The Real Reason Young Professionals Don't Command Respect

Understanding the difference between advancing your career versus maintaining a job is essential for professional sustainability in any organization. I grew up in an era where the proverbial speech was "go to school, get good grades, and you'll be rewarded with a good job." Now trust me, as a working mother the speech remains the same -- but, with a little twist. In today's age, the speech sounds more like, "go to school, get good grades, and strive for career security." Of course, when I landed my first real job, I was excited. I gained a sense of independence, responsibility, and financial stability. However, different than in our parent's day in age, in today's society, maintaining a job is just not enough. Studies show people shift jobs more frequently than in the past because the concept of "job security" has diminished. The idea of "going to work, completing all assigned tasks, never calling in sick and you'll be rewarded" is a thing of the past. Today, it is important to strive for career security which ultimately will yield professional sustainability. I recently tuned into the 12 Unbreakable Laws to Professional Success by Deidre Dutcher which nudged me to re-evaluate my own career and professional sustainability. Now, for those of us who are at different stages in the career ladder, there is nothing wrong with re-evaluating where we are in order to keep climbing. So I "leaned back" and realized it is important to not be seen as "just an employee," but viewed as a contributing asset to the organization. As a result, I began to goal-set and think of ways to stand out as a contributing asset in order to increase career security. I realized the two areas I could professionally enhance to increase career security were to become a problem solver and create greatness to get recognized. To be a problem solver continuous learning is required. You never know when you may be called upon to solve or tackle a new project. Therefore, it is essential to continuously enhance your current skill-set as well as acquire new talents that will support your organization. Keep in mind you are not only adding value to the organization with acquiring new skills, you are also increasing your own professional tool kit. Creating greatness to get recognized is another realization I embraced to enhance career security. As professional women, we all want to be viewed in the workplace for the "great" things we contribute. Remember, most importantly is presenting a "great attitude" in the workplace. Maintaining a great attitude toward your work and colleagues, contributes to your overall greatness resulting in recognition of your competence and efforts. So, I say all this to say, as professional women we have to set goals, assess where we want to be professionally, and strive for career security. It is important to be viewed as an asset to any organization and be known for adding value as opposed to "being just an employee." Striving for career security starts from within; therefore we have to take control of our careers to climb the leadership ladder.

Louisiana Gov. Bobby Jindal (R) is pushing for punishment for Internal Revenue Service officials that targeted conservative groups in the lead-up to the 2012 election. Politico and CNN report that in Jindal's prepared remarks for a Saturday speech to Virginia Republicans, he says IRS officials involved in the targeting should "go to jail." “It is the IRS, people in a position of public trust, who have violated the Constitution of the United States of America. You cannot take the freedom of law-abiding Americans, whether you disagree with them or not, and keep your own freedom. When you do that, you go to jail,” Jindal’s remarks say according to CNN. Jindal's not the only Republican expressing anger over the IRS scandal, which President Barack Obama called "outrageous." Former Republican presidential hopeful Mitt Romney said "a special counsel should be appointed" to investigate the incident, putting some of the blame on Obama. "The IRS reports to the Treasury Department, that reports to the president. The buck stops at the president's desk," Romney said. Other Republicans are hoping anger over the scandal will hurt Obama's health care law, according to the AP.

* 8,000 households paid more in tax than they earned * Data show impact of Socialists' one-off levy PARIS, May 18 (Reuters) - More than 8,000 French households' tax bills topped 100 percent of their income last year, the business newspaper Les Echos reported on Saturday, citing Finance Ministry data. The newspaper said that the exceptionally high level of taxation was due to a one-off levy last year on 2011 incomes for households with assets of more than 1.3 million euros ($1.67 million). President Francois Hollande's Socialist government imposed the tax surcharge last year, shortly after taking office, to offset the impact of a rebate scheme created by its conservative predecessor to cap an individual's overall taxation at 50 percent of income. The government has been forced to redraft a proposed bill to levy a temporary 75 percent tax on earnings over 1 million euros, which had been one of Hollande's campaign pledges. The Constitutional Council has judged such a high rate of taxation to be unfair, leaving the government to rehash it to hit companies rather than individuals. Since then, a top administrative court has determined that a marginal tax rate higher than 66.66 percent on a single household risked being considered as confiscatory by the council. Les Echos reported that nearly 12,000 households paid taxes last year worth more than 75 percent of their 2011 revenues due to the exceptional levy. ($1 = 0.7798 euros) (Reporting by Leigh Thomas, Editing by Mark Trevelyan)

When Mary Lambert was 6 years old, she taught herself to play piano and performed in front of an audience of rapt Beanie Babies. Often home by herself, Lambert told The Huffington Post she would practice bowing to her plush -- or imaginary -- audiences, and sit for phantom interview with talk show host Jay Leno. "I grew up in a really traumatic, abusive household," Lambert said during a video chat, adding that performing in front of a (fake) crowd served as a form of escape. About 17 years later, what started as a child's way of transcending her surroundings has become a full-blown career that has taken the 24-year-old across the country and even onto the set of Ellen DeGeneres. The Seattle-based singer, songwriter and poet rocketed onto the national stage with the 2012 release of Macklemore and Ryan Lewis' moving single "Same Love," an instant anthem for gay rights and same-sex marriage advocates around the world. The song went double platinum in Australia and rose to No. 89 on the Billboard Hot 100 Chart, the Seattle Post-Intelligencer notes. The lyrics are straightforward, yet powerful, and the chorus beautifully embodies the soul of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) movement: And I can't change Even if I tried Even if I wanted to I can't change Even if I try Even if I wanted to My love Lambert wrote the chorus' hook in two hours. At points tender, plaintive and unapologetic, the "Same Love" chorus draws on Lambert's experiences as a queer woman growing up in a tumultuous, Christian upbringing. The repeating line, "Not crying on Sundays," for example, echoes the way she felt after leaving Sunday services at the conservative Mars Hill Church in Seattle. For years, Lambert apologized to God for her same-sex attractions, she told the Seattle Times. “I fought it for a long time,” she told the outlet. “Then I fell in love with another girl and then I decided I would repent every day, because I knew I wasn’t going to change. But that was absurd.” Tellingly, although "Same Love" is sung by a straight man (Macklemore, real name Ben Haggerty), Lambert's chorus references "her love." "When I came out, I said, 'I'm going to be a proud gay artist," Lambert told HuffPost, adding that she doesn't mean she's only going to make "gay music." "I'm not going to be Melissa Etheridge," Lambert said, laughing. "But she's a goddess!" A beautiful woman with long, reddish-brown hair and dimples, Lambert said her looks still confuse people. "It's an interesting thing about being a 'fem,'" she told HuffPost. "People automatically assume that I'm straight." "Same Love," isn't about a best friend, she notes -- she wrote it about her longtime girlfriend, Rachel. Being a queer singer/songwriter can still be difficult, especially for someone at the beginning of her career. Iconic, openly gay entertainers are still few and far between, and so many of the anthems associated with the LGBT movement have been sung by straight artists, such as Macklemore or Pink. "There is a fear [you will] alienate your audience," she said. "I've struggled with this too. Do I want to say 'she?' What pronouns do I use when I want it to be about universal love? But at the same time you don't want to hide." A talented writer and slam poet (she actually won Seattle Grand Slam poetry competition in 2011), Lambert's intimate style incorporates both vocal, instrumental and spoken word elements. Her first EP, "Letters Don't Talk," showcases this experimental side with her single “I Know Girls (bodylove)” standing out as the best example of this hybrid artistic approach. At times, Lambert's lyrics are so sharp, they hurt. With themes including self-mutilation, abuse and body image, the song “I Know Girls (bodylove)” has an aching poignancy that sticks with you long after the guitar chords have faded. "I wrote 'Body Love' when I was 20," Lambert said. "It was in a time in my life when I was really reckless and destructive -- all those things were what I was thinking." Four years later, Lambert said the piece is still a mantra she returns to, and it acts as a catharsis. People continue to come up to her after performances crying, she said. In an interview with Autostraddle, Lambert said she writes "songs to cry to." (Lambert, herself, cries a great deal, she said.) Her shows are designed as safe spaces where crying is acceptable and even encouraged. Lambert said that when her mother comes to shows, she's always the loudest crier in the room. "I think I've always operated with the idea that vulnerability is what connect us to humanity, and to other people in our communities," Lambert said. "When I do shows, I'm talking about my abuse and being bipolar, I'm talking about rape There's definitely a lot of darkness in my writing, and sadness and grief. But i think those are all important forms of expression." Women might be starting to feel able to talk about these types of topics, but Lambert said there's still a stigma associated with being "emotionally vulnerable." After taking some time off, Lambert is touring sparingly this spring -- she heads to New York City's SubCulture lounge May 21 -- and she's re-releasing her EP in Europe and meeting with labels to discuss the possible production of a full-length album. She also has a book out -- a poetry collection called "500 Tips For Fat Girls." Lambert said that she wants to continue pushing forward with her songwriting. She gets emails throughout the week from women who say her music has helped them seek counseling for eating disorders or has helped them find the courage to come out of the closet. "To be able to make art that affects them that way, and gives them power and strength and courage," she said, then hesitated, smiling. "It feels bold and egotistical to say that, but there are albums that I have listened to that do that, and maybe it's not absurd to think that I could do that, too." Mary Lambert heads to New York City on Tuesday, May 21 for a 7:30 p.m. show at SubCulture on Bleecker Street. You can check out some of Lambert's music and read excerpts from her poetry at www.marylambertsings.com.

CAMP LEJEUNE, N.C. -- Ron Poirier couldn't escape the feeling that his cancer was somehow a punishment. As a young Marine electronics technician at Camp Lejeune in the mid-1970s, the Massachusetts man figured he'd dumped hundreds of gallons of toxic solvents onto the ground. It would be decades before he realized that he had unknowingly contributed to the worst drinking water contamination in the country's history – and, perhaps, to his own premature death. "It's just a terrible thing," the 58-year-old veteran told The Associated Press shortly before succumbing to esophageal cancer at a Cape Cod nursing facility on May 3. "Once I found out, it's like, `God! I added to the contamination.'" The cancer that killed Poirier is one of more than a dozen diseases and conditions with recognized links to a toxic soup brewing beneath the sprawling coastal base between the 1950s and mid-1980s, when officials finally ordered tainted drinking-water wells closed. As many as a million Marines, family members and civilian employees are believed to have been exposed to several cancer-causing chemicals. In the final weeks of his life, it was not just cancer that was gnawing at Poirier. The Brewster, Mass., man was with the 8th Communications Battalion at Lejeune from 1974 to 1976, working in a shop installing and repairing top-secret radio components. The shop was located just south of the Hadnot Point Industrial Area, right in the middle of a cluster of drinking water wells serving one of the base's main residential sections. There was plenty of suspicion about the possible health effects of handling and ingesting trichloroethylene, or TCE. But the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency had not yet established regulations for limiting exposure levels. In a mid-March telephone interview from his home, Poirier said one of his jobs was to recondition circuit boards and other components. Working in a space with little or no ventilation, he used his bare hands to bathe the components in a pan of the TCE-laced cleaner or spray them down with an aerosolized version. "It was also a great degreaser," he said in halting tones, stopping often to catch his breath. "And it would leave the circuit boards absolutely clean." And it was cheap. According to the manufacturer, the chemicals were to be used only once. Poirier chuckled when he recalled orders not to dump the stuff down the toilet, "because it would kill the bacteria" in the base's septic system. The only warning he could remember was not to dispose of the product beside buildings. So when he and his colleagues had filled a drum with used cleaner, they carried it across the parking lot and dumped it in the woods. "Over the two years, how much did I dispose of?" he asked. "Christ. We used to go through 55 gallons in less than a month. So, you know, if I had to say a rough guess would be 100 gallons a month. It was probably more. That's a conservative figure." A civilian worker from Lejeune told a federal fact-finding group that there was "no guideline, policy, or program in place for base personnel handling or disposing of any chemical until the mid-1980s.Until that time, said the worker, whose name was redacted from the group's report, PCB-laden transformer oil was spread onto roads "to keep the dust down," and everything else "was either dumped on the ground or they just dug a hole and poured the chemicals into the ground." At one point, Poirier recalled, the EPA issued some guidance on TCE. "And I remember the old-timers there saying, `That's a bunch of bull. We've been doing it this way for years,'" he said. "I was 18 years old. You did what you were told. You didn't ask questions." Victims of the contamination note that there was a 1974 order governing the disposal of organic solvents and cleaning chemicals on the base. Poirier left the Marines in 1976 as a sergeant, then spent six years with the Army. Over the years, Poirier was surprised at the number of former Marine comrades who had died of cancer. With all the chemicals he'd handled during his lifetime, he said, "I thought maybe I was the lucky one." Then his luck ran out. By the time doctors discovered the tumor in his throat, the cancer had already spread to other parts of his body. Poirier's only option was chemotherapy. At first, Poirier's doctors at the Department of Veterans Affairs Hospital were baffled by his illness. He never smoked or drank to excess, and had quit both years earlier. Then he learned about the Lejeune investigation, "and things started to make sense there." Esophageal cancer is one of 15 diseases or conditions listed under the Camp Lejeune Veterans and Family Act, which covers Marines and family members who were at the base between 1957 and 1987. Poirier's disability claim "breezed right through," and he had nothing but praise for the care he received through the VA. Following a recent NBC News report on Lejeune men diagnosed with breast cancer, Poirier poured his heart out on an online message board. "It is very difficult living with the tought that i took part in this ground polution and facing death from this cancer," he wrote, his fingers stumbling over the keys. "I joined the USMC to serve and protect, not to harm." Mike Partain, one of the men who appeared in the NBC piece, tried to reassure Poirier that he bore no blame. "How can you be responsible in ignorance?" replied Partain, a Marine's son who was born at Lejeune's Naval Hospital. "You were poisoned just as much as I and everyone else at the base was." Poirier understood that – on one level. "I'm a religious person," he told the AP, apologizing repeatedly for his slurred speech. "I believe in the universe. I don't think it's a direct thing. But I have guilt, let's put it that way. I have guilt." A couple of years ago, the lifelong fisherman founded RonZ Engineered Soft Baits. He had recently switched from lead weights to tin, "a green metal," and scrupulously avoided using plastics made with phthalates, a softening agent linked to cancer and reproductive issues. Earlier this year, Poirier began having trouble walking. In mid-March, he learned the cancer had spread to his brain. Within a week of speaking with the AP, Poirier had moved into hospice. He was later transferred to a skilled nursing facility, where he spent his final three weeks. While he knew he couldn't alter the past, Poirier had hopes that he could change the future. "When judgment day comes, you know," he said, "I hope those people that suffered realize that I didn't know what I was doing." ___ Associated Press writer Martha Waggoner in Raleigh, N.C., contributed to this story. Breed is a national writer, based in Raleigh, N.C. He can be reached at features(at)ap.org. Follow him on Twitter at http://twitter.com/(hash)!/AllenGBreed