My love affair with travel began pretty early on. As a five year old traveling between my mother (who married an Air Force captain) and my dad (who stayed in sunny California, where I was born), I navigated airports and traveled treacherous Canadian roads to get to the nearest airport that offered non-stop flights to Sacramento. I saw it all as an adventure, for the most part, and reveled in the one on one attention that comes from a 6 hour road trip with one’s parent.

I was little. And annoying. And I got to travel by myself. Which meant I got Necco wafers, pressed the “call” button whenever I had to go to the restroom and was often moved to empty rows when I wanted a place to stretch out and sleep. Stewardesses (which is what they were CALLED then) were sweet to me and pilots let me hang out up front and I got the sic little golden wings that they handed out like candy back in the day.

There was for sure a downside. I had to learn on my own how to unplug my ears, watch my mom cry as she watched me walk down the jetway, carry all my own little bags, deal with smoky planes (yes I am THAT old) and then watch my dad cry as he watched me leave when it was time to head home.

But travel never lost its luster for me. Even when it was a tiny little trip to a mundane (to some) location like Grand Forks, ND; Branson, Missouri; or Laguna Beach, CA, I’ve always been eager to see what new landscapes, promises and challenges lived just around the corner from me. I savored each travel story and told it to my sisters waiting back home, showing off my mixed tapes from the ultra-cool California.

In every place I lived or traveled, I had friends and/or family who knew and loved me (or at least I believed they did). I’ve slept on couches, pull-out beds, dirt floors, lofts and one time in an effort to calm a very upset Albanian baby, in a crib. I’ve eaten just about everything you can imagine and yes, I drank the water in Mexico but managed to get food poisoning in New York.

“I made it through the Louvre in an hour at a dead run.” Grace Adler, Will and Grace

I love art. I pored over my mother’s books on Michelangelo’s Pieta from Rome. I sleep with a Moses Soyer book next to my bed and I’ve shamelessly ripped prints from a Matisse book just so I could hang them in my bathroom. But take me to a museum and I will lose it. Just as light cannot exist without the darkness, I have trouble seeing art juxtaposed with….other art. So I take it where I can get it, find beauty where others might overlook it, in the gentle curve of a salesgirl’s charming overbite as she bilks me out of my Euros for a cheap scarf. In the forked tail of a swallow (which did you know makes the male swallow MUCH more attractive than his counterpart, the deeper the fork….well you get my drift) as he flies by my hotel window.

Languages entrance me, particularly the romance ones. I took latin in high school and spanish in college but the best I can must now is figuring out the roots of words to help my kids with their homework and also asking “Where are my pants?” in Spanish. I wish I had a better ear for languages but I don’t. My husband however, is a language genius and for a brief shining moment, we were planning on living in Germany.

I can hear the snide remarks now. So, you love art but don’t want to look at it. You adore languages but can’t speak any fluently? Oh sure Maren, you’re a world traveler for SURE.

Well, I can’t help my nature. See for me traveling has always been more about the experience than the um, knowledge. Actually, you might even sum up my whole life that way.

For instance, I’ll never forget running through Paris underground with a Spaniard, a Frenchman and Kim Mance, who knew a little French (we’ve already discussed my particular linguistic talents) and having an international game of telephone that was, in a word hilarious. Incidentally, we talked a Hotel DeVille official into letting us use the ice skating rink after it was closed. I may not know much French but getting on your knees in front of an amused Parisian policeman transcends mere words.

To be continued…

By now, many of you might have heard that I’m no longer with RecruitingBlogs.com and have found a new professional home at Galavanting Productions. Those of you who follow me closely will know that CEO Kim Mance and I are longtime friends and fierce collaborators and have been for at least 7 years now.

Galavanting Productions owns several properties including TravelBlogExchange.com, GoGalavanting.com and Galavanting.tv. I’ll be overseeing all marketing strategy for everyone of these projects, including the TBEX conferences (here’s the next one TBEX ’10) and our newest project TBEX Connect. I’ll also begin reviewing hotels for GoGalavanting.com, an online travel magazine for women as well as continuing to co-host Galavanting.tv with Kim and Courtney.

It’s a really exciting time and as someone who has been with the company from nearly the beginning, I can’t wait to see what will happen. I’m honestly wondering what will happen when Kim and I work together full time. It could get scary (good scary that is).

Speaking of scary, all this great stuff comes with a flip side, as things in life often do. To fully pursue the opportunities open to me, I have to say some goodbyes. In order to receive something your hand must be open, not a closed fist, still holding tightly to something that is no longer yours.

I have to leave an industry that has been my home for the last three years. I have to say goodbye to friends and colleagues who have been my “family on the road” and to professionals that opened their arms to a complete newcomer. I have to leave a job I know I am good at and a company I know I made better with my presence. I have to leave co-workers with whom I have inside jokes and a seamless integration of personalities. I need to remove myself from the daily conversations about recruiting and HR because my new role is in a different industry. I’ll have to say goodbye to a schedule I was used to and tasks I had gotten comfortable doing. I’d built my social hierarchy within a certain world and now I have to do it all over again.

I’m scared. And I feel alone.

Not because I’m not joining the coolest team ever or because the travel industry hasn’t welcomed me with open arms. But because I am actually quite a timid person and my mom told me 30 was going to be my toughest year and doggone it, I SO didn’t want her to be right. I’ve spent quite a few days thinking about all I’ll be missing. How RecruitFest! will be without me, about my friends heading to SHRM, about plans for RecruitingBlogs that I won’t be around to see come to fruition. And let’s be honest, that just blows.

So…I’m still scared and then I remembered (please indulge me):

I left home and moved out on my own at 16.

I dropped out of high school and went on to graduate college with honors.

I ate the worm.

I got pregnant with my son at 19 and found myself abandoned. I went on to marry a wonderful man who adopted our son.

I climbed a wall of ice even though I was scared to death.

I put an 8 ft long python around my neck to conquer my fear of snakes.

I put my head through a windshield and never lost consciousness.

I traveled across the Adriatic Sea through Rome with a double lung infection, pneumonia and pleurisy.

I took care of abandoned Roma babies and listened to children cry and confess things that should never happen to children.

I delivered three children with no pain medication.

I watched a business my family put its heart, soul and savings into fail, miserably.

I auditioned for American Idol (oh YES, I did)

I walked headfirst into an industry I knew nothing about and learned what I could and served where I could and for three years was proud to call that industry my professional home. I can do it again.

What, exactly, do I have to be scared of? Right.

So I’ll say bye to the people I have to and keep those friendships I cherish and conquer this next big thing:

Love,

Maren

PS- I promise not every post will be this self-involved or maudlin. Stay tuned…if you want.

Someone mentioned recently that I shouldn’t focus on HR, because HR is…not long for this world. Instead, I was told to hone in on talent management. Interesting idea. It gets back to the dead horse I like to beat called “semantics”. Again, I will say that is DOES matter what you call something, even if in popular culture the phrases are used synonymously.

But that’s not what this post is about. This post is about whether or not he was right. There’s been much speculation about the state of HR, HR getting a seat at the table, whether recruiting is a part of HR, whether HR is a valid business function, whether HR is dead. . .you get the point.

So, to say that HR is not long for this world, or that we should cease to put any thought or marketing power behind it, is to say the least, an interesting concept.

Here are the things he could have meant:

1. HR as a term is dead. Maybe he meant that the terminology is going to change but that the basic functions of human resources will re-congeal (terminator 2 like) under a new banner, like talent management. This will blow for those with HR proudly emblazoned in their domain name. But I don’t think that’s what he meant. When business speak changes, the social web is quick to adapt and aside from a few domain name changes, this is hardly a bump in the marketing road.

2. Viewing Humans as Resources is dead. This is a popular theory in my head where I’ve been turning this phrase over and over since I heard it. This is the most likely scenario. So often we hear about the talent economy and how intangible assets and the knowledge worker are becoming a reality. More and more companies are realizing that their employees were never really “theirs” anyway and it’s not such a bad thing right? because it’s the talent they bring to the organization that moves it forward. Right. So managing talent maybe a better way (semantics or no) to look at the business of resources.

3. That the fundamental idea of work is changing and human resources (or anything that looks like it but is named differently) is simply not needed anymore. If people are changing jobs at a faster rate than ever before, is it worth it to pay the equivalent of 1/4 of their salary to find and hire them? If your employees see themselves not as “lifers” but as “consultants” who happen to be at your company for now, should you manage heavy, bureaucratic programs for them? I wonder what the answer is. If your employees are at your company to learn something and constribute something and move on, will you spend money on leadership training? Hmmmm. Maybe the entire function will queitly blend into its respective departments, putting hiring managers back in control of hiring and managing talent. Maybe not.

Regardless of the answer (for my money it’s number 2) it makes me wonder if we’re prepared for it. We write blog posts, have in-depth (sometimes heated) discussions, organize chats, attend webinars and continue to run a pretty bustling little economy here in the industry space. But are we slow dancing in a burning room?

Yesterday I was running around my neighborhood and I ran past as house that has a sagging roof, peeling paint and a yard so overgrown that I chose to run in the street rather than risk any gross nature germs getting on me. As I ran by, I saw a sign, nearly hidden next to the broken (open) rusty gate. “Private Property. No Trespassing.”

I stopped running and just stood there looking at the perfectly lovely houses surrounding it (none of which had a stupid sign) and laughed. Sure dude, keep me out, we’re all clamoring to get in to your nasty yard. Then I yelled “Don’t nobody want to come in your yard anyway.” and then I ran really fast because who knows who lives there?

Thinking about that got me thinking about transparency and what it means and what it looks like and how arrogance is a large part of transparency or lack thereof. Here’s what I mean:

1) Protecting your updates. What that says to me is that you are arrogant. You presume to throw yourself on stage and then shut the curtains. It’s ridiculous and anyone with half a brain can see through the pseudo-humility being displayed. The other thing it could mean is that you are a stalker-attractor and therefore a little wacko anyway. Got a good reason for jumping on the social media bandwagon and hiding under a blanket? Leave it in the comments.

2) Closing or overmoderating comments. When I say overmoderating, I mean moderating out anything that isn’t SPAM or offensive (racist, sexist, profane etc). If you aren’t posting comments because they disagree with the crux of your post, even if you believe they’re wrong, then you are guilty of overmoderating. If you want a website where you are the grand poobah decider of all things, then have one, just don’t expect us to throw our well-crafted similies at your feet for fear they won’t be posted.

3) Being a super snob. Not replying to your @s (not every single one obviously, just the ones that invite response) and undermoderating your blog comments (big guilty person right here folks) are two ways to make people feel as if their opinions don’t matter. There are lots of folks whose blogs are no great shakes but they’ve learned to invite comments and become, in essence, salon directors, skilled at inspiring conversations and encouraging discussion.

4) Not minding your own beeswax. Most people won’t like this one. When twitter came out with the feature that made it so we all couldn’t see each other’s replies, I was relieved. Because I’ll tell you sometimes I can’t take the backslapping, flirting, you-promote-me-and-I’ll-promote-you stuff that goes on around here! If you’re having a conversation that is the professional equivalent of “No… you’re the best”, I can really only deal with two iterations of that before wanting to smack someone. Of course, now all the smart quasi-braggarts have figured out a workaround so we can continue to listen to them say how great they all are.

5) Retweeting how awesome someone else says you are. If I have to explain this, I don’t know what. (my husband said I do this but I don’t. One time someone said I was a crackhead or funny or something and I retweeted that because IT was funny.)

The fact of the matter is, I can understand a “Private Property” sign on a country club, a nice house, even by a smallish apartment pool if it’s clean. Your content, your personality and your brand will speak for itself. If you’re doing the above things, there’s no need to post a private property sign anywhere cuz don’t nobody want to come in your yard anyway.

It is a running joke between my husband and me, that I am incapable of answering “I don’t know” to any question posed to me. Even if I clearly do NOT know, I will guess, or make up a theory, or at least try to come up with an answer. It irritates him (and likely other people who don’t love me enough to say that I am irritating them) because sometimes people ask a question simply so they can tell you the answer. Or maybe to move along a story, or to clarify a point. But, in my adult time on this earth, I have learned that people rarely want to wait around for you to sit and think and dig around in the root of the words to see if you can figure the puzzle out witout their help.

If you’re wondering why I’m like this, here’s the reason. Every time we got into trouble as kids, Mom would say: “WHY did you do that?” and we would (predictably) say: “I don’t know” and then she would say “That is not an acceptable answer”. In essence she was forcing us to examine what drove us to an act of definace, disobedience or downright idiocy. It was a good lesson. Falling back on apathy or disinterest is not something that was allowed in our family and is rarely tolerated if you want to succeed in life anyway.

So my annoying habit actually has roots in a good lession. Here’s why I think saying “I don’t know” is not an acceptable answer:

Sometimes it’s the path of least resistance. This makes it easy to shrug off things that are hard or not fun or less than our “passion”.

If not followed up with a desire to FIGURE IT OUT, it’s just apathetic. It indicates a lack of desire to learn.

It keeps you from having to examine your issues. Why don’t you know?

Here’s why I think “I don’t know” is an acceptable answer:

It can indicate humility.

It’s honest. Sometimes you really don’t know.

It can be a catalyst to have someone wiser explain it to you.

It flies in the face of the expert/guru/genius flu that’s been going around lately.

What do you say when someone asks you a question? Do you try to figure it out? Do you let them explain it? Do you say “I don’t know”?