I graduated from a prestigious university on the East Coast, and every fall my friends and acquaintances ask me to write a letter of recommendation to the university on behalf of their child, niece or nephew. In some situations, I don’t even know the child. How do I say no without seeming unhelpful?
—Learning to Love in the Digital Age
[patty]
The first step is to remove the word prestigious from your vocabulary. OK, now I can help you. I, too, am often asked to help friends’ children with letters of recommendation, phone calls or contacts related to schools or employment. If I know the child or young adult and they have not been convicted of a violent felony, I will help. But they themselves have to contact me. If I don’t know the child but the parent is a good friend, I will offer to have coffee and chat, but again, at the request of the child. I will even go as far as friends of friends, if they have a compelling story. Why? Because once, a long time ago, someone gave me a recommendation that forever changed my career, and I think I should try to keep paying that forward.
[raschelle]
You just part your lips slightly, place your tongue on the roof of your mouth and say ‘no.’ Not difficult at all, really. Well, it might be awkward, but it isn’t hard. I recently learned that ‘no’ is a complete sentence, and that bit of knowledge has set me free. My time has become my own again, and I’m able to focus on what I want to do instead of what others might expect me to do. Go on, give it a try. It’s worth it; just think of all the time you’ll have for reminiscing about the good ’ole days of prestige—maybe even hum a few bars of Ten Thousand Men of Harvard!
I was not the most popular person in high school, and every once in a while I run into people who were not very nice to me during those years. They still ‘freeze me out.’ Do you have any suggestions for how to handle them after all these years?
—Creeped-Out but Not Creepy
[patty]
Why yes, yes I do. First, let’s get some toilet paper and some eggs and meet at the corner once it’s dark. Or perhaps we can do the ding-dong-ditch, although my knees aren’t what they use to be, so it is likely I will get caught. Here’s what I really think: You should feel sorry for those people. Clearly they peaked in high school and never matured enough to act like adults in social situations. Next time you see them, try a blank stare with repeated blinking, which sends the message, ‘I know I should know you, but I haven’t the slightest idea why?’ Don’t be surprised if these ‘mean girls’ begin to melt. I have seen it happen!
[raschelle]
Well, I’m not proud to say this, but I suspect I might have been mean to someone once in the past, at some point, for some reason. And, honestly, so have you. So has everyone who has ever lived. My question to you is: Why are you perpetuating the past? Why are you continuing to be victimized by your own personal Regina George (that’s for all you Mean Girls fans out there)? Here’s my advice: You must move on. Enjoy your life, and be grateful every day that you are not those people. And if that doesn’t work, meet Patty on the corner with your supplies.
[Patty Hannum thanks her long-lost friend Theresa for recommending her for a job that changed the direction of her career. Raschelle Burton is only mean to people who have it coming to them—you know who you are!]
Photo: Colin Miller of Strauss Peyton
