Anne Turchi: Eyeing Opportunities

I'd hate to start this essay with the phrase, "I'm not in Kansas any more," partly for the annoying cliché factor and partly because I'm sure there are many fine business schools in Kansas. But it's true. Somewhere between September and now, the cyclone cleared and I'm smack in the middle of Business World: the world of Supply Chain Management, Net Present Value, and Globalization. Some people call this place the "real world." I beg to differ. Beg all I want, though, I'm here. Each new day in business school reveals a piece of the world to me, and each day I'm more amazed and amused by how well it all fits. Then, just when things are humming along fine, some corporate executive (or country) makes a few bad (or immoral) decisions and changes everything. I wonder how many Wal-Marts there are in Kansas, anyway.

Take finance, for example. The question: You have a piece of land in Napa Valley, California, and a choice: winery or strip mall. My question: do I really need my MBA finance class to answer to this question?

It's an interesting contrast: at a time when I'm learning of the power – almost the global responsibility – of the American consumer to live beyond her means, I'm living on less than I ever have. I try not to think about the things I'm doing without (TV, car, money, near-distance relationship) and focus more on the things I do have (old pair of running shoes, five-pound Marketing coursepack, free subscription to BusinessWeek). I hope the global economic imbalances can forgive me.

To my roommate's relief, my academic life is decidedly less dramatic this quarter. We're taking four classes, not five. Fall quarter's classes provided the building blocks for winter quarter's classes. The basic properties of mathematics I learned in elementary school are coming back to me. Plus, this quarter I've got Chak on my team.

Let me tell you something about Chak. If math problems were guitars, Chak would be Jimi Hendrix. If math problems were sonnets, Chak would be William Shakespeare. Any time I become anxious about a project, Chak says, "I'll do the numbers," and I know everything's going to be OK.

This quarter, I've learned something in every class:

Finance: 1) NPV, ROI; most important things in life can't be measured using three-letter acronyms. 2) Never, never try to do my own financial planning. My best learning in Finance class comes by paying attention to who's asking the good questions, so I'll know who to hire.
Information, Technology and Innovation (ITI): The term "computer bug" grew from the times when computers were so large that one very real hazard was real bugs flying into them and messing things up. ITI class perplexed a lot of us, but our professor was well connected and we got to videoconference with a lot of fancy technology executives.
Marketing: Last quarter in Microeconomics, I learned that nothing is a "need;" everything is a "want." This quarter in Marketing, I learned that everything is a need, including my Brita water filter and my classmate's designer jeans. One of my all-time favorite B-school concepts is that of latent needs. Latent needs are needs that people have and they don't even know it yet.
Macroeconomics: I love Macroeconomics because there exists an Unholy Trinity and because the Fed can make money just appear (and disappear) at will. I feel like on the last day, our quirky and fabulous professor will begin the class this way: "Okay, so last time we talked about the Aggregate Demand, Aggregate Supply model and how it interacts with the labor market. And this time I'm going to show you how none of this, macroeconomics, marketing, ITI, finance, or the MBA program, really exists."

First year, second quarter brings the beginning of internship search season. And what a search it is. When my friends relay their experiences with on-campus internship interviews, I can't help but think of my old friend and volleyball teammate, Bill. Bill and I played against, and then with, one another on a competitive volleyball team in Santa Fe. Bill would amuse himself on the court by "finding the lamb." I have been on both sides of the net from Bill. I've been on side where he whispers to his teammate Rob, "Wanna see Anne dive?" before he serves, then makes me dive. I've also been on Bill's team where he whispers to me "I've found the lamb; wanna see her dive?"

From the stories I hear of these interviews, they go down in about the same way. Here's how the system works: my classmates check a Web site and electronically submit their resumes for the jobs that they want. Recruiters come to campus and select resumes of people they'd like to interview. My classmates come to school looking fabulous in suits and ties and new haircuts. Interviews go something like this:

Recruiter: Do you use CRM?
Candidate: No.
Recruiter: I think it's awfully judgmental of you to say that CRM is useless.

At this point, the recruiter of Unnamed Big Corporation has just served: hard, topspin, down the line. Will the student dive and barely dig the ball or gracefully move to it and nail a perfect pass? Is the recruiter interviewing a lion or a lamb?

What I learned from playing on Bill's volleyball team is that it's a lot better to be playing with him than against him. I want to work for a company who is recruiting teammates, not firing serves at potential colleagues. I have opted out of on-campus recruiting.

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