DiplomatsInTheMist

The storm before the calm

2012-02-15T16:04:00.000-08:00

Let's be frank. The whole reason I took the foreign service exam was because my law firm was crumbling around me. The writing was on the wall after a partnership dispute and various other misfortunes left revenues unable to keep up with expenses. We did quality work and were involved in some high profile patent infringement cases, so I optimistically told myself it was all temporary. The partners did a pretty good job of hiding the seriousness of the firm's plight, too, borrowing to pay Christmas bonuses. This is probably why I was shocked when I was given three months' notice that the firm wasn't going to be able to afford my salary.

As part of my job search, I discovered the foreign service. I fell in love with the job on the spot. I wanted to live all over the world and to learn languages for the betterment of my country. All that was and is still true. But what I also wanted were tangibles the law doesn't provide. Foremost, I wanted stable employment. Lawyers, and especially litigators, are only riding as high as their last win, their current client list, and whether they can bill enough to keep themselves going. It's lucrative, but also extremely unstable. If you're new, stability is something for which you are entirely dependant upon the partnership. Can they generate enough business to justify my presence? This question is constantly on everybody's mind. Not a fun way to go through the work week. Couple that with the long hours, the time away from family, the pressure, the travel, and sometimes, the abuse, and it gets a lot not funner. Next on that list of tangibles, and somewhat related to stability is down time. In the almost four years I have been in practice, I have not taken one extended vacation. Weekends, holidays, and even traditional federal and bank holidays, are all meaningless to litigation attorneys. The deadlines, the discovery requests, and client demands never take time off, so rarely do litigators. Time with family, birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, state-of-the-union date nights, all take a back seat to whatever brief is due, finding a smoking gun document for trial, or traveling to that deposition in northern Michigan. As we age and have children, the most irreplaceable commodity we have is time, and successful lawyers rob themselves of what is most important in life, in my opinion.

Fast forward two years. That obscure written exam, which was one of a hundred nets I cast in the winter and spring of 2010, led me to receive an offer. But in the meantime, I have put in amazing runs at two different firms. The first was a real estate and banking firm. The second, my current firm, is involved in one of the largest pieces of litigation in history. When I got the call, we were (and are) gearing up for trial. This trial is going to be epic. I am finally doing the kind of work I went to law school to do. In order to facilitate my departure in a manner that isn't going to burn bridges, I am working right up until A-100. The firm is short-handed as it is, but part of me also selfishly doesn't want to miss anything. The case could settle tomorrow or go on for the next four years. Nobody knows. What we do know is that we go to trial in two weeks, and we haven't got enough bodies to handle it.

So in addition to wrapping up my family's entire life here, I am working longer days than ever. I'm sure the registrar is going to want to kill me for completing my paperwork at the last minute (it's due in next week), but I simply don't have enough hours in the day. So one of my primary reasons for becoming an FSO -- time with my family -- is something I am completely abandoning for the next three weeks. I have no doubt that A-100 will be exciting. I've already read some of my classmates' amazing bios. But I'm looking forward to the hours. I'm sure I'll find them almost relaxing compared to this.

Anticipating the unanticipatable

2012-02-03T13:52:00.000-08:00

State announced its May, 2012, specialist class well before announcing its May, 2012, generalist class. Let me explain. Specialists are folks who are hired by the State Department to do very specific types of jobs. Some are security specialists, some are doctors, some nurses, some administrative, etc. They don't have to undergo the gauntlet of testing and retesting that generalist undergo. Generalists are foreign service officers. State has a tentitive schedule of classes lined up for the rest of the fiscal year, which calls for specialist and generalist classes to be held in January, March, May, July, and September. State stressed time and time again in its online forums that these dates are tentitive, especially given the cuts State anticipates to its future budget. And here I was, absolutely CERTAIN that State was going to make copious generalist calls to its March class, with the remainder of the budget secure for the year in November/December of 2011. After all, the January generalist class was called as soon as the budget was finalized and organized in December. This gave me much hope that I would be called next, since the January class dipped into the 5.5s on my register.

But State began making specialist calls several weeks ago, leaving the hopeful generalists in a state of panic and fear that the generalist class might be cancelled. I called in a favor with my local ambassador-in-residence to determine what the holdup was. Word came back that the undersecretary in charge of the hiring decisions hadn't decided whether to even have a generalist class in March. To make matters worse, my plum position on the register began looking less so as several new consular candidates with better OA scores or language points made their way aboard. After the specialist class calls went out, I discovered I'd dropped 6-8 spots! The horror! I told me wife to stand down on the pins and needles because it no longer looked good for us in March.

Then the announcement came that a March class was, in fact, approved, but only for "about 60" officers. Suddenly a rank in the high 20s wasn't looking so hot with an average of 12 people from each of the five cones getting calls. So I told my wife to forget about it. Perhaps my 5.5 would never be good enough given the rate at which new candidates were added. Perhaps the 5.5s called in January were a fluke owing to short notice for the January 17 A-100 and copious invitation turn-downs under the shortened timetable. I watched from the sidelines as folks in the A-100 yahoo group announced their March invites and resigned myself to business-as-usual, living by the billable hour and working hard for a faceless corporate client. I was very happy for the lucky souls who were in, but I knew I was not likely to be one of them. To make matters worse, the schedule of a litigator did not lend itself to the Spanish Skype lessons I would need to pass the telephone language test. I chalked my foreign service dreams up to being just that, and patted myself on the back for making it as far as I have. I told my wife we were doing fine where we are, and half-heartedly said we'd see how the May class panned out.

But to my surprise this past Monday, the coveted (and, for the first time, unsolicited) email showed up in my in-box from the State Department registrar. I am in! It's four days later, and I still can't believe it! It's a second round invite, but they all have the same effect. I told my firm Monday, because it's going to take them at least six weeks to logistically plan for my absense, and for me to train a replacement. My wife is also ecstatic, but she has to find a replacement for herself at her job as well. There's so much do to and to plan for these next 40 days, but I am relieved, nervous, excited and thrilled! Let the adventure begin!

Late nights at the lawberdashery

2012-01-13T18:53:00.000-08:00

My wife noted the other day that I never talked about the birth of our daughter in my blog. She pointed out this discrepancy, as well as the fact that my blog is sporadic in terms of entries. So today I'm going to try filling in some gaps.

In early September, my wife and I welcomed our firstborn into the world. She was breach, so that made the process a little more involved, especially for my wife. C-sections are no fun. Nonetheless, everyone is healthy and happy, so we can't complain. I was getting up to play golf at 5 in the morning, and discovered shortly thereafter that my wife's water had broken. So we went through some contractions together for a while, called her doctor, and then called the hospital and her parents. My wife was calm and heroic throughout the process. And in the end we had a healthy baby girl! Four and a half months later, our girl is in the 95th percentile for height and right in the middle of where she needs to be weight-wise. Table for three, please!

I have learned to bathe, launder for, feed, swaddle and dress an infant, something with which I had no experience before. Every day is an adventure, and coming home is now doubly pleasurable. To counteract my work schedule, I try to be super daddy when I'm home. I bath her and change her before bed. I feed her and put her to sleep when my wife isn't breastfeeding her. I also get her ready for daycare in the morning and drop her off. It's made for some mad dashes to the office, but it's worth it. We maximize our face time this way. Being a father is so much more fun than I ever imagined it would be.

Trouble is, I'm a trial lawyer. More so than any other time of my life, I am coming to terms with the value of time. As we speak, I am in the office awaiting a section of a trial exhibit list on a very big case that's approaching. It's so very not fun compared to what I have waiting for me at home. We really do only get a finite amount of it in our lives. With a wife and baby at home, the time lost with them is an incalculable quality-of-life hit. When I think about the opportunities I will lose with my children if I stay here on a partnership track, leaving is a no-brainer.

I don't disparage the profession as a whole. Goodness knows, it has done great things for us. I am very lucky to be able to think and to write for a living. I have had the opportunity to learn things I never would have learned otherwise. In my spare time, I freed accused men and women in a state that is VERY reluctant to let them go . I have argued in front of juries. I have made passionate, intelligent friends. The life of a lawyer is very rewarding to a great many people, myself included. But it's not a life of balance. One lives and dies by the billable hour. The work is hard and long for very little immediate and tangible benefit given your efforts. [Employed*] Lawyers are paid well, but sacrifice so much in return. From what other profession would the foreign service be seen as a chance to spend more time with family!

So I wistfully await my trial exhibit list draft, peruse photos of my daughter on my phone, and dream about future possibilities.

Word on the street is that State hasn't made up its mind about having a March generalist class, so there will be no resolution this week about my future. So be it. Happy Friday, blogosphere. Tell my daughter I love her.

* We'll talk about what it takes to be an employed lawyer out of law school another time.

What's another day?

2012-01-11T15:07:00.000-08:00

I like my place on the register. I mean I really like it. I feel as though the call could come at any moment. Only it hasn't. I know this is psychological, but my attorney job feels more precarious by the day. I review documents, I do legal analysis. I take a few criminal clients on the side and hope I last long enough to get the call and have a smooth transition. This is not reality, of course. I'm doing fine at work, and I enjoy the criminal appointment cases I occasionally take on the side immensely. There's no reason to think I'm doing poorly as a lawyer at all. If the call never comes, life will go on and I will be fine.

That said, I know State's budget for the remainder of the fiscal year is set. A March 12th specialist class has already been approved. These signs indicate that approval could arrive for a generalist A-100 at any time. Needless to say, I'm distracted, nervous and excited. And I'm not alone. I get multiple texts from my wife every day asking if I've gotten any emails. We're both chomping at the bit to move on.

But if the call doesn't come, part of me will be relieved. We're doing well here. We're prepared to buy a house, new cars, and to have another baby. Our children would get a break on tuition at my wife's school since she's on the faculty. We're on the waiting list for one of the best pre-K day cares in the city. Our plan B is going smashingly. I never thought I'd say this in my life, but I would feel real regret at leaving the south. My wife and I both worked hard and did well here. Would being in the foreign service top that? We may never know, and that would be okay!

A room with a view

2011-12-30T08:33:00.000-08:00

Hey, non-existent readers! There's been a brand new development here at the firm. I got a new office! The view is much better and I'm right next to the biggest and most powerful partner at the firm. It's very exciting. It doesn't come with a big raise or anything, but I am beginning to get recognized for my superior briefing abilities. It's a nice development during this holiday week (well, holiday week for everybody else, anyway). I'm working with a partner on a brief (of course), and my wife and daughter are spending the week visiting the in-laws. So life here has been very quiet. Tonight I'm driving out to join them for New Years Eve weekend. Happy New Year, everyone!

It's all coming together

2011-12-21T09:16:00.000-08:00

It has been a few months since my last entry. The new law firm job is going exceedingly well, although it keeps me busier than I would like. Congress has managed to pass a budget through the end of the fiscal year. State has steadily been filling its A-100 classes. In fact, consular candidates with my OA score were called off the register for the January class, leaving me at approximately the eighth spot on the register for the March A-100. I'm not counting on it, but things are looking pretty good.

Of course, such an early call would be disruptive. My wife would like to complete the school year at her school. She is also organizing a trip to Europe for the language department. I am working on one of the largest pieces of litigation in American history, so ideally I would like to stick it out at the firm until our client settles -- something we all believe is imminent. Unfortunately, the foreign service doesn't operate in the realm of ideals and what is most convenient. We might as well get used to it from the moment we get the call. IF, we get the call, that is.

A light at the end of the debt crisis.

2011-07-29T18:21:00.000-07:00

I only have a moment to write this evening. There have been no new A-100 classes scheduled owing to the trouble in Congress over the debt ceiling and the budget. As frustrating as the situation is, I am happy to report that I landed a job with a larger, more stable law firm to keep us fed and in business for the foreseeable future. I will be litigating one of the largest corporate litigation cases in the country right now, so the prestige alone is enough to keep me interested. On the home front, the salary is significantly more than I was already making, so the financial pressure of having a new baby and a wife who might not want to work after she arrives is off. For the time-being I'll be rolling up my sleeves and putting on my lawyer hat. Hopefully State will be an option the next time I come up for air.

Practicing law in the face of the inevitable and seemingly interminable wait.

2011-07-08T09:53:00.000-07:00

The official answer came back from BEX. I failed the Spanish language test. My preparation was admittedly inadequate, but I also did several other things wrong. I should not have scheduled the test for the morning when I was nervous and groggy. I'm much more able to think on my feet and form cognizable sentences in the afternoon when I'm awake. Also, I should not have had anything open in front of me. I had a few notes out that distracted me from the conversation. My speaking ability is quite high, but clearly my nerves got the best of me. So it's going to be six months of Spanish reading and Spanish TV until I can take the test again in January, although I am hopeful I won't have to wait that long. In the event that I do, I'm certain to knock it out of the park.

In other news, I'm moving forward with my cases at work and enjoying a bit of legal research work this week. I'm also looking for a bigger, better paying firm to keep my wife and I fed (and our future baby fed) in the event the foreign service decides not to call anybody after September. In the end, I think my family will appreciate the stability that will come with not moving for a while longer. This is also an opportunity to save a bit more money before taking the pay cut that goes along with the foreign service. As an alternative option, I have been considering a position with the public defender here. I know I will get to trial more often as a PD and I think my forensics background would bring something very unique to the table at the PD's office. If an offer materializes I'm not sure I will take it, but it is worth considering at this point. One of the downsides to civil litigation is that getting to the "fun stuff" takes a mountain of drudgery. A stint in criminal law would be a welcome reprieve from that. I am very happy it is Friday and I'm looking forward to golfing this weekend. That's it for now.

Crickets.

2011-07-01T14:08:00.000-07:00

As I contemplate my career options this afternoon, I am keenly aware that civil litigation is not the best career option in the world for me. I have spent the better part of a week dividing my time between two collections cases for contractors, three research projects for one client, an obscure defense strategy in a utility easement case and an ongoing search for a point of law in a case of contract fraud. In short, I'm bored.

While recognizing that the foreign service is a distant possibility, I retook the Foreign Service Officer Test this past month to begin a political candidacy. I found out that I passed the day before yesterday, and did not hesitate in sending my biographical questions in for the QEP the very next day. So now I will wait 6-8 weeks for a response. Maybe more. In the meantime, I've begun hunting for my next attorney position since this firm is not working out. This is a common trend among young attorneys, to be passed around by firms like the fungible assets we are. You see, there is an indisputable oversupply of young law graduates at the moment, which makes job hunting extremely difficult for lawyers with some experience, and almost impossible for fresh graduates with none. As it has always been in the American legal system, the very best and brightest will always have places in firms. However, many of them are working under conditions most normal human beings would find unacceptable, i.e. 100 hour work weeks and impossible standards set by the partnership. The best and the brightest of my class have with few exceptions found themselves washed out of their large firm jobs just shy of three years since passing the bar.

One can still make a good living practicing law if one lucks upon a sustainable position. The problem is that I have not found a sustainable position yet. I'm having lunch with a partner at an IP boutique next Thursday, but I'm genuinely on the fence about whether I am going to continue hunting for civil/business/IP litigation work, or whether I would prefer to get my ass back into the courtroom and do criminal work until the foreign service comes a-calling. In pursuit of the latter, I left a message with the head of the Public Defender's Office here in town this afternoon, so maybe I'll entertain a position there. Either way, it's emotionally taxing to be in flux.

My outlook on life is somewhat enhanced, not just by the thought of coming home early to see my beautiful wife this holiday Friday, but also because my best friend from law school is coming to visit this weekend. He's been out of the country for almost four months now, but came home to visit his family and friends for a month. He's planning on emigrating to that foreign land, so I invited him to stay with my wife and I for a last hurrah. On that note, I'm leaving the office for the weekend. Happy birthday weekend, America.

The calm before the storm.

2011-06-29T19:38:00.000-07:00

Here's a brief guide to (some of) what being an expectant father involves. If you took the stereotypical route like I did, you married a beautiful woman. Your love drove you to abandon your bachelor pad, to plan a wedding, and to forget shooting pool and drinking beer on work nights. Or most any nights, for that matter. In fact, you can't remember the last time you did those things. You had a very nice wedding (in your case, a small one in a foreign country with your closest family and friends). You graduated from school together, got jobs together, moved into a nice place together and planned your future together as a family. Along the way, you figured out how to deal with each other's moodiness, shortcomings, and countless idiosyncrasies and imperfections. When all this happened, you began to feel an enormous sense of satisfaction with your married life. So naturally, you decided to shake things up a bit and have a baby. There's a reason pregnancy is divided into three trimesters. Each is distinct and comes with its own set of challenges. Obviously, your lady love does most of the work. You do not get out of the ordeal without some sacrifice, however.

Trimester 1: Try to imagine what getting up every morning with a massive hangover is like. This is how my wife described her first trimester, whilst lamenting the fact the she wasn't allowed to drink. She was tired all the time, achy, and irritable. Fathers will often try to tell expectant fathers their wives will experience a moderately heightened sense of moodiness during the first trimester. If you were to ask me about this, I would tell you that these fathers don't know the half of it. There were multiple occasions when heated arguments would occur (read: explosive arguments). Ask me what these arguments were about, and I would not be able to tell you. As for the tiredness, let me tell you that if you were ever considering leading a double life, the first trimester is a good time to adopt one. My wife would routinely lose consciousness shortly after, and often before, dinner. All of a sudden, I found myself left to my own devices during the week outside work. I read books. I watched every episode of Scrubs on Netflix. I went to the gym. I was awake alone so much I considered fighting crime at night. Obviously I did not indulge this impulse. I have a family to think about.

Trimester 2: Right after month three, you get her back for a time. She is more energetic. The moodiness is gone. The hangover lifts. Everybody loves one another again. As an added bonus, certain female parts begin to augment a bit. She will be more able and willing to sleep with you. In short, life is grand again. Appetite increases, however. I found myself packing on the calories along with my wife, perhaps unconsciously attempting to match her weight gain. Once we noticed what was happening, I was able to start tagging out of the sympathy eating so that I could maintain a legitimate shot at a follow up pregnancy. This is a challenge many of you are likely to face, too.

Trimester 3: Somewhere around month 5 or 6, my wife "popped." All of a sudden, the miracle of our growing child made itself apparent. It's really amazing how your wife can appear a little pregnant one week and BAM! full of baby the next. Oddly, for me at least, the whole thing made her even more beautiful. I wonder if every expectant father finds his pregnant wife attractive in this state. Along with the popping, however, comes the end of the second trimester. The result is a return to the exhaustion you saw in the first trimester. In fact, I wouldn't be blogging at all right now were it not for my wife's inability to remain conscious. Added things you may notice are more back pain (she may benefit from a nightly back rub), the inability to get comfortable and/or sleep and the return of some moodiness. I have learned to take all this in stride. I also responded to her first strange craving of the pregnancy tonight. It was Crunch 'n Munch that she craved. I brought it to her moments before she lost consciousness.

So that's all I have to share tonight on the baby front.

In other news, my wife and I both sat for the FSOT, the foreign service written test, earlier this month. I did it because, why not? It's free and it behooves me to keep a second candidacy alive. She did it because we both think it would be cool to be a tandem couple, an FSO couple working together in the service. Results came in this afternoon. I passed again, this time under the political cone. Unfortunately, she didn't. She only missed it by less than 4 points, due in large part to the mysterious biography section. Hopefully she'll take it again next year.

Un dia tarde y faltante un dolar.

2011-06-29T08:36:00.000-07:00

Well, there you have it, sports fans. Another round of consular offers is out for another A-100 class, and none of those offers went to me. I still await my Spanish language test results, and I'm still toiling away as a litigation attorney. The sad fact is that had I passed the Spanish test a week ago, I would have my offer in hand and be planning my exit from the law and discussing the logistics of the packout with my wife. Oh, well. There's comfort in knowing we won't have to move with a newborn, and the money is better out here in the private sector. Perhaps it's for the best.

In other news, my wife is coming along great with her pregnancy. We have baby room furniture set up and make frequent trips to baby stores for clothing. Truth be told, we have more than enough stuff to get us by if we had the baby tomorrow, but my wife is in hyper-nesting mode, so every detail is being tended. It's comforting in a way how she and/or her biology cover all the bases, and I only have to put things together and make her wishes happen. If ever a couple could be ready for a baby, I think we're there. It's very exciting. In case I haven't mentioned it before, this is our first child, and we know it's going to be a girl. I come from a family of all boys, so the father-daughter dynamic is going to be new to me. I wonder how it will be between us.

News from the listserve this morning.

2011-06-27T07:37:00.000-07:00

I discovered to my surprise that consular invites for the September class began going out this morning. Now I'm not sure whether my language points (if I got them) are going to arrive in time for me to make the cut. I took the phone test last Wednesday, June 22, and the results take about a week to come back. Man, I hope the timing works out on this...

In other news, my wife and I spent most of the weekend setting up furniture and readying the house for our baby. She's in her third trimester now, so the nesting instinct is in full force. We have a crib, dressers, a changing table, and even a cradle next to our bed. This is getting real. And exciting.

Whatever's cooking on the back burner smells delicious!

2011-06-25T15:37:00.000-07:00

So I discovered the foreign service officer position at State like so many people before me and decided I wanted in. At the time, it was just another job application to go along with the other nets I casted upon the shrinking sea of job openings. The foreign service selection process is a testament to the nature of the work. That is to say, every step is a reminder that one is seeking employment with a government agency. One must resign oneself to a methodical process that doesn't treat anyone particularly specially, that proceeds based upon an objective rubric, and that is painfully slow. It is also worth mentioning that the process is extremely selective. While the careers site at State (http://careers.state.gov/officer/selection-process) is the best place to go for an overview, I will take you through my experiences at each step. I chose the above title for this post because a choice to pursue a career in the foreign service is a highly speculative one. 1-2% of initial applicants eventually become FSO's, so the odds are not in one's favor. The smart money says to put one's candidacy on the back burner and to concentrate upon job opportunities with more immediate and tangible benefits. Joining the foreign service is a romantic notion and it's exciting to think about, but it's got to be a plan B.

That being said, here is how I executed my plan B:

Becoming a Foreign Service Officer

Step 1: Choose a Career Track

There are five different versions, or "cones," of foreign service officer.  State asks candidates to select their cone at the very beginning of the process. The cone serves as a general job description. Ostensibly, the cone one selects dictates the kinds of job one will do upon entering the service, although it is not uncommon for FSO's to take posts that are out of their designated cone. It is also not unheard of for FSO's to switch cones, although it is not a simple task to do so. The five cones are political (intelligence gathering), public diplomacy (public relations), economic (commercial and economic interests), consular (border security and citizen protection abroad) and management (running U.S. facilities abroad, i.e. making embassies and consulates work in foreign lands).

The sexiest cones are generally considered to be the most competitive, political being at the top of the list. Political is followed closely by public diplomacy and economic, with consular and management bringing up the rear. After researching the statistics and the descriptions themselves, I chose the consular cone. I'm not going to lie to you, my selection was partially based upon what I thought I would enjoy, but was to a large degree based upon which cone I thought would give me the best chance for an invite.  State discourages this consideration as part of one's cone selection process because switching cones later on is very difficult. However, there has been a glut of management candidates since the economy took a nose dive, and I am certain this method of hedging bets is the reason.

As for my more noble criteria for selecting consular, I decided that, as a lawyer, I am in an excellent position to protect American citizens abroad. Consular officers in certain capacities must familiarize themselves with local laws so that when Americans get themselves into trouble abroad, as they invariably do, the consular officer will know the proper legal recourse to protect them.  As a result, consular officers have some of the best stories. The drearier side of consular is handling visa applications. Consular officers, especially junior ones, work visa applicant lines at post, interviewing foreign visa applicants daily, one after another, to determine whether granting a visa would be a national security risk.  This work is notoriously unexciting. The flip side of this is that most every newly minted FSO, regardless of cone, is required to do a visa line tour. Therefore, consular officers aren't necessarily any worse off than political ones. I would imagine that such tours are also useful for perfecting language skills.

Another consideration I took into account is that there are no hard and fast rules regarding bidding. In other words, it's pretty easy to take out-of-cone tours. I am not privy to the repercussions of taking too many out-of-cone tours, but I have heard that there can be fallout when it comes to promotions. Nonetheless, the selection of one's cone doesn't necessarily lock one down for the rest of their career. So, even though I would readily accept paying my dues with a few visa tours, I don't worry too much about doing visa interviews for the next 25 years.

Step 2: Register for the Test

In January 2010, when I clicked through the registration link at the State Department website, it took about 45 minutes to complete the online registration for the foreign service officer test (FSOT). State asked me for my educational background, for my work history, for my language ability and for my overseas experience. These considerations don't factor into whether State lets one take the FSOT, but may factor into whether one who passes the FSOT will be invited to D.C. for the oral assessment.

Step 3: Take the Foreign Service Officer Test (FSOT)

The FSOT is offered a couple of times a year. In late January 2010, State emailed me an invite to register for the February FSOT. Due to my legal workload at the time, I didn't bother. I received another email invite for the June 2010 FSOT did register. The testing center I selected was horrible. The center was located in the downtown area of my city where the staff was slow and inefficient in registering the test takers, the computer systems were run-down, and the environment was stressful and distracting. What made my experience there especially disconcerting was that the network crashed 90 minutes into the test. Everybody's data was lost, so we were all invited to come back in a few days to retake the test from the beginning. I took the opportunity to register for the test at a different location, a new community college campus 45 minutes away from the original testing center. I relate this story to you to warn potential candidates to research testing sites if you are given the option. A newer, well-run facility with up-to-date equipment can save you some stress.

The FSOT takes about 3 hours to complete. It consists of a general knowledge section, a biographical section and an English grammar section, all of which are multiple choice. A final section consists of an essay on a specific topic. The general knowledge section exemplifies the well-roundedness for which State is looking. Covered subjects include, but are not limited to, geography, American/world culture(s), legal/legislative history, American history, world history, computer literacy and management theory. Basically, State is looking for FSO's with a broad understanding of a variety of subjects and an understanding of how to work as a team.

When your test results come back 3-6 weeks later, you have the right to make a freedom of information act request for a breakdown of your scores. On June 30, 2010, I received an email informing me that I'd passed the FSOT. I sent in a FOIA request to determine how close it had been.

After you pass the FSOT:

Step 4: Submit Personal Narrative

If one passes the FSOT, the next phase of candidacy consists of completing personal narrative questions and submitting them in an online form. These are 5-6 essay questions about your life experiences. While some might be tempted to embellish answers, State asks for references for verification purposes. The candidate has about three weeks to complete these narrative questions, which are then submitted along with the rest of the candidate application to the Qualifications Evaluation Panel (QEP). The inner workings of this phase of the selection process are a mystery to the candidate community. As recently as last year, this step was seen as a mere formality for those who passed the FSOT. However, recently the QEP seems to serve as State's gatekeeper to reduce the ranks of candidates invited to D.C. for the oral assessment. As nearly as I can tell, the QEP examines the entire candidate file against a rubric that changes depending on the needs of the service. If the candidate is competitive enough and matches what the ranks of the foreign service require at the time, the panel extends an invite. Since the budget shenanigans in Congress began in the winter of 2010/2011, the QEP has gotten more and more difficult to pass.

In July of 2010, I spent the first two weeks of my allotted three working long hours at the firm and weighing which experiences to plug into my answers at night. On July 19, 2010, the day my narratives were due, I finished the final edits and submitted them. I wrote about living and working in Mexico, being in the courtroom, dealing with the cultural adjustment of moving to the south and the fortitude required of a young associate in a law firm. I hoped at the time it was enough for an invite, although back then, I took comfort in the general consensus among candidates that the QEP, mysterious as it was, left the culling of candidates to the oral assessment panels.

After you pass the QEP:

Step 5: Take the Oral Assessment

Any given candidate who's made it past the QEP will likely tell you that the Oral Assessment is, by far, the most stressful and intimidating step in the candidacy process. They will also likely tell you they were lucky to get that far. This is how I felt. In early September, I received an email inviting me to schedule an appointment to come to D.C. for my oral assessment. On September 29, 2010, I scheduled my FSOA for November 15, 2010. This gave me a few months to prepare. I read over the description of the OA process with nervous anticipation. It has three parts. A group exercise, a writing exercise and a structured interview. The candidate only has control over the latter two phases. The group exercise is dependant upon the people in one's group. Candidates here must roll the dice and hope that everybody in the group "gets it" that the point is not to "win" so much as it is to get consensus and to work together.

I happened to be switching law firms at the time, so I pushed back my start date at the new firm to account for a D.C. trip. I made arrangements to stay with a friend in D.C. Then I studied the so-called "13 dimensions" of what a foreign service officer should be, divining autobiographical examples of how I had exemplified each dimension at one time or another. I did not join a study group or practice group exercises, although this may be helpful for some. For me it was mostly about studying the nature of the OA and what the examiners were looking for, going into the OA with that understanding and trying to RELAX about it. I was relieved to get it all over with. I was also relieved to pass!!! I returned from D.C. to my wife as a conquering hero. Now it was time to wait some more.

After you pass the Oral Assessment:

Step 6: Clearances: Medical and Security

The joy of passing the oral assessment quickly fades when the candidate is faced with the spectre of the dual-headed beast that is completing clearances and obsessing about register rankings. I'll explain both, although the latter is of greater import after the former is complete.

For those of us who couldn't get the online version of the background security clearance form, Standard Form 86 ("SF-86") to function properly, we were fingerprinted in Washington and asked to complete the form within 30 days. It is, for those of us with 10 years of education and work history behind us; multiple moves, and time spent abroad, like writing a masters thesis. It took me several evenings to complete. SF-86 gets sent off to diplomatic security so they can investigate your background in every city you've lived in, at every institution you've attended and with every foreign contact you've had. It takes time. As an associate with a new firm, the security check had the added level of stress having to decide whether to tell my new boss he may be contacted, and how I would break that to him. Part of the security clearance process will involve an investigator interview. It will also involve an investigator talking to most, if not all, of the people you list on your SF-86. I bit the bullet and disclosed to my boss that I was participating in this process. I think he understood the volitility of the job market and, even though it may have hurt my long-term prospects with the firm, I believe that honesty was the best policy. Ironically, the investigator never contacted my firm, accepting my offer letter and three months of pay stubs instead, so it was all a moot point, but in a way it was a relief that my secret was out.

Meanwhile, the medical side of you (and your family) must be assessed through various state-mandated diagnostic tests, all of which must be completed within a certain amount of time. My wife and I underwent multiple doctors visits (your local doctor will likely miss a few tests which State will insist upon), not to mention getting pregnant during the medical clearance process (which is awesome, by the way -- more about this development later).

As far as register ranking goes, the more astute candidates know where they are going to shake out on the register immediately after passing the oral assessment because the examiners tell the passing candidate their oral assessment score. Thereafter, when and if a candidate successfully gets their security and medical clearances, and after they make it through final suitability review, their OA score will be used to rank them against other folks on the register. There are five registers -- one for each cone. Folks with the highest OA scores are placed highest on the register and folks with the same score are ranked according to when they were added, with the folks having the most register "seniority" ranked highest among candidates with the same score. There is a very helpful Yahoo group comprised of OA passers that maintains a "shadow register" wherein candidates reveal their OA score, ranking and, if they are lucky, when they get the call. In consular, at the time I took the OA, my OA score of 5.5 pretty much guaranteed candidates would get the invite once they made it onto the register. However, when classes began getting cut or reduced in early 2011, and I still hadn't hit the register, I began getting nervous.

The most nerve-wracking thing about the post-OA waiting period is that there is very little the candidate can do but wait. When the call will come and how the logistics will work out can drive one batty unless they adopt the healthy attitude that even after the OA, the process is speculative. On most days, I do a pretty good job of suppressing my excitement, anticipation and anxiety over when, and if, I will get the call.

Step 7: Final Review Panel

No one will tell you when your file is complete passed on to the final suitability panel. My wife and I both got emails from the medical folks letting us know we were worldwide available medically in March 2011 (yes, it took that long, despite the fact that we're both perfectly healthy). Security clearance is completed and passed on in secret, however. In fact, I assumed my background investigation was ongoing until March 6, 2011, I got a letter in the mail. In the letter, State congratulated me for being placed on the register in early March and informed me I could reside there for a mere 18 months.

Step 8: The Register

So now that the waiting is over, your efforts are rewarded for being a stellar candidate who tested so well, is of sound mind and body; and in whom the country can trust with its secrets by placing you on your conical register, ranked against all of the other stellar candidates. And you get to wait some more. This is where I currently reside.

Other Considerations:

Veterans Preference

If you've been in the military, you also get a bonus. I'm not terribly familiar with exactly how this works, but the bump to your OA score can be as much as 0.175.

Foreign Languages

The one exception is that the candidate may, if they have not already done so, study for and attempt to pass a telephonic language proficiency test. These can be helpful as State will award a 0.17 point bonus for most languages. So-called "critical needs" and "super critical needs" languages give the candidate a 0.4 or 0.5 point bonus, but to accept these points the candidate must agree to do at least one of their first two tours in a country that speaks these languages.

I was lucky enough to have a background in Spanish. It was my undergraduate minor, and I spent some time in Mexico. However, the test is extremely difficult for Western languages, because so many people speak them. State requires a level 3 proficiency on the ILR scale (feel free to google this). The rub is that failing a language test means one cannot take it again for six months. As a means of angling for the September 2011 class, I took the Spanish phone test this past Wednesday morning. I was extremely nervous, so I'm not sure how I did. I will find out this next week.

Candidates with Disabilities

State will accommodate candidates with minor disabilities to the extent it can, but if there is any major threat to one's ability to work anywhere in the world, including places with limited medical facilities, a disability may prove fatal to one's candidacy. State is reasonably accommodating when it can be, however. For instance, there was a case litigated a few years ago wherein State was forced to admit an HIV positive FSO into its ranks. The rule of thumb appears to be that if a condition is reasonably treatable abroad, accommodations will be made. Folks requiring chronic or in any way cumbersome treatment are likely to be deemed medically unsuitable.

Commitment to Foreign Service Work

I'm not sure why State puts this on their process page. The job description as well as every disclaimer and every questionnaire for every step of the process underscores the Foreign Service's requirement for worldwide availability. Still, an unwillingness to be flexible or to undergo a challenging post or two over the years should give a potential candidate pause. The idea of becoming an FSO may be exciting and romantic, but it's still going to be work.

My wife and I have had some pretty intense discussions about what it'll mean for us to be a foreign service family. If she had any reservations about the idea, I would have nixed it immediately. I would recommend to anyone considering a candidacy to discuss it fully with their family. A career in the foreign service is a group effort as well as a group lifestyle commitment. If they adopt your excitement and commit to the lifestyle with you, i.e. if they can be as invested in it as you can, you're good to go. It is also good general relationship advice to respect the wishes of your loved ones. Raising a happy family is much more important than seeing the world, in my humble opinion. If my wife and I find this isn't for us, we have an agreement to seek greener pastures elsewhere.

So that's it in a nutshell. I sit on the register with my 5.5 and I'm hoping for language points and a shot at the September 2011 class. In the meantime, we're setting up the baby room and focusing our attention on my practice and my wife's teaching job at a local private school. If we happen to get the call, great, but in the meantime our attention belongs with the tangibles in our lives. With a daughter on the way this fall, that's pretty easy to do.

A dramatized version of my discovery of the foreign service.

2011-06-24T10:18:00.000-07:00

So there I was in my office at the top of one of the tallest buildings in the southern state where I practice law, scouring the internet for other law firm jobs, prosecutor jobs, biotechnology jobs, etc., when I wandered over to USAjobs to peruse government attorney offerings. One of the government attorney openings was at the State Department, so naturally I surfed over to the State Department website to determine what exactly a legal advisor for State does. I got my answer but saw something there that was far more interesting: a job description for "Foreign Service Officer."

The State Department website describes the foreign service officer position as follows:

The mission of a U.S. diplomat in the Foreign Service is to promote peace, support prosperity, and protect American citizens while advancing the interests of the U.S. abroad.

If you’re passionate about public service and want to represent the U.S. around the world, a challenging and rewarding career is waiting for you. The opportunity to work and experience cultures, customs and people of different nations is truly a career unlike any other.

The work you’ll do will have an impact on the world. You will be asked to serve at one of any of the more than 265 embassies, consulates and other diplomatic missions in The Americas, Africa, Europe and Eurasia, East Asia and Pacific, Middle East and North Africa, and South Asia. Some of these posts are in difficult and even dangerous environments, but working in them affords great challenges and rewards.

http://careers.state.gov/officer (June 24, 2011).

It seemed to me to be a constructive vocation. It seemed to me to be an exciting job. It seemed to me to be a great way to see the world AND have a wonderful family. Mostly, however, it seemed like a job that would take me out of the drudgery of civil litigation and into a world of cultural diversity, excitement and public service. Plus, as an FSO, I could actually promote economic growth instead of fighting over the spoils of it! I fell fast and hard in love with the idea of becoming a foreign service officer. So I sent the State Department my resume and into the foreign service I went. Sounds simple enough, right? Unfortunately, the process isn't quite that simple...

Another Foreign Service Blog Is Born.

2011-06-23T16:24:00.000-07:00

After spending the past six months reading foreign service blogs (blogs of hopefuls, blogs of current officers, blogs of family members, etc.), I decided to contribute to the massive corpus of online foreign service enthusiants my own experiences with the foreign service. If some of you read these entries and get something out of them, that will make me very happy.  However, my main goal is to keep a record of my experiences as I attempt this life-changing transition. Perhaps my children will read them someday and learn something about their daddy.

Let me begin by introducing myself. I'm in my mid-30s, married, and working in my third or fourth career, depending on how you define the term. I have been a scientist, a reporter, a testifying expert and, most recently, a lawyer. I married the perfect woman a few years ago, and we are expecting our first child in the fall, a girl. I sprang from the mountains of the rural northeast with a desire to live somewhere more exciting than my small town. I attended Penn State as a premedicine major and spent eight years chasing the dream of becoming a physician. This lead me to professions for which I am arguably better suited, the aforementioned three or four careers, which I now describe as follows:

Career #1
If your undergraduate major has the prefix "pre" in it, and you are not going on to the thing following that "pre," you are bound to run into some job interviewers asking you why this is the case. I was a premedicine graduate, but my GPA precluded me from immediately pursuing the "medicine" portion of my major. So to keep my "pre" status alive, I returned to my rural home state and took a research job at a medical school clinical biochemistry laboratory.  Over the next two years I learned the ins and outs of laboratory research, took classes and prepared for the MCAT, which I proceeded to pass with mediocre results. After two years in biochemistry, I noticed DNA was a research area that was really heating up. I also wanted to move to a larger city. So I applied for, and subsequently took, a reasearch job in New York City. I had always dreamed of living in a major city outside of my home state, and New York seemed to be the perfect place for rounding out my research resume and applying to medical schools. The thing is, laboratory research assistants don't do that well financially, even if they do earn more than post-doctoral fellows. So it didn't take long for me to realize that New York City wasn't going to work out for me until I found a way to make more money. So after about a year of doing DNA research I began looking for a biotech job that would cover the rent on my apartment.

Career #2
During my undergraduate days, I enjoyed writing for the school paper. The kids in the newsroom weren't the dorky competitive types I dealt with in the science department, and the work forced me to visit other parts of our massive campus. This experience also landed me a part-time towns reporter job with the local paper in my home state. Freelance reporting became Career #2, although Career #2 happened almost exclusively during my time in my home state and only on nights and weekends around Career #1. Some of that work followed me to New York City. Although Career #4 has essentially snuffed out the possibility of any side career (see below), I fondly remember running all over my rural home state getting the scoop on local politics, tree farms and barn restorations.

Career #3
My New York City hunt for more lucrative biotech employment led me to the city's forensic biology laboratory, conveniently located next door to my research job. The laboratory director was also a Penn State grad. He hired me on the spot after a glance at my resume and a tour of the facility. Here I learned the ins and outs of body fluid identification, DNA extraction, DNA profiling and expert testimony. I was also given the opportunity to earn a masters degree at night, of which I took full advantage. It was so wonderful and exciting, I delayed my pending medical school applications to stay on for additional training. This was my first experience with crime fighting, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It is also where my complicated relationship with the law began.

I remember the child abuse case that led me to attend law school. When the case evidence first arrived in the lab, the analyst doing the testing failed to test for saliva because he or she failed to read the police report properly. At the district attorney's urging, the case was re-assigned to me. I retested the evidence for amylase and found enough saliva for a DNA test. A second forensic report written by me showed a partial match with the suspect. The problem with that second report was that it arguably contradicted the first report for which no saliva tests were done. This is a long-story way of saying the case was a defense attorney's dream. I spent four hours on the stand exploring every facet of the laboratory's oversight and underscoring the reliability of my results in the second report.  The defense attorney, a former neuroscience undergraduate, was skilled in his cross-examination, but our laboratory procedures were sound. I held up well under cross, and the defendant was convicted.

Weeks later, the prosecuting attorney invited me out to lunch and told me that if I were to attend law school with my science background, I would do great. Although I didn't jump at the idea at the time, the seed had been planted.

Career #4
After taking a post-9/11 recuperation job in a major city in the South, I applied to law school with an eye towards intellectual property litigation. For the most part, I was a successful law student. To the extent I have been employed as a lawyer since graduation, one could also say I am a successful lawyer. During law school, I was involved in many law school extracurriculars, got a job offer out of on campus interviews and become a patent litigator (think Microsoft v. AT&T). But there's a problem. The hours are gruelling, the contentiousness of opposing counsel is annoying, and the work required to get into the courtroom, let alone win, is immense. Several years in, thanks to a supportive wife, I've decided that lawyering, at least as a primary source of income, is not for me. When the bottom fell out of the economy in 2008, the legal profession was hit especially hard. I used that downturn as a sufficient excuse to begin looking around for what I might do next. During an online career search one afternoon in January 2010, I discovered the U.S. Foreign Service. And so began my pursuit of Career #5...