In Sherman's Inferno, a special circle of hell will be reserved for Braves fans, murderous dictators and everyone who thought that Born in the USA was a patriotic song (or worse, those who knew it wasn't but willfully misappropriated it). But I have been hearing from my esteemed Wharton colleagues that another circle, perhaps featuring darker and hotter depths than the one with J.D. Drew's name on it, should belong to on-campus recruiting. OCR is, of course, the unfortunate process by which many Wharton students and some sad, sad economics majors in the College -- the pain of not cracking 1500 on their SATs still evident on their faces -- whore themselves out to companies in the hope that they might receive a job offer in return.
Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of schmooze! You may have seen them striding purposefully, usually in the general direction of the McNeil Building, decked out smashingly in whatever power suit is in style this season, and holding, of course, the ubiquitous nicer-than-average Wharton leather folder (believe it or not, every single one of your friends in Wharton has one of these, reserved specifically for use during OCR). Hearing them talk about their experiences, it seems like OCR is a rite of passage as intense as, and only slightly less traumatic than, the death of a relative. Well, it's poll season, so I'm here to tell you that after a completely unscientific poll of my friends -- most of whom just wanted someone to bitch to -- I have come to a startling conclusion.
The supposed difficulty of OCR is, in fact, slightly exaggerated.
That's right. OCR isn't that terrible. Wharton kids just like to complain. Stop, I say, stop those presses.
Here are some of the main reasons why Wharton students like to cry about OCR. First, they say, interviews are hard. This is a fiction. Interviews are great. Sure, some of the more intense companies may ask obnoxious questions designed to test "outside-the-box" thinking, such as how many ping pong balls it would take to fill up the cabin of a 747 (my answer: give me a 747 and ten grand and I'll tell you). But what's the worst that could happen? No one expects you to give an exact answer. You're just meant to think out loud and go through a logical thought process designed to show off your analytical skills, all the while trying desperately to keep a straight face. How hard is that?
Second, they say the companies ask difficult personal questions, such as the dreaded "name your biggest personal flaw" conundrum. Really, I don't know why they keep asking this -- after the thousandth student tells them that their biggest flaw is, "I just have too high expectations for myself," can't they shut up and accept that we are perfect beings? Plus, what these kids don't tell you is that for later-round interviews, some companies elect to do terrible things like put students up in a hotel, or send down the Gulfstream Jet to pick them up and fly them back to the company offices. Oh, the horror!
Which brings us to a third complaint about OCR, that it forces Wharton students to "compete against their friends" for jobs. To that I say, haven't you been doing that for the last four years? Remember Management 100, when you totally pretended to be that girl's friend and then tore her to pieces during the feedback session? I sure as hell do, and I didn't even take that class.
Why does this matter, beyond the fact that I appear to have a startling number of friends in Wharton? A recent New York Times article quotes Harvard University's chief of mental health services as saying that college students have about a 50-50 chance of suffering depression or other psychological difficulties. Apparently, we're all constantly under a tremendous amount of pressure (gee, thank you, Times) and you Whartonites are just making it worse for yourselves. Christ, it's even stressing me out, and I tend to sleep 'til noon.
Recent survey data from Career Services shows that only 9 percent of students in the College from the Class of 2003 had job offers during the first semester of their senior year. And while that number was much higher for Wharton students, it was still less than half (44 percent). Far be it from me to say that Wharton could exert any sort of influence over the rest of the undergraduate student body, but it just seems like people are getting worked up over a whole lot of nothing.
So calm the hell down about OCR already, and while you're at it, recognize that "job" doesn't just mean working for Bain or McKinsey, living in Manhattan and giving Sarah Jessica Parker a run for her money as far as footwear is concerned. Now practice with me: "My name is Homestar Runner, and I think I would be a great asset to your company."
Eliot Sherman is a senior English major from Philadelphia and editorial page editor of The Daily Pennsylvanian. Diary of a Madman normally appears on Thursdays.
