I lack professionalism.

I know that I lack professionalism because more than one instructor and student here at the University of Oregon has told me so. Interestingly, in my thirty-six year work history, no employer has ever noticed my lack of professionalism. Perhaps that is because I’ve never had a profession. Until now, I’ve only held real jobs.

So what am I missing?

Nasty people whom I wouldn’t emulate on a bet use the word as an accusation. People tell me that I lack professionalism when they mean that I’m not white enough. (I have the wrong clothes, vocabulary, body language, opinions, connections, assumptions, cultural references and life experiences). Classmates wave the word around like incense meant to cover the stink of selfishness. (I am too gullible, too fallible, too vulnerable). Men invoke it as absolution for sexism (I value children over deadlines, people over paperwork, learning something over proving something). Instructors use it to explain any ambiguous instruction (“…obviously you should have known that…”). It is most often used as a catch-all explanation for my many faults (I am too pushy or too passive, too ambitious or too lazy, too threatening or too inconsequential). At best, professionalism is the secret handshake of the snooty. At worst, professionalism is the psychosis that allows the Seventh Cavalry to cherish its own homes and children while dutifully slaughtering Sioux babies and torching tipis at Wounded Knee.

Who needs it?

On the other hand, professionalism appears in the vocabulary of folks I admire. How does my advisor listen to people like me whine all day without—just once—pimp slapping one of us silly? How does my professor graciously fail to notice the symptoms of a stuttering crush in two-thirds of each freshman class? How does my classmate locate the fatal flaw in my design without resorting to insult? How does my studio instructor manage to kick my butt and pat my back at the same time? Each one claims to have cultivated professionalism. It’s like a superpower.

Seriously, how do I get me some of that?

Representatives at the school of architecture's 2006 Professional Firms Visiting Day offer some ideas. David Avila of Avila Design sees an increase in the professionalism of recent graduates. Generation X, he explains, came to work angry and with a "...sense of entitlement." Generation Y, by contrast, is, "Smart, hardworking and fun to be around."

CSHQA of Boise, Idaho employs 69 people. The firm generally has good luck with the professionalism of University of Oregon graduates. They fit right into office culture. Some schools, says Jim Murray, produce graduates who practice ARCHITECTURE. "They refuse to compromise or acknowlege the needs of the users," he says.

Rob Samish of Lionakis Beaumont Design Group says that professionalism is present wherever designers are "...making a difference." The secret, he says, is teamwork: working collaboratively, practicing conflict resolution and actively mentoring others.

Another visiting professional, overhearing his colleague's answer, agrees that professionalism is the opposite of, "Me me me." The details, he says, vary from coworker to coworker and from client to client. "Listen," he advises. Professionals understand the diversity of human need.

Many believe that professionalism is just another word for ethical behavior. No matter what defines your corporate culture or your approach to the work, directness and honesty make a person dependable. And dependable is a synonym for professional.

Jim Murray of CSHQA offers a simple solution. Professionalism, he explains, isn't about fitting in. Professionalism is the ability to calmly acknowledge that the "...match just isn't there," and to "...move on." People who cannot work together in the same office might complement one another as consultants working in different firms. When you support a coworker's search for somewhere to belong, you don't lose a colleague. You gain an ally.

Teresa Preston of CSHQA says there's only one real way to tell if you've got professionalism. Do you have repeat clients? If you do, then you've got it. How do you keep it? "Go home!" She advises. If you leave work regularly, your professionalism will be waiting for you when you get back.

My favorite response is also the most specific. Young professional Jean Von Bargen believes that the whole key to professionalism is Lycra.

Lycra? The synthetic fabric Lycra? Like in leotards and swimsuits? That Lycra?

Yes.

Von Bargen represents a firm with an office culture that encourages bicycle commuting and other eco-friendly behaviors. It also, however, insists on the traditional corporate dress code of suits, slacks and skirts. The only way to do the former while wearing the latter is to have a work wardrobe made from the fabric originally invented for professional dance costumes. So what if it's a petrochemical? Until codes catch up with ideals, a professional demeanor depends on camouflage.

Interested in different perspectives? Department heads Stan Jones and Kate Wagle talk about professionalism in Architecture and in Art.