The Summer Intern

On building relationships beyond hierarchies.

As a young actress, I landed a summer internship with a top casting director under the false pretense that I wanted to be a casting director.

She did the rapid fire assessment that made her a master of her trade and set me up at a makeshift desk outside her office. Then, her assistant pulled out a stack of mail liable for a hoarder's intervention and instructed me to open each manila envelope, unstaple the cover letter from the glossy 8 x 10 head shot, and alphabetically file them away. The casting director would look at them one day. This was a full-time job; dream deferring.

Then, there were the actresses called in for special appointments, dripping glossy it-girl “Hellllloss” and “You loook sooooo good” and “How’s your summmmmmer been?”

One morning, a big film director was coming in. The tension was dumb. There was the mad rush to the store for low-fat string cheese. (The director was on South Beach diet.) Minutes before her arrival, there was a spill in the bathroom. I picked up the Swiffer to clean it. The casting director rushed into the door frame. “I get it,” she said, grabbing the Swiffer and giving it her half-hearted go. I hadn’t been performing the victim. I’d been just trying to help.

I came back in September after my summer vacation. I was wearing a cute new outfit and felt beautiful from time in the sun— almost like the it-girl actresses, breezing in with a story and a joke that lands. Through a tight smile, she asked a few questions. Her trade was sizing people up. It was like talking to a calculator who didn’t trust the numbers.

I didn’t want to learn about casting. I wanted to be cast. Our exchanges were as draining for her as they were disappointing for me. I hadn’t been just trying to help. I wanted everything from her.

No relationship developed. She never even took me out to lunch to answer all my questions except the one I was really asking, ”Will you cast me in anything?” I was another alphabetized face with too much eyeliner that she’d never get to.

It wasn't cruelty. It was self-preservation. What separates us protects us. In a system built upon using people, protection is necessary. The intern will sit outside the office.

Hierarchies make real relationships almost impossible. We assess people for what we can get or what they might take. Powerless to control one another; we manipulate. But no one can make us more or less worthy. And, if no one is above or below us, no task is either. We take the next right action, picking up the Swiffer with our whole hearts.

So what to do? Strategic Webbing is our radically different approach to traditional networking. This is both a practice and a paradigm shift—from transactional to genuine relationships, aligning towards a shared vision. You can purchase the stand-alone program, including a coaching session with me, by going to www.the-next-level.com/training

For an inspired conversation on new organizational structures, stay tuned for the next Listen to Lead pod-drop with Nick Leavens of Black Heart 🖤 on transitioning from CEO to a distributive leadership model. Follow Listen to Lead.

Emergence is a principle of nature in which the whole system is more than the sum of its parts. The opposite is also true. When one part suffers, the whole cannot flourish. It's fine and good to think about strategic vision. But how’s your intern doing? In fact, I think these days you have to pay her.

Applications are now open for Success Circles membership.

#strategicwebbing #networking #relationshipsatwork #ethicalorganizations #distributiveleadership #connectedleadership #successcircles

Lucia brizziFebruary 5, 2024