Recently, I turned 17, an age that marks the beginning of existential anxiety for many students. I have realized recently that all of my life in school up to this point has been preparation and resume building for my future, which I envision to be college, potentially grad school, and if all goes according to plan, a job one day that both excites me and supports me.
Apps like LinkedIn are good tools for kids to begin preparing for a working life down the line, creating an online resume/profile. When I built my own profile earlier this year, I stuck to the script. I put up my favorite headshot of myself in a suit, some details about my history of education, and kind of left the rest to be filled in as I build more of a resume for myself. When I took on this article, I expected to be writing much about the uniquely competitive atmosphere of LinkedIn, but in the process of creating this article, I found that LinkedIn is quite similar to most other social media sites. Creating my profile, I acted no differently than my Instagram – I chose a photo I thought would fit best the audience I was appealing to and I catered the information I shared to make sure it was both relevant and made me look good. On the surface, what makes LinkedIn seem unique is that the ultimate goal is not to look good for your peers, but rather to look good for potential employers. This dynamic, however, simply isn’t the reality for high-schoolers. For us, LinkedIn is less about impressing recruiters and more about impressing each other.
The majority of my connections are current and former Parker students, and I have yet to see a student still in high school post, which begs the question for me of what dynamics are true for LinkedIn. I had a conversation with senior Max Satterfield, a long-time user of the platform, who told me of a competition he had with his friends to get to 500 connections. “Once you get to 500 connections, it says 500+ instead of saying the actual number, and you look more established,” Satterfield said. Further, Satterfield told me in our conversation how he felt that the appearance of one’s profile is a “competition similar to a college application.” LinkedIn is a competitive atmosphere, but this may be specific to a certain demographic as opposed to universal. LinkedIn is a competitive atmosphere across the board, but I find that there is a specific niche in which it thrives. The competition is nowhere else as serious as it is in the world of finance. Whenever I see LinkedIn, seriously, it almost always coincides with a mention of the finance industry.
Guys want to go into finance. It’s the ultimate goal of money and status, or at least that’s been the sell of social media recently. Movies like “The Wolf of Wall Street” have glorified a frat-like culture of going into finance, the kind of work-hard-play-hard stuff that made college QB Johnny Manziel one of the most idolized men in the world. There is something so appealing, so “have my cake and eat it too” about making tons of money while not maturing past high school one bit. While not pursuing this life myself, likely due to my interests and age, my algorithms constantly recommend me videos about finance, and I see two recurring themes. Either glorified Wolf of Wall Street-inspired videos, or street interviews with people in finance giving advice to viewers of the channel. In those advice videos, often LinkedIn coffee chats are listed as something that aspiring college students and post-grads should look for with established people in finance, which are kind of like informal interviews. The problem is that everyone in finance has their messages constantly hit by these ambitious kids. The way these kids set themselves apart is through their profiles: Experience, Education, Awards, etcetera. “Especially for finance, recruiting starts really early, so it’s really important to have a good face online so that a good impression is made when someone clicks on your profile,” Satterfield said. What shows on a LinkedIn profile then becomes a priority for finance-hopeful kids. This atmosphere of finance is just extreme, though; it’s not unique.
The bigger picture is that in our overcrowded meritocratic society, kids in their 20’s are subjected to a never-ending resume built in hopes of a connection, a coffee chat. It starts in high school, having the most connections, going to the best college, then finding internships, putting yourself out there, and making good impressions. Here at Parker, we live in such a competitive environment, and it shows beyond high school. Many of my connections are recently graduated Parker students, and LinkedIn becomes for them a place where, instead of comparing their social life, they compare success, internships, jobs, awardsit becomes the place of professional comparison. In our small community, it’s easy to get caught up in the lives of everyone else, and when it comes to our futures, this can feel so overwhelming. As for a solution, I don’t have one that wouldn’t sound straight out of a Ted Talk, so I’ll end with this: LinkedIn is a great tool, and should be used only as such.
