. An administrator, thinking he was interested, too, gave him an application.
"I thought about it for a month," he says.
The Vietnamese immigrant consulted his family around the dining table: Mom was concerned, his father and sisters supportive. The tipping point: Nguyen was miserable as a computer programmer at an Arlington database company.
"I went to school for computers because everyone went to school for computers," Nguyen says of his bachelor's degree, which he received from George Mason University in 2000. "But it just wasn't me; it wasn't fun. I was working to support myself only."
In January 2002, he - but not his friend - started classes at Graham Webb (1621 N. Kent St., Arlington; 703-243-9322; Grahamwebbacademyonline.com), one of several schools in the Washington area that teaches cut, color and styling techniques to students of all ages. This work was fun; by taking classes full time Tuesday through Saturday and helping at classes Sunday and Monday, he racked up enough credits to finish the yearlong program in 10 months.
He also earned accolades. Five months in, the school hosted its annual competition: As family and friends cheered in a Rosslyn theater, about 20 students worked on two models each, from cutting to blowouts. Nguyen won the award for color.
BLACKJACK DEALING. Resume writing. Improve your life. Make more money. Become more attractive. Turn that great invention idea into reality. Heck, is that Sudoku puzzle too hard for you? There's a class for that, too.
Washington's source for educational seminars both serious and off-the-wall is First Class Inc., that business whose brochures are usually nestled between real estate flyers and job fair leaflets. But unlike buying a home or finding a new job, a class at First Class can change your life for a minimal investment — or, at least, that's the angle Debra Leopold's banking on.
Leopold, 52, has helmed First Class Inc., since she founded it in 1984. She's led her business through its fledgling stages (convincing former Washington Post columnist Bob Levey to hold a seminar) to its glory days (a former CIA agent's class attracted worldwide press attention) and, most recently, a serious challenge (the Internet and free information). She's watched her industry evolve and flounder, as independent learning centers across the country have folded and even many of industry giant Learning Annex's schools have closed. And, the cynic says, why should it be any different? When the Web can teach you how to buy a house, start a business or fold an origami crane, why shell out for a class, even one that costs as little as $25 and two hours of time?
"It's so hard to replicate the energy that happens in a live seminar," Leopold says. She wears pink eye shadow and a rhinestone-speckled dress, and is almost unconscionably perky. She bakes chocolate chip cookies for her students to munch on before class. "You can get all the information from the Internet, but [the teacher] motivates you to do it. How would you get that on the Internet?"
YOU NEVER WANT to mess up a chance for a good job. Especially not when openings are few and half the people in the area seem to be competing for them.
Even if you're happy where you are, these tips from local experts might help. "It's a big mistake to think, 'They'd never lay me off,'" says Lynne Waymon, CEO of Contacts Count, a nationwide training firm in Silver Spring. "Ha, ha — they sure can!"
First, from Robbie Miller Kaplan, author of nine books including "Sure-Hire Resumes":
1. Does blasting your resume to employers' fax machines or Web sites make sense?
Use your network to get your resume into the hands of the hiring manager. It's still the best way to circulate your resume.
2. What's the easiest mistake to avoid?
Creating a cookie-cutter résumé without taking the time to research jobs of interest, learn the most desirable qualifications or express your unique qualities.
3. When starting out, is it more important to emphasize education or job history?
Begin with your most valuable qualifications. Ask, "Is my degree more viable than my experience?" "Dos my experience, internships, externships, leadership or volunteer activities align with the job requirements?"
Continue Reading "Brush Up Those Basics: Nine Career Tips" »
"I'M A WRITER" is a phrase so broad it's almost meaningless. Example:
Eric Kimball is writing. He knows how his story ends and he knows how it begins, but the middle is muddled. His outline so far says "stuff happens" — shorthand for "I'll figure out what happens here later."
He stands, sighs and goes for a walk around the block to clear his head.
Kimball, 33, isn't a novelist or a writer of short stories. He doesn't fit the stereotype of the lone wolf sitting in a dusty study, banging away at the keys of a laptop or scribbling with a favorite pen, praying the mail will bring checks, not rejection letters. Kimball writes comics.
"I like dialogue, I like well-turned phrases," he says, "and I don't like description that much. I've never enjoyed the sort of, 'His hair was like a summer stream.' I can never get it to work right. I like listening to people talk." So, Kimball decided not to fight his tin ear for description and let an artist draw his stuff.
Christiana Trenum is writing. She's pulled out one of the three notebooks she keeps with her, jotting journal entries that will someday become music. The 23-year-old singer-songwriter from Gainesville, Va., wants to go full time with music in the next year and a half, but not necessarily as an artist. "My plan of attack is I will be pitching music to some publishing companies ... just selling my material." Until then, she's working in marketing while penning her songs.
"I COULD DO THAT." Haven't you thought that when seeing a guide walk tourists past a memorial or museum? You live here: How hard could it be?
Plenty hard. You have to keep tabs on maybe dozens of schoolchildren or seniors, enlighten them with facts and stories, entertain them when they — or you — are tired or hungry or bored, and know how to deal with any traffic jam or emergency. Then there are long hours on your feet, the rain, the heat and the oh-so-nutritious meals (food court, anyone?).
Brian Grossbard loves it. He handles tours full time for Guide Service of Washington, the area's oldest and largest tour-guide company. "I get the opportunity every day to see Washington through the eyes of someone seeing it for the first time," he says. "I'm a news and political and history junkie, so the Mall still moves me every time."
Grossbard has worked for the B'nai B'rith Youth Organization (in activities), Hillel Foundation (running a college center) and the Jewish Community Relations Council in Cincinnati (public and community relations). While living in Israel, he trained as a tour guide, "which basically means learning the whole country."
WITH ITS BLOWN SUGAR sculptures displayed in glass and five-course dessert tastings, Penn Quarter's newly opened chocolate lounge, Co Co. Sala, is Nisha Sidhu's laboratory for sweet. Here Sidhu, 38, pictured above, experiments with chocolate-covered bacon, chocolate caviar and hot candy bars. It's unlike any of the labs that the former biomedical engineer has worked in most of her life: Sidhu's last pre-pastry job was designing medical equipment for the Navy.
"I always had a passion for pastry," says Sidhu, who started baking as a child. "But I was brought up with parents saying you should be an engineer." While at the Navy, she took a few classes at L'Academie de Cuisine, but the idea of making it a full-time career came only after she left her job in 1997 to stay at home with her kids. By the time she decided to get back to work five years later, she was too rusty in engineering to return. So, she decided on pastry, an idea she had been toying with while developing her domestic side as a mom. "It wasn't a surprise, but my parents couldn't understand why I wasn't happy staying at home to bake cakes," says Sidhu.
It turns out that pastry isn't a far leap from engineering either. Assembling showpiece sugar and chocolate sculptures involves drawings similar to architectural designs. And knowing chemistry helps Sidhu create fun, new sugary treats. "Chocolate is such a complex substance because it's a crystal," she says. "You have to really understand its molecular structure."
FOLKS HAVE been turning glass into art since pharaohs strutted in Egypt. (Tombs stuffed with beads prove it.) Two-day Beginner's Glass Lovers Weekends at the Washington Glass School introduce newbies to the ancient art form, which has been revitalized over the past half-century, thanks to technique and technology innovations. "It's a new medium in some ways. You can do anything and not be derivative," says one of the class' instructors (and school co-founder) Tim Tate. "Try doing that with photography or ceramics. You could be the first person to make a glass giraffe!"
SURE, ANYONE CAN TELL YOU how to become an accountant or a sales rep. We tell you how to get the cool jobs.
» NAME: Matt Wuerker, 51
» JOB: Cartoonist
» SALARY: According to the United States Department of Labor, artists, including cartoonists, working in the newspaper industry in D.C. make an average of $73,120 annually. But earnings depend on the kind of position — a staff cartoonist working for a small newspaper can make less than a freelance cartoonist drawing for several publications.
» WHAT HE DOES: Wuerker worked as a freelance cartoonist for 20 years before joining Politico as a staff cartoonist a year and a half ago. But when he first began, Wuerker said he would take any kind of cartooning job that came his way. Now as a staff cartoonist, his favorite part of the job is still drawing a one-frame political cartoon. "It's like a really great haiku — or maybe it's more of a limerick than a haiku. It's just the purest kind of cartooning to me," he said. "I'm more of a classicist."
COMING SOON TO a theater near you: a Washington lawyer you've never heard of.
If that makes you raise an eyebrow, just think how it sounds to a federal prosecutor who last acted for an audience in law school 20 years ago. When "The Six Wives of Henry Lefay" opens months from now, among the leads will be Tim Allen, Elisha Cuthbert, Jenna Elfman, Paz Vega, Andie MacDowell, S. Epatha Merkerson — and Tony Quinn of Capitol Hill.
Quinn, 46, did summer-stock theater in Vermont "with a lot of Broadway types" while in college. During law school at Emory, he acted out — literally — at the Atlanta Shakespeare Company rather than clerk or research. But at 6-foot-7, "there aren't a lot of parts for someone my size," he says. "'Starving artist' was not appealing." Quinn took a law firm job in D.C., and in 1991 he joined the Justice Department.
Chances to play to the crowd were few. "I'm a courtroom lawyer. There's a bit of the theatrical to that," Quinn notes, and he has performed a bit for free: as an MC at awards ceremonies and in Department of Justice and Boy Scout training films. Seeking other creative outlets, he wrote short stories and hid them in a drawer.
A TYPICAL WORK SCENE on MTV's "The Hills" plays out like this: Designer-clad and perfectly coiffed Lauren Conrad and Whitney Port chat about boys while sorting idly through racks of clothes. A supervisor will ask them to perform a simple task. They freeze, eyes wide, and exclaim "OMG." Rapid-fire texting commences. The girls pout attractively.
"That's bull," says Lauren Webb about the reality show's representation of entry-level fashion careers. "I know that the industry is not glamorous — it's not parties every night."
Webb, a 24-year-old analyst for the Department of Defense, thinks that once she leaves for a fashion position in New York, her day will be more like this: Arriving at the office before most people have had their coffee. Attending meetings with designers and photographers. Updating a list of contacts for Fashion Week, and maybe, if she has time, writing a blog entry about a collection she loves — no "OMG's" or vacant stares allowed.
With the popularity of fashion-based shows and movies such as "The Devil Wears Prada," "Ugly Betty," and "Project Runway," competition in the industry is steep. The clothes may be beautiful, but the job search will not be pretty.
"All these fashion-oriented shows like 'Project Runway' give a wrong impression about how the industry works," says Sally Melanie Lourenco, a former editor of Italian Vogue who teaches online courses on starting out in fashion careers of all types. "You ask, 'Why do you want to work here?' and they answer, 'Because I love clothes.' It goes so much deeper than loving clothes."
Addison Road