Recently, I’ve been approached by two different recruiters looking to hire me for my Mandarin skills. (My brother will ask “what skills?”) But nevertheless, Mandarin is listed on my LinkedIn profile as one of my languages, alongside C#, Java, and the rest of my professional experience.
The first time, I laughed and sent a screenshot to my Chinese speaking family and joked that I would struggle to be understood. But my mom, who put me through 10+ years of Chinese school over the weekends and helped me struggle through my weekly homework packet responded with “You can learn faster than most people. At least, you now understand about 60% which is not bad at all. If you want the job, go ahead, apply it. you can recover the language pretty fast. Mommy has faith in you.”
(Hold-up, lemme pause there as an Asian American and just say – Wut.)
Which was a nice confidence boost, when your parental unit, who is always asking you to strive for more and better, stops and reminds you what all of that experience has earned you. And that’s what I want to talk about today. What does that Mandarin language proficiency on my profile really represent?
It’s experience.
I first saw this quote on Instagram and recently found myself thinking I needed to dig it up. Turns out, the original tweet was written back in 2019 by @davygreenberg. (Thank you SUZANNE LUCAS @REALEVILHRLADY for writing an article on it so that I could find it easily!)
After some digging into the job openings available at this Mandarin seeking company told me that they did not have an equivalent of my role open, I moved on. But two weeks later, a different recruiter reached out citing not only my Mandarin skills, but also my actual work experience as a Program Manager. My heart started racing a bit as I read through the other conditions.
My brain said: I don’t want this job! It’s in Las Vegas, and they want me to move! I’m buying a house in Phoenix right now! I’m not even looking for a new job right now, I’m mid-project at my current place of employment, and I want to see it through.
But something snagged on my brain. Something about this being the second role to ask for Mandarin had me responding to the recruiter with my concern around relocation and a request for the compensation range. (No fun scheduling a call and talking through a role only to discover your expectations don’t match.)
He politely addressed my concerns and provided the range. And I’ll admit, they were offering nominally more than I’m making right now. But several thoughts went through my head about value and negotiating power that coalesed into “if you’re going to ask me to use my Mandarin for work, it comes as a premium.” And that meant that to me, the top of the cited range was 10k too low for me to entertain a conversation.
As all recruiters should, he tried one more time, but we ended the conversation with “not right now”. I consider that closed, but my brain is still noodling on the concept of my worth.
The Data
I open Salary.com and start typing in Program Manager, looking at charts and comparing experience. Switching it back and forth on locations between Phoenix and Las Vegas, and trying to determine if I’d priced myself out of the market.
(Because who doesn’t immediately go through imposter syndrome after turning down what looks like a decent opportunity?)
At first, I saw this graph and thought “maybe I did ask for too much, oh no.”
After sitting in that feeling for a bit, however, I realized that 1) I’m not average and 2) none of this data is based on requiring Mandarin.
This brings us back to Suzanne Lucas’ article about deciding your own price.
The Price of Mandarin
Mandarin is not a language you pick up over a weekend with Rosetta Stone. (And God forbid they teach you anything beyond how to refer to the gender of a child, much less how to conduct business.) While it may not have the direct salary impacting value of a progamming language that you can learn over a weekend, Mandarin is the embodiment of my experience with more than language.
Mandarin is the Saturdays and Sundays I gave up to attend additional classes every weekend.
Mandarin is the delayed gratification of watching my Saturday morning cartoons after lunch on VHS, with the added benefit that I could forward through all of the commercials.
Mandarin is the frustration and perseverence behind Friday evening homework marathons while my friends were enjoying their weekends.
Mandarin is my brother and I coming up with creative ways to make our homework faster, easier, and less painful.
Mandarin is a part of who I am as an Asian American.
All of those years culminate in my work ethic, in my passion for learning other languages, for my obsession with being a clear communicator, and my skills as a Program Manager.
So no, I didn’t ask for too much when I turned that opportunity down. I asked for what I’m worth.
The Mandarin comes at a premium.