“Also a dispute arose among them as to which of them was considered to be the greatest.” –Luke 22:24
Two months after I got married, I lost my job. For an achiever like myself, this was one of the worst things that could happen.
I dived into the unemployment season unaware of what it would be like. I thought it would be torture looking for a job. I thought it would pain me to wait upon people’s answers. I thought the worst hurt would be hearing the rejections.
But oddly enough, the thing that hurt the most was having nothing to say when people asked what I did for a living.
I told them I was unemployed and that I write in my free time, but in my mind, that wasn’t enough. I felt my answer lacked in several aspects.
This is what we get for living in a works-driven society: when we don’t have a job, we suffer from more than just lack of money—we suffer from feeling invaluable.
It’s no mystery that we live in a works-driven society. We wear our occupations like badges; and when we speak of them, we sound like kids during show-and-tell. Our society is obsessed with what we do, as if it speaks to our value.
It is a rule in our works-driven society to validate ourselves to others by telling them what we do for a living. This way, people know where we stand in comparison to them. People know our value, our position, and how important we are.
As I was telling others that I was unemployed and looking for a full-time job, they immediately jumped into helping mode, which was great, but also spoke to me that the greatest problem I had in life was my lack of a job.
Yet, I would venture to say there are more important matters than what we do for a job. And there are also better ways to connect rather than stating what we do.
You see, when we tell others what we do, we place ourselves in a hierarchy. We state our status and we rank ourselves.
For instance, we can think: this person is a lawyer, which means he is more valuable than me.
This sort of interaction isn’t connection; it’s ranking. And it all starts once we speak what we do for a living.
But there’s a better aspect of our lives that we should place our emphasis on. It’s not what we do; it’s who we are. It’s our character.
Focusing on character is great because it’s not measurable—at least, not in numbers. Character also arrives closer to the essence of who we are. It describes values that makeup the core of our lives—values such as love, self-sacrifice, heroism, and courage. The qualities describe our heart, and best of all, anyone is capable of having these qualities. There’s no rank or hierarchy involved.
But what does it practically look like to give more emphasis to who we are rather than what we do in a conversation?
Easy. Don’t ask, “what do you do?” Instead, only ask, “what’s your name?”
Don’t dive into what a person does for a living. You know all you need to know about them once you discover their name.
Inbetween the brief time you learn of the person’s name and the time you end the conversation, you connect with that person. You don’t rank yourself. You don’t introduce a hierarchy. Rather, you meet them where they are, and for a brief moment in time, you are with them. You’re not above or below them; you’re just with them.
This is how we place the emphasis on our character instead of our occupation in conversations.
Some of you might be wondering, “I seem to connect better with people when I tell them what I do for a living.”
The reason we feel our connection is better when we speak our occupation is because we’re immersed so deeply in our works-driven society. The people around us have bought into the system, and we’re just playing along.
But we can reverse the tides. We can start by simply asking for people’s names and getting above issues of status.
In some small way, only asking for a person’s name helps change our society from being works-driven.
Being a works-driven society says the most important thing about our lives is what we do, but being a character-driven society says the most important thing about our lives is who we are and what we believe in. The latter is what allows for connection, and this is where we should place our emphasis.
So today, I’m beginning an experiment.
The next time I meet someone, I’m not going to ask them what they do for a living. Instead, I’m going to tune into what they believe in their heart. I’m going to listen to how familiar they are with their spirit, how they don’t need to say what they do for a living to validate their existence. I’m going to celebrate with them the joy of knowing one’s self outside of what they do for a living.
And if you ask me, that’s a better way to connect.
Photography by Mikaela Hamilton
Do you have troubles connecting when others ask what you do for a living? Share your stories below in the comments section! I would love to hear them.