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Отк­ры­та ус­лу­га mock in­tervi­ew! Го­товы ли Вы к ин­тервью с при­ем­ной ко­мис­си­ей?

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Примеры эссе

HR Management
Мне всег­да нра­вилось ра­ботать с людь­ми, по­это­му еще в шко­ле я оп­ре­дели­ла для се­бя эту сте­зю. Это, дей­стви­тель­но, очень ин­те­рес­но по­нять внут­ренние цен­ности че­лове­ка, его стрем­ле­ния, це­ли. По­нима­ние лю­дей есть ключ к дос­ти­жению эф­фектив­ности их ра­боты. Далее…

Life experiences (Robin Williams Speech from Good WIll Hunting)

Se­an: Tho­ught abo­ut what you sa­id to me the ot­her day, abo­ut my pa­in­ting. Sta­yed up half the night thin­king abo­ut it. So­met­hing oc­curred to me… fell in­to a de­ep pe­ace­ful sle­ep, and ha­ven’t tho­ught abo­ut you sin­ce. Do you know what oc­curred to me?

Will: No.

Se­an: You’re just a kid, you don’t ha­ve the fa­in­test idea what you’re tal­kin’ abo­ut.

Will: Why thank you.

Se­an: It’s all right. You’ve ne­ver be­en out of Bos­ton.

Will: No­pe.

Se­an: So if I as­ked you abo­ut art, you’d pro­bab­ly gi­ve me the skin­ny on eve­ry art bo­ok ever writ­ten. Mi­chelan­ge­lo, you know a lot abo­ut him. Li­fe’s work, po­liti­cal as­pi­rati­ons, him and the po­pe, se­xu­al ori­en­ta­ti­ons, the who­le works, right? But I’ll bet you can’t tell me what it smells li­ke in the Sis­ti­ne Cha­pel. You’ve ne­ver ac­tu­al­ly sto­od the­re and lo­oked up at that be­auti­ful ce­iling; se­en that.
If I ask you abo­ut wo­men, you’d pro­bab­ly gi­ve me a syl­la­bus abo­ut your per­so­nal fa­vori­tes. You may ha­ve even be­en la­id a few ti­mes. But you can’t tell me what it fe­els li­ke to wa­ke up next to a wo­man and fe­el tru­ly hap­py.
You’re a to­ugh kid. And I’d ask you abo­ut war, you’d pro­bab­ly throw Sha­kes­pe­are at me, right, «on­ce mo­re un­to the bre­ach de­ar fri­ends.» But you’ve ne­ver be­en ne­ar one. You’ve ne­ver held your best fri­end’s he­ad in your lap, watch him gasp his last bre­ath lo­oking to you for help.
I’d ask you abo­ut lo­ve, you’d pro­bab­ly quo­te me a son­net. But you’ve ne­ver lo­oked at a wo­man and be­en to­tal­ly vul­ne­rab­le. Known so­me­one that co­uld le­vel you with her eyes, fe­eling li­ke God put an an­gel on earth just for you. Who co­uld res­cue you from the depths of hell.
And you wo­uldn’t know what it’s li­ke to be her an­gel, to ha­ve that lo­ve for her, be the­re fo­rever, thro­ugh anyt­hing, thro­ugh can­cer. And you wo­uldn’t know abo­ut sle­eping sit­ting up in the hos­pi­tal ro­om for two months, hol­ding her hand, be­ca­use the doc­tors co­uld see in your eyes, that the terms «vi­siting ho­urs» don’t app­ly to you. You don’t know abo­ut re­al loss, ’ca­use it on­ly oc­curs when you’ve lo­ved so­met­hing mo­re than you lo­ve your­self.
And I do­ubt you’ve ever da­red to lo­ve any­body that much. And lo­ok at you… I don’t see an in­telli­gent, con­fi­dent man… I see a coc­ky, sca­red shit­less kid. But you’re a ge­ni­us Will. No one de­ni­es that. No one co­uld pos­sibly un­ders­tand the depths of you. But you pre­sume to know eve­ryt­hing abo­ut me be­ca­use you saw a pa­in­ting of mi­ne, and you rip­ped my fuc­king li­fe apart. You’re an orp­han right?

[Will nods]

Se­an: You think I know the first thing abo­ut how hard your li­fe has be­en, how you fe­el, who you are, be­ca­use I re­ad Oli­ver Twist? Do­es that en­capsu­late you? Per­so­nal­ly… I don’t gi­ve a shit abo­ut all that, be­ca­use you know what, I can’t le­arn anyt­hing from you, I can’t re­ad in so­me fuc­kin’ bo­ok. Un­less you want to talk abo­ut you, who you are. Then I’m fas­ci­nated. I’m in. But you don’t want to do that do you sport? You’re ter­ri­fi­ed of what you might say.
Your mo­ve, chi­ef.