Launching out on your own can seem daunting, particularly when you've spent the bulk of your career in one setting (in my case, academia). My last post was about why I decided to leave academia to start Rise. This post has tips for making that type of move.

In thinking through this post, I talked to many of my grad school peers who pursued non-academic jobs. Some ended up in government, some in industry, and a handful launched out on their own. While this post is perhaps most applicable to those thinking about leaving academia, the insights apply across professional transitions.

First, some advice if you've decided to depart from your current professional path but don't know where to go:

1. Talk to people in different jobs about their jobs. Ask them what they like about the job, what they don't. Ask what makes someone a good fit for the job, what doesn't. What they did before and where they see themselves down the road. This one may seem obvious, but it is something I wish I had done more of.
2. Try other types of jobs. If you're at a university now, maybe this means interning in a government or industry job. For me, it meant working part-time at a social policy think tank while I was finishing my dissertation. These types of opportunities can come about informally (mine did) - so reaching out to people or organizations that you are interested in working with can be a way to secure a temporary position or internship.
   

If you're considering jobs outside of university settings, build skills that will apply in a variety of professional settings:

1. Practice communicating to different types of audiences. Those currently in universities know how hard it is to translate the highly technical language of academia to an outside audience. I had the good fortune of being in an interdisciplinary policy program and was always translating my research across disciplines and professional groups. In practice, this looks like like presenting at non-academic professional conferences or writing up your work for newsletters and blogs.
2. Related to the point above, learn how to frame your experiences in ways that are more broadly understood. As one of my peers who now works in government noted: "Getting grants... translates to “resource management” in non-academic speak. Think of your committee members as stakeholders that you need buy-in from. And think of the dissertation as project management. I think being able to frame the PhD in those terms helps with non-academic jobs and helps others who don’t have a PhD understand why your experience is an asset."
3. Build up those skills that translate easily. If you're good w/numbers, take additional data analysis classes, perhaps in a business or policy school, to broaden your understanding of where such skills might be useful. If you're good with languages, take advanced language classes.
4. Don't downplay your practical experience. As one of my peers who now works at a policy research organization noted: "across disciplines we’re looking to see actual engagement with data and with the programs being studied. So less theory, more talking to and working with people on the ground."

If you're thinking of launching out on your own:

1. Do some market research. Who would you work with and what type of work would you do? Is there evidence that other freelancers or small businesses are making it work? How would you find work and secure those contracts?
2. Engage a business coach. They can help you identify your strengths as well as figure out some of those business concepts (like what the heck is marketing and why should I use LinkedIn?). I've spoken at length on social media about how awesome Stephanie Evergreen's mentoring was for me (you can find her recently launched class here), but you can also find great classes and resources through government programs (like this one in MN) or nonprofits like SCORE.
   
3. Find a group of others who are going through it too. Becoming your own boss can be a steep learning curve and it's helpful to have people to bounce ideas off of who identify with what you're going through.

Finally, once you're at the point of applying to new jobs or building your own professional network, my super smart cousin who went the industry route (to Indeed, no less) had some awesome practical advice: "I wish every grad program included a career planning course where students:

• Sharpen their resume (both academic and industry options)
• Draft a cover letter (one for each track),
• Conduct 3 informational interviews,
• Join 3 organizations or networking groups,
• Secure their own personal board of directors comprised of their champions representing a variety of industries and levels of tenure,
• Hold 5 mock interviews with their peers,
• Develop their portfolio showcasing excellent writing samples and projects, 
• Develop a budget based on projected income,
• Research LinkedIn profiles of people in roles of interest.

Full disclosure: it took me awhile to figure out that entrepreneurship was the way to go. Before starting Rise, I applied to a range of jobs in government, at think tanks - even some at university-based research centers. None of them had what I was looking for, but all of them helped me learn about other types of jobs -- eventually getting me to where I am now.

Each year, I get contacted by grad students, post-docs, and asst. professors who want to learn more about my journey out of academia and into Rise Research. These are typically folks who are thinking about leaving academia -- finding it too restrictive or jobs too few and far between.

I thought I'd write up some of what I share in those conversations for others who are interested. As background, I trained and worked in a university setting for nearly 20 years prior to starting Rise. This post is about why I made the move.

1. I wanted to feel more of an impact with my work. If you're reading this, you probably find a lot of fulfillment in analyzing data and answering big questions. Me too! But there is a big gap between landing an article in a leading journal and feeling an impact outside of academia. The incentives of academia can make it difficult to achieve the latter, and that's what I wanted to do.

2. There was a need for my skills. Before launching out on my own, I did a lot of market research. What would I work on? Who would hire me? I learned that there are a lot of potential funders (public and philanthropic) in MN, a strong interest in understanding and improving social programs, and a robust network of public and nonprofit orgs that I could work with. I also talked to a number of local freelancers and consultants who were making it work. This convinced me that I could too.

3. I wanted to self-direct. This is why I chose entrepreneurship over a think tank or government job. As an entrepreneur, you choose the projects that you work on and the partners you work with. Only possible as your own boss.

4. I wanted to be flexible in my approach. The world feels like it is changing so rapidly and it is important to be able to quickly pivot to a new topic or way of working. Case in point -- our team was able to quickly develop and refine Rise Data Walks in response to increasing interest in engaging community members in research and evaluation projects. This would have been a lot harder to do at a big organization with an established set of products and operational practices.

5. Finally, I wanted to lean into my strengths. For so many years I felt like I had to turn off parts of myself in academia. I felt like I wasn't using skills in communication, relationship-building, and seeing outside the box. As an entrepreneur, you have the ability to craft your work in a way that builds on those things that make you who you are. This is an incredibly rewarding feeling.

Does this sound familiar? Stay tuned for the next post, where I'll talk about different ways to make the move.

As 2021 winds to a close, we have been doing some reflecting about our experiences and lessons learned this year. Even though making it through a second year of the pandemic is pretty much a win in itself, here are a few other things we've taken away from this year.

1. There is value in sharing knowledge widely. Knowledge that stays trapped -- whether in universities, in practice, or in communities -- is a huge barrier to change. We need to share the findings from our work beyond our professional settings, thinking creatively about ways to distill and disseminate information to diverse audiences, using different approaches and mediums.
   
2. We need to meet people where they're at. If COVID taught us anything, its the importance of listening and adapting - whether by being flexible w/deadlines or methods, building in extra support, of creating space to process where people find themselves in that moment.
3. It is important to invest in relationships, on every project. Strong relationships with clients lead to better experience, a stronger final product, and new and unexpected activities and adventures. Some of the coolest experiences we've had have come out of strong partnerships that have been given space to grow and adapt to new opportunities.
4. Don't do it alone - particularly if you're a freelancer or small business owner. There is so much expertise and talent out there! Rather than try to do everything, find partners with complementary skills, build a better team - and have more fun in the process!
5. Embrace the uncomfortable. Changing systems means disrupting and rebuilding practices, organizational practices, and relationships - none of which is comfortable! Don't fight against it, but work with and through this discomfort to build better systems.

And that's a wrap on 2021 lessons! Looking forward to a new year of partnerships, learning, and change.

Y'all, I'm tired.

Tired from the year of home-schooling kids and endless work meetings on Zoom. Tired from the backlog of work that followed my breakthrough COVID case. And so so incredibly tired of worrying and then uttering sighs of relief only to worry again.

If there's one consistency I've seen across Rise projects this year, it's how tired everyone is. Whether the project is about public health, homelessness, or transportation policy, folks are just exhausted. I've seen this show up explicitly in survey responses, interview data, and in facilitated discussions. Sometimes I've just felt it in a virtual meeting or in how people respond. The burnout is real and it's affecting everyone from recipients of social programs to case managers, public leaders, and business owners.

I've thought a lot recently about how we transition into a post-pandemic (or less pandemic-y) world; what it means for our projects, our data collection and analysis strategies, and how we engage across systems and sectors. I'm not exactly sure what the 'after' looks like, but one thing that is abundantly clear is that things are not going to snap back to normal - nor should they.

COVID forced us to do a better job of meeting people where they were at. At Rise, we extended more grace to our partners and thought more deeply about how to alleviate burdens associated with data collection and analysis. We were more flexible with projects and timelines. In our interactions, we led by recognizing and creating space for our shared struggles.

The effects of the pandemic will be long-lasting and the need to meet people where they are at will continue in the months and years following our collective return to normalcy. Let's continue to extend grace and flexibility, work to alleviate  burdens for others, and create space for recognizing our shared humanity in all of our interactions.