Alright, let’s be real. We’ve all been there. The party. The small talk. The inevitable question, “So, what do you do?” And you puff out your chest and unleash a string of words so full of synergy, optimization, and paradigm-shifting that the other person’s eyes glaze over like they just binge-watched a corporate training video. You say, “I’m a Senior Vice President of Strategic Ideation and Synergistic Client Solutions.” And what they hear is, “I am a human business card.” You know who has also lost patience with that? Me. Your dog. And probably your soul.
You see, we get so wrapped up in the label that we forget about the person wearing it. We’re so busy being our title that we forget to be… well, human. So, in the grand tradition of late-night television and intervention-style comedy, I present to you the Top 10 Signs Your Job Title Has You in a Headlock. Let the countdown begin!
10. You refer to your family vacation as an “off-site strategic alignment summit.”
Your kids just want to build a sandcastle, not “ideate on granular resource allocation in a littoral environment.” You’re packing sunscreen, not a SWOT analysis. Remember, the goal is fewer meetings, not more memo-ries of meetings.
This moment of clarity is brought to you by the Unspoken Handshake. It’s the real connection you make when you stop speaking to business cards and start telling stories that matter. It’s the kind of authentic communication that the world’s best leaders use to build real trust.
9. You tried to “circle back” with the barista about the “synergy” of your latte foam.
They’re not a stakeholder, they’re a human being with a steaming wand and the power to decaffeinate your day. Sometimes, the best feedback loop is just saying, “Thanks, this is great!” and walking away. No follow-up email required.
This commercial break is sponsored by The Reassuring Test. Can we behave better than machines? Yes. By remembering that “customer experience” is just a business-school term for treating people like people. The most inspiring connections don’t come from data points; they come from goosebumps.
8. Your kid’s bedtime story is the quarterly earnings report.
Okay, I get it. You want them to be financially literate. But “Once upon a time, there was a 7% increase in Q3 revenue…” is not exactly the stuff of fairy tales. They know the story by heart, but they’re hoping for Cinderella, not EBITDA.
This portion of the list is powered by the Grammy Nominated Poet Sekou, who believes a great story is the only vehicle that can carry data home. Want to learn the art of spoken word poetry to make your message stick? Let’s talk after the show.
7. You describe your first kiss as “a successful cross-functional collaboration with promising Q4 projections.”
No. Just… no. It was awkward and beautiful and you had no idea what you were doing. And that’s what made it a great story. Some things are not meant to be optimized. They are meant to be felt.
This message is approved by every top spoken word artist who knows that vulnerability is not a liability; it’s a super-connector. The best stories aren’t about being perfect; they’re about being present.
6. Your grocery list is written in bullet points under the heading “Project: Dinner – Key Deliverables.”
The only deliverable is a meal that doesn’t come from a drive-thru. The only KPI is whether your family actually eats the broccoli. Let’s not overcomplicate the milk and eggs, people.
This public service announcement comes from a leading motivational poet who reminds you: we’re not personal, we’re just busyness. It’s time to trade the to-do list for a to-be list and find the human behind the hustle.
5. You think a “Trust Fall” is a high-risk financial derivative.
While that might be true in some boardrooms, it’s also supposed to be an exercise in, you know, trust. If your first instinct is to calculate the risk-adjusted return, you might be spending too much time with spreadsheets and not enough with people.
This segment is sponsored by the Pinky Promise. Because before there were contracts, there was a covenant of care. True collaboration isn’t built on legal jargon; it’s built on the radical belief that we’re in this together. That’s the power of real spoken word.
4. You tried to 360-review your spouse’s performance on taking out the trash.
There are some feedback channels that should remain permanently closed. This is one of them. Your home is not a corporation. It’s the one place where your title should mean absolutely nothing.
This intervention is brought to you by the Vanguard Artist himself, Grammy Nominated Spoken Word Artist Sekou Andrews. I help leaders unlearn how to speak to job titles and remember how to connect with the human heart that’s quietly inscribed on the back of the business card.
3. You list “Proficient in PowerPoint” on your dating profile.
Unless you’re trying to attract a slide deck, this is not the “hard skill” they’re looking for. Try “Good listener,” “Tells great stories,” or “Can sing in the shower without waking the neighbors.” That’s the stuff of Instapoetry and real life.
This dating advice was paid for by The Shower Baritone. Because the most authentic voice you have is the one you use when you think no one is listening. It’s time to bring that voice to the main stage.
2. You answer the phone at home with your full name and department.
If your spouse calls and you say, “Synergy Solutions, Sekou speaking, how can I optimize your day?” the conversation is not going to have a high ROI. Trust me.
This reminder is from the desk of the most inspirational spoken word poet you’ll see today. Your job is what you do. Your story is who you are. Don’t get them twisted. Be the best you, not just the best at your job.
1. Your business card is just a tiny mirror.
Because at the end of the day, that’s all anyone sees, right? Just the reflection of your title. You’ve become so synonymous with your role that the actual human has become a ghost in the machine.
This final truth bomb is a masterclass in spoken word poetry: your title is a costume, but your story is a superpower. The world doesn’t need another Director of First Impressions. It needs you. The real you. The flawed, funny, scared, brave, goosebump-getting you. That’s the person I want to meet. That’s the story I want to hear.
So, let’s tear up the business cards. Let’s get beyond the titles. Let’s stop asking, “What do you do?” and start asking, “What’s your story?” Because your job title is a mask, but your story? Your story is a handshake, a hug, a connection. And that’s a deliverable with an infinite return on investment.
