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PART I:
Making a Start
1
The Real Steve McKnight
The third year of my RMIT accounting degree (which was called a āco-opā year) required that I find 12 months of relevant paid work experience. This was no easy task as back in 1991 the economy was in the grips of a recession and accounting jobs were pretty tough to land. Unlike some of my less fortunate peers, of the maximum 10 resumes that I was allowed to submit, I managed to secure three first-round interviews. One was at the massive accounting firm Price Waterhouse, another at The Herald and Weekly Times, and a third at a small accounting practice called Boyd Partners.
My job interview at Price Waterhouse was a disaster. First up, when they rang to arrange an interview I wasnāt home and my brother answered the phone. When the lady provided her return contact number it started with 666, to which my brother quipped, āYouāre not the devil, are you?ā As you can imagine, I nearly died when he told me!
Still, despite my brotherās best intentions, I was granted an interview a couple of days later, and I turned up full of confidence dressed in a lovely new black suit, white shirt and pink, swirly floral tie. Sadly though, the interview didnāt last very long. I bombed out badly when asked, āSo, what would be your dream job?ā Having no experience in interview politics, I answered truthfully when I said, āI really enjoy basketball coaching and I can see myself finishing my degree and going into sports management.ā
Well, the interview basically ended there and then! Later my uni friends advised me of the ācorrectā answer: āIād really like to work long hours for you as I canāt imagine anything better than a long and fulfilling career here at <insert organisation name>ā.
Oh well, one interview down and two more to go.
The Herald and Weekly Times interview went much better, and I believe I would have been in the running for the job had the organisation not needed to cut back staff. After the interview I received a letter. It began by thanking me for my interest (not what you want to read at the start of such a letter), and advising me that the company had decided to withdraw from the RMIT co-op program for cost-saving reasons.
Things were becoming desperate. I only had one shot left ā Boyd Partners. Whilst this firm was offering two places, one of them had already been snapped up by a fellow student named Andrew. Later I would learn that Andrew did some clever extracurricular groundwork and had sewn up the position well before the interview process even began. Nevertheless, walking into the interview, I had my mumās wise words ringing in my ears: āJust be yourself, and itāll happen if itās meant to beā.
I had the interview with Sue, one of the partners, and it was the best of the three. We seemed to click and I liked the sound of working in a small team. Later Sue told me that the last position was a two-horse race ā a choice between myself and another. Luckily, I was offered (and subsequently accepted) the job, which came with the kingly starting salary of $20,000! Itās a little quirky, but to this day Iāll divide the profit I make from a property deal into $20,000 lots. I then equate each lot to a year of blood, sweat, tears and timesheets that Iāve saved myself.
SAD SUNDAY NIGHTS
Sue was merciful in granting me that job; my university marks certainly didnāt warrant the position. I was mainly a passes and credits student. I did manage to get a distinction for the first year subject āGeneration and Distribution of Wealthā, but that didnāt count for much since the subject was completely assessed based on assignments and class participation, so all you had to do was turn up and you would at least score a credit!
Itās not that I wasnāt extremely grateful for the job, but within a few months of starting I began to feel like a fish out of water. It was a great place to work ā everything that was promised and more. My problem was that I came to the conclusion that I didnāt want to be an accountant. Slowly over time my feelings of being unsettled turned into despair at having to work in a job that I didnāt like. I hated Sunday afternoons as I started to think about having to go to work the following day. Sunday nights were even worse, as Iād have to spend an hour of precious time ironing five shirts for the week ahead. While I may sound like a sook, sometimes Iād even cry!
Even now, from time to time on a Sunday afternoon Iāll look down at my watch and be gripped with a small glimpse of sudden dread. Should I be running a Sunday seminar, Iāll tell the audience about it and see knowing looks on a lot of faces. Looks that say, āI know what you mean! I have to go home after this seminar and iron shirts for the week ahead myselfā.
As a child, what did you want to do when you were grown up? I wonder then, and particularly so if youāre unhappy, how did you end up where you are right now?
Something powerful that Iāve come to learn is that our life (and investment) positions are the direct results of the choices we make. If you want a different outcome, then you need to make different choices.
A SLOW LEARNER
My wife, Julie, will tell you that Iām a slow learner. Although Iād love to dispute this, it really must be true because I persisted as an accountant for 10 and a half years before finally turning my back on the profession once and for all.
Looking back, I was always co...