The Daily of the University of Washington

The art of recommendation: Letters can bring you up or bring you down


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It’s the time of the year when job hunts are off to a roaring start. Whether a new graduate is in search of a career, or a student is looking for a summer job, many find the process of working on résumés, applications and interviews tedious and frustrating.

Discussing yourself, either in sadistically tiny application boxes, a rigidly format-sensitive résumé or at length in a personal interview makes the head reel; to shape an image of yourself fitting the position you wish to fill while remaining as closely grounded in the truth as your conscience permits is a delicate dance of deception and craftiness. If you haven’t thought of interviews this way, I am disinclined to believe you have ever held a job.

One of the blessings of applying for jobs — either to run a company or deep-fry potato products — is that when résumés are permissible, you may also include letters of reference.

It seems most potato-frying positions do not require résumés, but should you aspire to be a baby sitter, nanny, butler or domestic servant, it is highly likely that letters of recommendation will be required.

While there exists a subtle difference between letters of recommendation and references, I suppose the two could be interchangeable. For my purposes, we’ll suppose that a reference simply acknowledges that the letter-writer knows you and has taken the time to outline the hours and dates of your relationship. More persuasive is the recommendation, as it also paints the subject in an alluring light.

In fact, the latter of these letters is an excellent way to bolster self-esteem and shed light on people’s perceptions of your most marketable skills and traits. I suppose this is only self-esteem-boosting if you have marketable skills and traits. But if you don’t, it should be interesting to see what areas you need to work on to become a useful individual.

While it is generally acceptable to request letters of recommendation and references in preparation for job acquisitions, there are times where you may randomly be required to prove your status as a recommended person.

I encountered one such occasion very recently, and it taught me a great deal about myself. Though this situation had nothing to do with career options, I was requested to show that my coworkers and peers would recommend me for a very important task.

After all, what task requires more affirmed recommendation than holding a baby?

A close friend from high school recently became an aunt. I’ve known her sister for years and love them both. When this little baby entered the world a couple of weeks ago, I was psyched; against the public’s apparent general perception, I love holding babies.

However, new mothers are notoriously protective of their offspring, and the baby’s mother told her sister to tell me that I could not hold the thing without at least three letters of recommendation. Not sure whether or not she was kidding, I didn’t want to risk losing out on this tiny bundle of joy, so I requested of some of my favorite people — and in one case, demanded — letters of recommendation.

I ended up with five excellent letters, ranging from two-paragraph references to a full page of roast-like farcical parody. Another was very touching and may get matted, framed and hung over my bed.

However, each nailed very specific qualities to me. One suggested my meticulous skill at putting on clothes proves that I would be meticulous with a baby. Another drew parallels between how my obsession with my hair would equate to an obsession with baby-well-being. My favorite letter said that my general image-obsession would disallow me to drop a baby, since that would run against the image of “classy” that I strive for. Before he backed my baby-holding endeavors, one person unexpectedly chucked a football at me to test for cat-like reflexes.

Should I ever want to be a nanny, I have a delightful compilation of letters started. And given the success of my participation with the delightfully precious infant, I expect that I can soon add a letter from an actual mother.

In any event, reading the letters gave me a strong indication of my best and most noticeable traits — and it gave me a head start on other jobs in the baby-holding professions.

Reach columnist Matt Jackson at

opinion@dailyuw.com.


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