Sunday morning we turned on the heat. Too many of the trees had already shed their leaves for me to justify another day trip to some pretty place. And a rawness at the back of my throat scratched like a bug stuck between the blinds and window pane - the cold is coming and we're already fighting it.
Besides our trying-to-stay-cozy weekend, I want to try and share some things I’ve learned lately. Most likely it’s not new information to others, but the process of acquiring this information was to me (in retrospect only, and hopefully to you now) a bit humorous. I’m talking about job hunting.
Growing up, I had at least a normal amount of work experience. There were summer jobs, after school and weekend jobs in high school, part and then full time office jobs during college. I’m an honest and hard worker, and was able to find pleasure in each different job. I remember the pharmacy manager kindly insisting that I didn’t have to clean the floor mats with a Mr. Clean magic eraser, but then continuing to scrub because I could see the clear line between dirt and cleanliness that I had made.
The thing about all of these jobs is - that through one way or another, the person hiring knew me or trusted my family. Cleaning at Grandma and Grandaddy’s office, answering the phone and digitizing transcripts for Aunt Mary, filling my sister’s position at the pharmacy when she went off to college, helping hostess at the restaurant where my best friend waited tables. Then off to college - typing up oral speeches, stuffing envelopes, taking photos at special events, doing secretarial work were all gigs my mom mentioned to me when she heard of co-workers at the university who needed help.
To give myself a little credit, I proved myself worth keeping once I got the jobs, but it didn’t change the fact that the reason I ever got a chance was because the person hiring possessed respected my last name or had some personal insight about me.
I mention all of that to say that even though I am well into my upper twenties now, the past few months was the first time I’ve ever stepped out and found a job completely on my own. An unfamiliar city with little to no experience in my desired field of elementary education. No one to vouch for me (I'm so thankful for Isaac who saw me through it all - a source of distraction, tips and endless encouragement).
It was a humbling and stressful task to boil the essence of me down to one sheet of paper and (if I was lucky) 30 minutes of conversation. Reflecting on it all now, I learned a few things worth sharing - about job hunting and moving through life.
Be proud and ready to prove what you say.
As a shy, youngest child, I’ve made a habit of hiding parts of myself and letting others do the talking for me. This does not translate well into adulthood, particularly job hunting. My first job interview was at a private school with a particular philosophy and learning practices about which I had no special training. This did not preclude me from getting the job, I did that part myself. I acted as I normally do in new, unfamiliar situations - say as little as possible and let the other person do the most of the talking. The interviewer noticed that I listed piano playing on my resume, and suggested that I play something for her. Being my typical shy self, I put it off until the end of the interview and then sat down on the wooden bench, carefully adjusting and readjusting its distance from the piano. I played the A section of a Debussy piece, and then the famous lick from a Liszt piece. My hands were shaking and I couldn’t remember any more. I’d been without a keyboard for 10 months in Korea, all of my memorized pieces had slipped into shambles. My parents had brought up our family keyboard to me a couple of weeks ago, but I was still polishing old pieces, not memorizing. The funny thing is, I almost brought sheet music with me to the interview, then scolded myself for being silly - it was an interview for elementary education, not a piano recital after all.
At my first interview I was shy, not confident and not prepared to support what I had put on my resume. That job was definitely not fated for me, but it still hurt my pride. Playing the piano is dear to me, and it’s about time I overcome my stage fright. In the time since then, I’ve been diligently re-memorizing pieces - three down as of today and two more close behind.
Sometimes there is no ending and you just have to move on.
A different afternoon. Me across the table from a panel of three. A list of questions before each of us, I carefully read and respond to each. Most are the anecdotal “what would you do” sort of questions. Lots of smiling and nodding, with a concluding word from the principal. Expressed regrets that the hiring process runs through the district - meaning that it would take a while and that I would not hear directly from them. Reassurance that he calls all applicants directly as a courtesy to let them know one way or another. While waiting in the next few days, then weeks for a call that never came, I tried to figure out what I might have said wrong. I didn’t, but I moved on.
Covert rejection tactics are used by adults too.
It was like I was experiencing deja vu, or reliving the foggy part of a dream. The job hunt continued - different schools, different rooms, but the way each interview ended seemed the same. Responsibility-shifting phrases like “Well, I’ll talk to my supervisor,” “It goes through the district,” “You won’t hear back from me”. I should have recognized them well, having used them many times myself. “I’ll have to ask my mom,” “I’ll have to double-check with my family”. Sterling phrases to use instead of saying “no”, delaying the rejection in order to be socially polite.
And that’s why when an interview finally ended differently - with talks of pay cycles and jotting down a working phone number for me - I felt the difference, like some cool fizzy soda was pulsing through my veins instead of blood. And so I did what almost anyone would do in that situation - called my mom. Later that week I got the call, and the job.
When in doubt, do something prestigious.
At that young, impressionable age of picking colleges and majors, I had no clue what to do. The possibilities (and my interests) felt endless. In retrospect, since I was uncertain, I should have selected something more prestigious, something that would have challenged me. I chose my university, and then my major and minor, based on alignment with my interests - the unfortunately narrow view of a teenager I guess. I wish I would have possessed the foresight to keep my interests as just hobbies and declare a prestigious major with more promising career options. I confused comfort with calling, what was familiar with what I should learn.
But it’s through discomfort and challenges that we grow and become better. After finishing college and working full-time for a while, I decided to go back to graduate school. I chose a field that still feels both uncomfortable and challenging to me - elementary education. The past few years of attending graduate school and now starting a new job have helped me grow as a person tremendously, besides any professional growth. I don't regret the journey I'm on, but it's another lesson I've learned and hope to pass on.
If you've made it this far - thank you. You must love me or be bored. I'll be sure to return with something more light-hearted and fun next week.
