The foreword and the first two chapters, unchanged from the book.
I have led a team for years, and almost every year someone new joins: an apprentice, a student working part-time, an intern, a graduate in their first job. And almost every time, in the first few weeks, I see the same thing.
Hardly anyone fails at the technical side. What the newcomers know, they learned at school, at vocational school or at university, and what they don't know yet, they pick up quickly. Where things get stuck is something else: the moments when you ought to speak up and don't know how.
The task you didn't understand but don't want to ask about. The criticism that makes you go red and fall silent. The mistake you'd rather quietly fix yourself before anyone sees it. The break where everyone is talking about the boss and you don't know whether to laugh along. The email to your professor that takes you half an hour. The salary conversation where you can't get the number out.
For every one of these moments there are phrases that work. Not memorised lines, but short, calm formulations that create clarity without you having to make yourself small or puff yourself up. This book collects them.
And it does one more thing that most guides for newcomers don't: for every situation, it shows you what is happening on the other side of the table. What your trainer is thinking when you ask for the third time. What the team lead sees when you admit a mistake. What the professor reads when your email lands. I know that side, because I sit on it. Most conflicts in the first years of working life don't arise because someone means harm, but because neither side knows what the other is dealing with at that moment.
This book is mainly for you if you are an adult and are starting an apprenticeship or vocational training, or are in your first years at work. Many of the situations also help during an internship, a student job and the move into work after university. It is not a guide to applying for jobs – it begins where the application ends: on your first day at work. And it is not legal advice. Where rights and duties are involved, I tell you where to get the binding answer.
A word about the examples: I experienced them in Germany, where vocational training usually runs as a dual system – a few days a week in the company, a few at vocational school, with a training plan and with chambers of commerce and crafts as the responsible bodies. In your country the names, institutions and rules may be different. The principles in this book don't depend on that: how you ask, how you report a mistake, how you set a limit and how you look at the other side work the same way everywhere. Where specific rules apply, ask the responsible bodies in your country.
Many situations in this book follow the same pattern: first an unhelpful phrase, then a better wording, and finally the explanation of why it works. Don't use the examples as rigid scripts. Adapt the form of address, tone and choice of words to your workplace and to the person you're talking to.
Not every situation fits every kind of start. If you are in an apprenticeship, you'll find a lot about trainers, vocational school, responsible bodies and the training plan. For an internship, a student job or your first job, transfer those roles to your direct manager, your mentor or the HR department. The basic questions stay the same: what is expected of me, how do I ask, how do I report mistakes and where do I set limits?
In the end, what matters is not whether you get everything right in the first few weeks. Nobody does. What matters is whether, in the difficult moments, you know what to say.
Why the first weeks feel so uncertain – and why that's normal.
The first weeks in a company, an internship or a new job have their own kind of exhaustion. You're tired in the evening even though you've hardly done anything heavy. You wonder whether you're too slow, too quiet, asking too much. You watch the others and get the feeling that everyone but you knows how things work here.
The feeling is normal. It has a simple reason: you're not just learning the work, you're learning a whole system at the same time – people, processes, language, unspoken rules. That takes energy, regardless of how good you are.
What easily gets mixed up here: being new and being stupid are two completely different things. Someone who's new doesn't know certain things yet. That's a state, not a problem. Nobody expects you to know on day three where the spare parts are kept, what the ticketing system is called or why the colleague in purchasing is better approached in the morning.
In the first weeks you aren't judged on technical skill alone. Your trainer – the person responsible for your training in the company –, your team lead or your mentor pays at least as much attention to how you work and how you communicate. Three questions are usually in the foreground:
Technical gaps are expected. These three points are not. Whoever meets them gets time and patience for everything else. Whoever doesn't, gets neither – no matter how good the grades were.
There are two typical reactions to the uncertainty of the first weeks. The first is bluffing: nodding, saying "all clear" and hoping it somehow works out. The second is clarity: saying what you've understood, naming what's still open, and asking specific questions.
Acting feels better in the short term and costs the most in the long run. Clarity feels uncomfortable in the moment and is the only thing that really builds trust on the other side of the table.
That's why you won't find phrases in this book that make you seem more in control than you are. You'll find phrases that let you stay clear when you're unsure. That's something different – and it works considerably better.
Weak phrase: "Yes, all clear." (when nothing is clear)
Better phrase: "I understood the first part. I'm not sure about the second – could you say that again?"
Why: The first phrase buys you twenty seconds of peace and costs you an hour and a point of trust later. The second shows that you're listening and that your "understood" can be relied on.
The other side Trainers usually remember their own first weeks only vaguely. They've seen their company from the inside for years and take for granted many things that aren't obvious to you. So if something isn't explained to you, it's rarely on purpose. It's the blindness of routine. And it clears up fastest when you ask.
Takeaway: You don't have to know how everything works. You have to show that you can be relied on.
What counts, what doesn't – and what to say when nobody has time for you.
An example of what the first day often looks like: Lena arrives at a quarter to eight, as agreed. Her trainer is in a meeting. The colleague at reception knows nothing about her. Lena sits on a chair in the corridor for half an hour, then gets a desk, a computer without login and the sentence: "Just have a look around for now." By eleven she's heard four people's names and forgotten three of them.
That's how it goes in many companies. It isn't disrespect, it's everyday life: a newcomer's first day is the biggest event of the month for you. For the company, it's a Tuesday.
Not whether you're already achieving anything. Three things:
One sentence is enough, and it can be very simple: "Hi, I'm Lena, I'm starting today as an apprentice in purchasing." Then a handshake or a nod, whatever's usual here. You don't have to say anything clever. You just have to make sure people know your name and your place.
If you've forgotten a name – and you will –, ask again the same day. On the first day that's perfectly normal. In the third week it's embarrassing.
Weak phrase: (say nothing and hope someone mentions the name again)
Better phrase: "Sorry, I've heard so many names today – what was yours again?"
Why: Nobody minds that on the first day. Everyone knows what it's like. The question costs three seconds and saves you weeks of awkward avoidance.
This is the most common moment of the first day, and most newcomers sit through it in silence. Better: offer something.
Weak phrase: "Okay, I'll wait then."
Better phrase: "I can see there's a lot going on. Is there something I could look at in the meantime – documents, the system, the department?"
Why: You take the decision about what to do with you off your trainer's hands. On the first day, that's the biggest help you can give.
On the first day, terms, abbreviations and names come at you thick and fast. You won't understand everything. What matters is only that you say so before you build anything on it.
Weak phrase: "Yes, sure."
Better phrase: "That's new to me – what exactly does it mean?"
Why: On the first day no question is too simple. Every abbreviation you clear up today, you won't have to guess tomorrow.
It happens more often than you'd think: everyone in jeans, you in a shirt – or the other way round. Don't apologise, don't comment. Tomorrow you come dressed like the others. If someone mentions it: "I didn't know what was usual here – now I do." Done.
The other side On your first day, your trainer has five other things on his desk. He hasn't forgotten you, but you're not at the top of the list either. What he notices – and remembers: whether you were on time, whether you introduced yourself unprompted, whether you asked instead of waiting with your phone out, and whether you said "Thanks, see you tomorrow" at the end of the day. Four small things. They shape the impression of the coming weeks more than anything you show technically.
Takeaway: On the first day, it isn't your performance that's judged but your attitude. And that's simple: be there, introduce yourself, ask.
The book goes on to the unwritten rules of the workplace, the 12 biggest pitfalls, criticism, mistakes, colleagues, internships, university, pay and being taken on – with the right words for every situation.