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#152. What do you do?
Shem Opolot
December 19, 2025
Hi! Welcome to The Friday Fix! You’re reading this because you probably stumbled upon this post somewhere on the internet instead of where it should be—in your inbox. But no worries; we can fix that.
Who am I? I’m Shem Opolot, a health professional turned content creator, passionate about helping people be their best selves in life and work.
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I have over ten years of work experience in healthcare, program management, and data analytics on two continents. So, I know a little about helping you work smarter
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HAPPY FRIDAY 🎉 This is the last newsletter of the year. By the time most of you read it, I’ll be snuggled up with my wife and kids. The kids might’ve already started driving me crazy by then, and I may not have gotten enough sleep, but I’ll be exactly where I want to be.
Merry Christmas, (Happy birthday to me), and Happy New Year. Let’s circle back next year.
As Bikozulu says, the last one, please switch off the lights. Electricity is expensive.
LIFE.
What do you do?
I’ve worked in global health for close to a decade but it was only this year that I finally learned what I’d like to do in the field. Okay, that’s not true. I’ve known for a while, but I couldn’t articulate it.
And when you’re networking for a job, it helps to articulate your interests concisely. You loathe to be boxed in, but your resume must go in a box. So, just like you can’t solve a problem you’re not willing to have, you can’t get a job you’re not able to name.
Melissa, one of the greatest blessings God has given me recently (who I hope is reading this), helped me with this. She listened to me rant about my purpose and plans, my interests and ire; put me in a few boxes, and gave me the tools to go forth and network. It was awkward (for me) at first because I thought recruiters just got you jobs. I thought Melissa would give me a fish, but she taught me how to fish instead. More than awkward, it was a little painful, since I wanted fish desperately, but of course, it was worth it.
Now…network? Yuck. No one likes to “network.” Talking to people is hard enough; there’s no reason to add the transactional goo networking can leave on your skin, like the smell of weed sewn into your clothes. No one enjoys the cold emails and coffee and the dance where neither person wants to admit the stakes.
I know networking is awkward because I’ve been the guy someone wants to meet so they can get a job, and I’ve also been the guy who wants a job. Without concrete options or solutions, neither of those positions is great, but of course, one of them is much better.
I talked to so many people this year, taking a genuine interest in their career paths and their current work. Listening for what makes them tick. Listening for glimmers of hope seeping through the jaded scaffolding that props most of them up. In one of those conversations, a very kind lady, who carved out 20 minutes with me before her 6-year-old son’s soccer game, mentioned the term “global health diplomacy.” The Christmas lights in my mind flickered so brightly, like shy electricity returning after days of load shedding.
That was it.
You see, I was always surrounded by people who would go to war for specific issues in global health. For maternal health, or child health, or mental health, or just the numbers—any numbers, really. But I sat on the fence. Not because I couldn’t decide but because I believed I could bend my fence to encircle all those issues.
I just want people to be healthy without bankrupting themselves.
But the sciences are cruel to a young generalist, so I had to find a box that fit my broad shoulders.
Katie saying global health diplomacy reminded me that conversations are for learning and should be approached as such.
So I wore my newly coined credentials proudly, like epaulets on a military uniform, flashed them in subsequent conversations, and things snowballed from there.
But I soon realized there were no job ads saying “global health diplomat” so how was I ever going to do the thing?
I said many prayers and kept doing what Melissa told me to do: network.
Each conversation lengthened my lexicon, making me exceedingly better at pitching myself. I’d be a robot, I thought, but a robot with money and a mission.
A lot of time passed until one day, I saw this job ad on LinkedIn that intrigued me. I clicked the link that routed me to the organization’s website, where I read and re-read the job description but barely understood it. We all struggle to articulate things, you see.
The only thing that was clear was that I was qualified for the job, and the application required me to email my papers instead of submitting to the Workday or Greenhouse abyss—an exercise with a much higher non-ghosting rate.
After many rejections, I applied flippantly, trying (but failing) to convince myself I wasn’t married to the outcome. Even my wife, also bruised by previous close calls, already recited those procedural things people say to brace for disappointment.
But then I was invited for an interview. A rare in-person interview to which I wore my best blazer. They’d remember me, if not for my competence, then for my aura(?) (Did I use that right?), I told myself. My wife, just as shocked about the in-person first round interview as I was, insisted I swallow an AirTag, so they could locate my dismembered corpse.
Then they asked me to alert my references to expect calls from them. I’d been here before, so again, I told myself to relax. I did not relax.
Then…I started my new job on December 8.
Two days into the job, having been thrown into the deep end, attending high-level meetings with partners, and reading countless background context documents, two things stood out: 1) the phrase global health diplomacy was everywhere, and 2) Katie’s name popped up in one of the documents.
She and I will work together.
THINGS.
My favorite quote this year.
Simply because of all horror all over the world this year, these two quotes encourage me:
We live in capitalism, its power seems inescapable — but then, so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings.
We need to create sober, patient people, who do not despair in the face of the worst horror and who do not get excited about every little thing. Pessimism of the intellect, optimism of the will.
A rewind.
Beehiiv, the platform that hosts this newsletter, has its own version of Spotify Wrapped and the image below was one of my favorites they shared. A few other interesting stats on the newsletter this year were: 47 posts, an open rate of 61.1% (most newsletters would kill to earn 50%) and an average click through rate (CTR) of 9.3% (the industry standard for an exceptional CTR is ~2%). Thank you so much!
My favorite reads.
The only book I managed to read this year was Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. My excuse is my doctorate. But I read LOTS of gems of articles. Like this, this, this, this, and this.
A picture.
This is my favorite picture of the year because of the context it carries
Pictured while taking headshots for the new job in the freezing cold.
WORK.
My favorite work tools this year
Raycast. I’ll sing its praises forever.
Dia. Most people don’t care about their browser, but I’m exactly the kind of person Dia was made for. I look forward to surfing the internet because of it.
Granola. Granola’s meeting transcription is best I’ve tried. My favorite feature is you can group all your related meetings in folders and then ask Granola questions about the contents of a meeting from say, months ago. Exceptional.
Beehiiv. The platform that powers this newsletter. Need I say more?
Reader/Readwise. One of the only apps I pay for religiously. Reader and Readwise is how I store (and remember) everything I read. You have it to thank for the endless flow of quotes I share.
FUN.
The Friday Fix playlist
Your picks
> The Ringer’s 100 best TV episodes of the century
> This year’s best TV shows
Have a great weekend,
— Shem
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