The Diary of A Wannabe Writer

The Interview

I hadn’t gotten my very first job until I had graduated from high school at the age of 18. My mom had always wanted my siblings and I to focus on school since that was essentially the key to our futures. That being said, I had no idea what to expect when I did get a job, which was better retail or fast food? Would I have to work myself to the bone? What if no one wants to hire me? It was a really scary process to even think about.

The first establishment to approach me with an interview was Rochester’s very first Chick- Fil-A which had already been around for about a year. When I arrived I was absolutely terrified. I had no clue what to expect but was put at ease fairly quickly once the owner or the restaurant (who is also African American) greeted me. He went on to ask me a varying array of questions ranging from academic experiences to different philosophical ideas. He became ecstatic once I revealed that was my class Valedictorian and it seemed as if the deal was sealed and I was definitely leaving with a job. But then he said I also needed to be interviewed by the manager (who was Caucasion). Once the manager came out and introduced himself the atmosphere had completely changed and he had done what Adichie described, “Her default position toward me, as an African, was a kind of patronizing, well-meaning pity”.

The manager barely asked me questions and mostly talked about why he chose to work there and how the establishment was his, ‘blood, sweat, and tears’. When I did answer questions he was completely uninterested, as if he could care less. This was interesting because he was acting like a completely different person with the other caucastions in the establishment. I didn’t want to label him as a bigot because I didn’t want to confine him to such a box after just one encounter but warning bells had definitely gone off.

Luckily I did walk out of the interview with a job, but I was not prepared for what was to come.

Bad Decision

I was a very fast learner and became one of the key members of the kitchen which did not please the little boys (since no one was over the age of 26 at the time) who had already been trying to work their way to manager. It wasn’t my intention to step on any toes, I actively tried to remain in the background because I’m not a big fan of being the center of attention. I was just simply giving the job my best, and it just so happened to catch the attention of the managers.

It got to the point that I was becoming shift leader multiple nights a week, and almost every shift once the “favorite” had left for a few months. I was even being tasked with checking inventory at the end of each shift and creating the daily shift chart, some people had even begun mentioning my name for the open managerial position.

Once the establishment's prodigal son had returned however, management's true colors were revealed when they began removing my name as shift lead, yet telling me to keep carrying out the same duties. Then they told me that they did not believe I was really ready for the level of responsibility attached to being a manager and suggested that I would be better suited to be a trainer for new hires which as Adichie puts it, “Power is the ability not just to tell the story of another person, but to make it the definitive story of that person”. My managers were unable to look past me being black and reduced me to what they believed black people were capable of doing, despite me proving otherwise. This was hammered home when said prodigal son was promoted the week after that conversation and all of a sudden I became difficult to work with according to him.

A New Beginning

In a perfect world this story would be about a hardworking and dedicated employee who was able to bring a little light to her workplace and was appreciated and respected for her contributions and skill. She would have received the credit that was due to her and should have been given the opportunity to thrive and grow in that community. Unfortunately though, this is not a perfect world.