Too lazy to get up and turn the television channel to something more worthwhile, I found myself watching Undercover Boss last night. It was actually a "best of" show highlighting some of the more extreme situations. What stood out to me as these company presidents and leaders of business worked alongside their employees, doing whatever was required to earn them a paycheck, was that so many of these employees were at that particular job for one simple reason: money. Not the kind of money the business owner was making since he or she undoubtedly had more education and caught the breaks necessary to climb the ladder of success, but a paycheck nonetheless which would allow another mortgage to be paid and kids to find something on their dinner plates. I wondered what had happened somewhere along the line to get these people to this point in life. Naturally I reflected on my own path.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" is the question asked to children and kids getting ready to don cap and gown to walk across a stage, receiving a diploma and a handshake. Does anyone ever say, "I want to work in a dead-end job?" I remember thinking that I would love to travel, write, and become rich and famous. The rich and famous part would be necessary to make the traveling possible.
Trying to figure out what to major in if one is fortunate enough to get to go to college is not easy. Especially when I had just turned 18 and had no idea what life was like in the wider world. One of the good things about being from a small town is that everyone knows you. One of the bad things about being from a small town is that everyone knows you. This sense that others may be looking out for your best interests is not how life works. And though I never felt alone sitting by myself in the woods or in the tree where I liked to read or write in my journal, I often feel very alone in the midst of people. I thought that becoming a journalist would somehow shield me from that insecurity because I would be the one asking the questions--the one in charge of presenting the unvarnished truth to the eager, awaiting masses. (With that kind of imagination I should have majored in English or Drama!)
I keep hearing that recent graduates are having a hard time finding work in their chosen fields. I remember facing the same problem. It is at times like this that survival instincts kick in. The paycheck becomes the bottom line, even a paycheck way below what you thought you would be earning with the amount of effort involved in higher education. This was the case in my first job when my soon-to-be employer told me that he could not afford to pay me what I was worth but the job was mine if I wanted it. Rent was due and my unplanned fasting was getting the better of me. Thus would begin a series of dead-end jobs that in no way reflected what my childhood dreams were about. And yet, there was still a spark, a lingering hope, a desire that would not die.
My first job out of college ended when a partner embezzled a large sum of money, thanks in part to my efficient work as an unknowing accomplice, which eventually encouraged my boss to accept an offer to sell his company when he had the chance. I was grateful to not be indicted and do prison time, like the hapless partner, so I became a temporary employee going from office to office often answering phones and trying to make the best of it. Being a temp provided me with so much more expertise than I ever imagined. I would learn how to deal with sexual harassment in a never-ending variety of situations, and to cope with all of the rest of the people who thought I was not worthy of respect because I was, after all, a temp. My best temp job was at a law firm in which a team of us worked on a long-term project. Every single one of us had unrealized hopes and dreams. Writers, actors, musicians, teachers, a paralegal and a school principal who wanted to make movies made up our ranks of those-who-had-not-yet-fulfilled-their-callings-in-life. We became friends as we celebrated our potential and laughed at the mundane nature of our current work lives. We took turns choosing music for the office and making each other cakes. It didn't matter that we were getting paid horrible wages and were seen as nobodies because we could see each other through a lens of truth. We may have looked like mild mannered Clark Kents but we knew we were really superheroes just waiting for the chance to fly. And maybe even save someone--perhaps ourselves.
Still, after all of these years, I find it interesting that the question, "What do you do?" is difficult to answer. To say I'm a preschool teacher is kind of misleading because I don't see myself as a teacher at all. I've spent the past nine months rocking babies to sleep and being blessed to do it. Does my job require higher education? No. It requires a compassionate heart and a willing spirit. One also needs to show up on time and be responsible but aside from that, there isn't a lot of training necessary. Sometimes I say I'm an artist, depending on the person asking the question. That is also confusing since it is more of a hobby than a business, especially based on the amount of money I bring home.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a writer. Always have been, always will be. So am I rich and famous? Rich in blessings. Famous among those on my Christmas list. Have I traveled? I got to live in Denver for about a decade, went to California a couple of times, as well as New York. I've been to Quebec and spoke French. I have traveled to far and distant places through the many books I've read and movies I've seen.
What most of the undercover bosses came to understand is that their employees are not that different from them. Maybe life threw some of these workers some curves and they had some extra struggles along the way, self-inflicted or otherwise. At the end of the day we all want to come home and feel like whatever it was that we did mattered. That we matter. And whether or not we have achieved our dreams or not, there is still hope. And no one can take that away.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" is the question asked to children and kids getting ready to don cap and gown to walk across a stage, receiving a diploma and a handshake. Does anyone ever say, "I want to work in a dead-end job?" I remember thinking that I would love to travel, write, and become rich and famous. The rich and famous part would be necessary to make the traveling possible.
Trying to figure out what to major in if one is fortunate enough to get to go to college is not easy. Especially when I had just turned 18 and had no idea what life was like in the wider world. One of the good things about being from a small town is that everyone knows you. One of the bad things about being from a small town is that everyone knows you. This sense that others may be looking out for your best interests is not how life works. And though I never felt alone sitting by myself in the woods or in the tree where I liked to read or write in my journal, I often feel very alone in the midst of people. I thought that becoming a journalist would somehow shield me from that insecurity because I would be the one asking the questions--the one in charge of presenting the unvarnished truth to the eager, awaiting masses. (With that kind of imagination I should have majored in English or Drama!)
I keep hearing that recent graduates are having a hard time finding work in their chosen fields. I remember facing the same problem. It is at times like this that survival instincts kick in. The paycheck becomes the bottom line, even a paycheck way below what you thought you would be earning with the amount of effort involved in higher education. This was the case in my first job when my soon-to-be employer told me that he could not afford to pay me what I was worth but the job was mine if I wanted it. Rent was due and my unplanned fasting was getting the better of me. Thus would begin a series of dead-end jobs that in no way reflected what my childhood dreams were about. And yet, there was still a spark, a lingering hope, a desire that would not die.
My first job out of college ended when a partner embezzled a large sum of money, thanks in part to my efficient work as an unknowing accomplice, which eventually encouraged my boss to accept an offer to sell his company when he had the chance. I was grateful to not be indicted and do prison time, like the hapless partner, so I became a temporary employee going from office to office often answering phones and trying to make the best of it. Being a temp provided me with so much more expertise than I ever imagined. I would learn how to deal with sexual harassment in a never-ending variety of situations, and to cope with all of the rest of the people who thought I was not worthy of respect because I was, after all, a temp. My best temp job was at a law firm in which a team of us worked on a long-term project. Every single one of us had unrealized hopes and dreams. Writers, actors, musicians, teachers, a paralegal and a school principal who wanted to make movies made up our ranks of those-who-had-not-yet-fulfilled-their-callings-in-life. We became friends as we celebrated our potential and laughed at the mundane nature of our current work lives. We took turns choosing music for the office and making each other cakes. It didn't matter that we were getting paid horrible wages and were seen as nobodies because we could see each other through a lens of truth. We may have looked like mild mannered Clark Kents but we knew we were really superheroes just waiting for the chance to fly. And maybe even save someone--perhaps ourselves.
Still, after all of these years, I find it interesting that the question, "What do you do?" is difficult to answer. To say I'm a preschool teacher is kind of misleading because I don't see myself as a teacher at all. I've spent the past nine months rocking babies to sleep and being blessed to do it. Does my job require higher education? No. It requires a compassionate heart and a willing spirit. One also needs to show up on time and be responsible but aside from that, there isn't a lot of training necessary. Sometimes I say I'm an artist, depending on the person asking the question. That is also confusing since it is more of a hobby than a business, especially based on the amount of money I bring home.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a writer. Always have been, always will be. So am I rich and famous? Rich in blessings. Famous among those on my Christmas list. Have I traveled? I got to live in Denver for about a decade, went to California a couple of times, as well as New York. I've been to Quebec and spoke French. I have traveled to far and distant places through the many books I've read and movies I've seen.
What most of the undercover bosses came to understand is that their employees are not that different from them. Maybe life threw some of these workers some curves and they had some extra struggles along the way, self-inflicted or otherwise. At the end of the day we all want to come home and feel like whatever it was that we did mattered. That we matter. And whether or not we have achieved our dreams or not, there is still hope. And no one can take that away.
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