d her recently if she wanted to go back to marketing someday,
she responded that she believes human resources allows her to have a greater overall impact.

The most common metaphor for careers is a ladder, but this concept no longer applies to most
workers. As of 2010, the average American had eleven jobs from the ages of eighteen to forty-six
1
alone. This means that the days of joining an organization or corporation and staying there to climb
that one ladder are long gone. Lori often quotes Pattie Sellers, who conceived a much better metaphor:
“Careers are a jungle gym, not a ladder.”

As Lori describes it, ladders are limiting—people can move up or down, on or off. Jungle gyms
offer more creative exploration. There’s only one way to get to the top of a ladder, but there are many
ways to get to the top of a jungle gym. The jungle gym model benefits everyone, but especially
women who might be starting careers, switching careers, getting blocked by external barriers, or
reentering the workforce after taking time off. The ability to forge a unique path with occasional dips,
detours, and even dead ends presents a better chance for fulfillment. Plus, a jungle gym provides great
views for many people, not just those at the top. On a ladder, most climbers are stuck staring at the
butt of the person above.

A jungle gym scramble is the best description of my career. Younger colleagues and students
frequently ask me how I planned my path. When I tell them that I didn’t, they usually react with
surprise followed by relief. They seem encouraged to know that careers do not need to be mapped out
from the start. This is especially comforting in a tough market where job seekers often have to accept

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what is available and hope that it points in a desirable direction. We all want a job or role that truly
excites and engages us. This search requires both focus and flexibility, so I recommend adopting two
concurrent goals: a long-term dream and an eighteen-month plan.

I could never have connected the dots from where I started to where I am today. For one thing,
Mark Zuckerberg was only seven years old when I graduated from college. Also, back then,
technology and I did not exactly have a great relationship. I used Harvard’s computer system only
once as an undergraduate, to run regressions for my senior thesis on the economics of spousal abuse. ^^網^
The data was stored on large, heavy magnetic tapes that I had to lug in big boxes across campus,
cursing the entire way and arriving in a sweaty mess at the sole computer center, which was populated
exclusively with male students. I then had to stay up all night spinning the tapes to input the data.
When I tried to execute my final calculations, I took down the entire system. That’s right. Years
before Mark famously crashed that same Harvard system, I beat him to it.

When I graduated from college, I had only the vaguest notion of where I was headed. This
confusion was in deep contrast to my father’s clear conviction of what he wanted to do from a young
age. When my dad was sixteen, he felt a sharp abdominal pain during a basketball practice. My
grandmother—good Jewish mother that she was—assumed it was hunger and fed him a big dinner.
That made it worse. He ended up in the hospital, where he was diagnosed with acute appendicitis, but
because he had eaten, they couldn’t operate for twelve excruciating hours. The next morning, a
surgeon removed his appendix and, along with it, the pain. My father chose his career that day,