Google, Interns and The Speech

 

When I joined Google about a decade and a half ago, it felt more like a playground for grownups (or almost-grownups) than a workplace. Everything was bright and shiny and amazing, and everyone was super helpful and friendly. It's no secret that much has changed since then, but one aspect of the Noogler¹ experience remains constant.

As they start learning about the tools, technologies, and projects they’ll be working with, most Nooglers are excited and wowed by both the quality and quantity of tools, toys, and food that are available to them. Then, around two to six weeks later, when they least expect it, the panic and self-doubt hit. Hard. What am I doing here? I don’t know anything, and there’s too much to learn! Everyone else is way smarter than I am! They must’ve made a mistake when they hired me! I’m never going to survive!

During my last several years there, I loved to have virtual 🙶coffee chats🙷 with Nooglers and interns from all over the world. I learned about roles I didn't even know existed. Their fresh perspectives reminded me to appreciate things I might have been taking for granted. And I made sure to let them know what to expect during onboarding.

If I met someone early enough into their tenure, while they were still whelmed but not yet overwhelmed, they might laugh and think I'm joking. But sometimes I'd catch them right after it'd taken hold and started to metastasize. That was the case when my teammate asked me to 🙶guest mentor🙷 an intern while she was away.

The intern met me in the cafeteria during her second week. 🙶Are you Adam?🙷 🙶Yep! I've been looking forward to meeting you. How are you?🙷 The truth was obvious, etched into her face, despite her tentative answer: 🙶I'm doing okay.🙷 She nodded as if to convince herself.

I smiled. 🙶You are lying through your teeth.🙷

She went from nervous to panic. 🙶Huh?🙷

🙶You are terrified! You have no idea what your project is about, you don't understand half the words in the documentation, you don't know how any of the tools work or even how to find out which ones to use, and you can't ask your team for help because you're afraid they'll think you're an idiot.🙷

Her face went limp, her jaw dropped, and she just stared, agape, at me for a moment. And then, 🙶How.... How did you know?🙷

The Speech

My smile grew wider. 🙶Because it's not you; it's us. This happens to everyone after a few weeks. But it's faster—and worse—for interns, because you have to cram everything from ‘Where's the bathroom?’ to ‘Ship it!’ into 12 weeks.🙷

She relaxed just a bit, but I don't think she was buying it. So I went on: 🙶I know your team well. I was on that team for years, and we're like family.² Every one of us went through this. And it's okay to ask them about it; they'll be happy to tell you!🙷

She was still understandably dubious. But that team was special, even for Google. More than any other I've worked with, they were the embodiment of Googliness.³ 🙶They want you here. They want you to ask questions, even the embarrassing ones. They'll give you as much independence as you can stand, and as much support as you need. And I promise you: they will not let you fail.🙷

Finally, I explained what always comes next. 🙶You'll probably feel overwhelmed for another couple of days, but then things will start to make more sense. You'll start to understand your project, how it fits into the bigger picture, and what you need to do. You'll figure out the tools and get more comfortable finding the information you need. In a week or two you'll have a deep sense of ownership, you'll feel like you're on a mission, and you'll be a full-fledged member of your team. By the end of your internship you'll present your project with confidence that seems impossible today. You'll laugh when you think back to how you feel now. Oh, and I know you don't believe a word of this, and that's fine. No one does.🙷

We chatted more about her project, her team, and the labyrinths that are Google (figuratively) and the 16-story building we were in (literally), which was eternally under construction as we expanded our occupancy like the Borg.

We may have met once or twice more before my teammate returned; I don't remember. In any case, we didn't really talk again until the poster session that traditionally wraps up intern season. It gives each cohort of interns the opportunity to present their projects and give us full-time engineers a healthy dose of Impostor Syndrome.

Seriously: These kids come in before their third or fourth year of college, most of them barely able to write code. Twelve weeks later they've written design documents, performed code reviews, run meetings, collaborated effectively with a team, owned a significant piece of a world-class system, and held their own with professional engineers. They've learned a ton—many come back and tell us we taught them more than they learned in 4 years of college—and most of them have fun doing it. They're crazy-smart, not to mention incredibly brave.
I wouldn't've missed it for the world.

I looked around the room and found her among the dozen or so groups that were presenting that day. She smiled as I walked over and asked her, 🙶So, how'd it go?🙷

🙶Ohmygosh, you were totally right! I didn't believe anything you said! But it turned out exactly like you said it would. That was the best advice anyone ever gave me!🙷

Her Legacy

I've been giving that speech and retelling that story ever since. Dozens of folks have given similar feedback: They didn't believe it until it happened to them, but just being told what to expect made it easier for them.

Today, our former intern has had a career of her own for several years. I sent her a note,⁴ telling her how much I learned from our first meeting and thanking her on behalf of all the people she's helped unknowingly. Of course, she had no idea. Being able to share their gratitude made my day.

__________

1. A Noogler is someone who's recently joined the company: a new Googler.
   
   We also have Xooglers (former Googlers), Dooglers (Googlers with dogs), Greyglers (Googlers of 🙶a certain age🙷),  Jewglers, Brewglers, and a few gazillion more.
   
   
2. Today, nearly a decade after I was voluntold to switch to another team that needed a tech lead, several of us still get together for weekly virtual lunches.
   
   
3. Back then, Googliness meant everything Larry and Sergey wrote in their original IPO letter, particularly the section about Googlers. It extended far beyond 🙶Don't be evil🙷 (as opposed to what I feel is the current strategy). You could take for granted that any of your colleagues would be helpful, compassionate, honest, dependable, and supportive, whether you knew them personally or not. It took me two years to get over the culture shock after a career with 🙶normal" companies.
   
   
4. I'm still in touch with many former interns. Once you've worked so intensely with them, just as they're about to start their career, they become family. That, and I hope they'll think fondly of me when I end up working for them.