it is -instring story article
Answers
Answer:
<HTML>
<BODY>
<TABLE BORDER="5" BGCOLOR="CYAN" ALIGN="CENTER">
<TR><TD>
<FORM>
ENTER YOUR NAME:
<INPUT TYPE="TEXTBOX" SIZE="30">
<BR><BR>
ENTER YOUR PASSWORD:
<INPUT TYPE="PASSWORD" SIZE="8">
<BR><BR>
EDUCATION QUALIFICATION:
<INPUT TYPE="CHECKBOX" VALUE="5" NAME="Q"> CLASS-V
<INPUT TYPE="CHECKBOX" VALUE="6" NAME="Q"> CLASS-VI
<INPUT TYPE="CHECKBOX" VALUE="7" NAME="Q"> CLASS-VII
<BR><BR>
GENDER:
<INPUT TYPE="RADIO" VALUE="M" NAME="GEN">MALE
<INPUT TYPE="RADIO" VALUE="F" NAME="GEN">FEMALE
<BR><BR>
<CENTER>
<INPUT TYPE="SUBMIT" VALUE="SUBMIT">
<INPUT TYPE="RESET" VALUE="CANCEL">
</CENTER>
</FORM>
</TD></TR></TABLE>
</BODY>
</HTML>
Explanation:
Subscribe
Sign In
Communication
What’s Your Story?
by Herminia Ibarra and Kent Lineback
From the January 2005 Issue
At a recent networking event, senior managers who’d been downsized out of high-paying corporate jobs took turns telling what they had done before and what they were looking for next. Person after person stood up and recounted a laundry list of credentials and jobs, in chronological order. Many felt compelled to begin with their first job, some even with their place of birth. The accounting was meticulous.
Most people spent their allotted two minutes (and lost the attention of those around them) before they even reached the punch line—the description of what they were seeking. Those who did leave time to wrap up tended merely to list the four or five (disparate) things they might be interested in pursuing next. In the feedback sessions that followed each round of presentations, these “fact tellers” were hard to help. The people listening couldn’t readily understand how their knowledge and contacts might bear upon the teller’s situation. Even worse, they didn’t feel compelled to try very hard.
In our research and coaching on career reorientation, we’ve witnessed many people struggling to explain what they want to do next and why a change makes sense. One of us, in the context of writing a book, has studied a wide variety of major career shifts; the other has worked extensively with organizations and individuals on the use of narrative to bring about positive change. Each of us has been to enough networking events to know that the one we’ve described here is not unusual. But we’ve also seen a lot of people in the midst of significant transitions make effective use of contacts and successfully enlist supporters. What we’ve come to understand is that one factor more than any other makes the difference: the ability to craft a good story.
Why You Need a Story
All of us tell stories about ourselves. Stories define us. To know someone well is to know her story—the experiences that have shaped her, the trials and turning points that have tested her. When we want someone to know us, we share stories of our childhoods, our families, our school years, our first loves, the development of our political views, and so on.
Seldom is a good story so needed, though, as when a major change of professional direction is under way—when we are leaving A without yet having left it and moving toward B without yet having gotten there. In a time of such unsettling transition, telling a compelling story to coworkers, bosses, friends, or family—or strangers in a conference room—inspires belief in our motives, character, and capacity to reach the goals we’ve set.
Let’s be clear: In urging the use of effective narrative, we’re not opening the door to tall tales. By “story” we don’t mean “something made up to make a bad situation look good.” Rather, we’re talking about accounts that are deeply true and so engaging that listeners feel they have a stake in our success. This dynamic was lacking in the event described above. Without a story, there was no context to render career facts meaningful, no promise of a third act in which achieving a goal (getting a job, for instance) would resolve the drama.
Creating and telling a story that resonates also helps us believe in ourselves. Most of us experience the transition to a new working life as a time of confusion, loss, insecurity, and uncertainty. We are scared. “Will I look back one day and think this was the best thing that ever happened?” we ask ourselves. “Or will I realize that this was the beginning of the end, that it was all downhill from here?” We oscillate between holding on to the past and embracing the future. Why? We have lost the narrative thread of our professional life. Without a compelling story that lends meaning, unity, and purpose to our lives, we feel lost and rudderless. We need a good story to reassure us that our plans make sense—that, in moving on, we are not discarding everything we have worked so hard to accomplish and selfishly putting family and livelihood at risk. It will give us motivation and help us endure frustration, suffering, and hard work.