A friend of Devin’s — a brilliant science teacher about to be laid off — had been sending out resumes for months without a single callback. She couldn’t understand it. He made science interesting, and he’d made it interesting to her, someone with zero background in it.
So she took his resume, rolled it into a scroll, sealed it inside a test tube, wrapped the whole thing with ribbon, and had him hand-deliver it to his top seven schools.
Six of the seven met with him almost on the spot. He had a job at one of his top choices within weeks.
She’d never called herself this before, but it’s what she’d always done — for herself, and for the people she cared about. Not luckier. Just harder to overlook.