Brag Sheet: Fill & Download for Free

In the early 20th century, the more leisure time you had, the more you showed your status. That has changed entirely. Now, the busier we are, the more we cram onto our calendars, keep our inboxes at zero (a tough task - that, honestly, could be a full-time job), manically post to social media, work late into the night, the more status we seem to have.It’s really crazy when you think about it.When I first began reporting on time pressure, and that feeling of being on the never-ending gerbil wheel of too much to do and never enough time to get to it - an existential state of being I call The Overwhelm - I initially thought that maybe being a journalist in Washington, DC had something to do with it. But I went to Fargo, North Dakota, where a researcher there has been studying the annual Holiday letters of people, mostly in the Midwest, that have increasingly become not just the typical brag sheets, but brag sheets about how crazy busy people are.It’s almost as if being busy now is not just a status symbol, but a clear sign that we measure up, we fit in with the “in” crowd, we’re worthy and important. The reasons are myriad about why we’ve gotten so busy - from technology creating a faster pace of life, rising costs and stagnating wages for many, work that’s become more complicated with fewer people to do it, changing and confusing gender roles to name just a few.But what continues to strike me the most, is how busyness keeps us separated from ourselves. We get so breathless, and often panicked, that we can no longer see the horizon. Social psychologists call the term “tunneling.” And when we keep digging and digging, it gets darker and darker, and we’re not even sure where we’re going, or why we’re digging so fast. In the Middle Ages, one of the seven deadly sins, sloth, had a flip side, acedia - the state of constant, mindless busyness. Philosophers thought of the two conditions as two sides of the same coin. Because in each, we are divorced from our own souls.What to do? Just stop. Even for a moment. Look up out of the tunnel. Breathe. Begin to create open space to remember who you are, what’s important to you and where it is you want to go, rather than racing faster and faster, going nowhere, in the dark.Here’s a link to an excerpt from one of the chapters in my book: Too Busy to Live, that ran in the Washington Post:Why being too busy makes us feel so good

For young Navy officers on active duty, but in the reserves, a very big step is being “Augmented,” meaning selected for transfer from the reserves into the regular Navy. This selection is done by a board of senior officers in Washington, DCI had a young LTJG (O2) who took some annual leave, went to the capital of a foreign country, entered a ballroom dancing contest and did very, very well.Now this young man was a good man, a gentleman and a gentle man. You would really like him to court your daughter. But, a Naval officer he really wasn’t.When it became fitness report time I gave him what we call a “brag sheet” where the officer being evaluated can list things he would like his CO/ reporting senior (me) to consider placing on his formal fitness report. Leadership successes, marksmanship, guidance of junior enlisted, et cetera.He had several worthwhile things that might make him somewhat competitive before the selection board for augmentation.But prominent on his brag sheet, in capital letters, was his civilian medals from the dance contest. Nice, but I didn’t include any of that in the formal fitness report draft I showed him a few days later. He protested that I must include reference to his dance awards.I told him that the Navy wouldn’t be selecting someone to replace Fred Astaire. He was insistent and I complied with his earnest request.I mentioned in the formal fitrep that was submitted to Washington about his dance accomplishment, concluding the sentence with…”which will do him well in his future civilian endeavors.”He was somewhat disappointed when he wasn’t selected for augmentation that year, nor the next, and also when he was passed over for promotion to LT (O-3.)

What they write is irrelevant, especially since so many letters are so bad. What matters is what the people on the receiving end want to read.I've read thousands of grad apps (and chaired grad admissions a few times), so I think I've got a fairly good sense of the latter. Indeed, I've written the following notes on the topic, which are widely read:Advice to Graduate School Recommendation Letter WritersI explain the process by which I (and many others) read letters, provide a template that writers can follow, and also address letters from non-academics. I think pretty much everything a letter-writer could want to know is in there (and if not they can ask me, and I'll add it).If you know someone who writes letters, and think they may not be perceptive to these issues, please point them to the above link. Thanks.In turn, if you are the applicant asking for the letter, you would do well to help out your professor. By which I do not mean write their letter for them, but rather, give them useful inputs that they can work with. Here is my note to my students about what they should provide me:Recommendation Letter from Me [NB: This is only for Brown students!]Obviously, be careful imitating this: your professor might not appreciate the “brag sheet” concept, so clear it with them first (if you want, blame it on me: “I saw this on a Web site, do you mind if I do something similar or would that not be okay?”).