WORKPLACE CULTURE

I thought I had hit the jackpot. I landed a job for the summer at my favorite fast food restaurant – Sonic. I couldn’t wait for the day that I was racing around delivering food on roller blades. Sadly, that dream quickly faded.

The first day that I was scheduled to work was in the middle of the afternoon. The manager, Marla, did not believe in wasting time training, so instead she just threw new workers right into the mix of things and hoped that they caught on quick. Uhhhhhhh, what?! Sonic has thousands of different ways to make drinks and a computer abbreviation system that had to be learned. My heart was beating fast when I walked into the kitchen that first day. I was so excited to be working and I didn’t want to mess things up. Drink orders started coming in and Marla tried to explain things as she was filling the cups. I tried to catch everything she said, but I knew there was no way that I was going to remember it all. When she finally let me try I was hesitant. The first couple of drinks were easy, but the orders seemed to get progressively more frequent and more complicated. I messed a couple of drinks up without realizing, and Marla promptly let me know.  I could hear the frustration in her voice. I looked to the other employees for understanding, but they just ducked their heads and looked away. They wanted nothing to do with this.

Things only seemed to get worse the more shifts that I worked. Marla was intimidating and aggressive toward everyone that worked there. She did not hesitate to call people out when they made mistakes. I saw several people walk out crying due to her abrasive comments. The tension I felt was unbearable. Four weeks after I was hired – I quit.

I may have been a young, gullible 16 year old at the time that I was hired, but I didn’t feel that was justification for Marla’s behavior. She did not respect any of her employees and created a very hostile work environment. What about you? Have you ever had bosses that were hard to work for? What did you do?

ENGLISH

I remember feeling so constrained. Each day I would show up to class unhappy. I didn’t want to be in an English class where all we did was analyze and respond to other people’s writings. It was boring beyond belief. The excerpts were always academic and professional and our responses were supposed to be similar. I did not understand the point.

I had always enjoyed writing. Expressing my thoughts on paper came much more natural than words. For a period of time, the academic response papers changed that. I felt as though I was not able to write the way that I enjoyed. We had to abide by a certain format, be mindful of word choice, and have impeccable grammar. Writing became more of a science than an art, and I hated it.

The next year, English changed. Poems, projects, plays, papers. We did it all. English was fun again. My grades in English that year were higher than they had ever been. It took me a while, but I finally realized that all the rules and restriction from the year before had done wonders for my writing. I was more aware of my sentence structures, my grammar was great, and I never used the words ‘is’ or ‘that’, words that had been forbidden.

Having English classes that were all about perfection were rough and it was hard to see the point at the time. When I look back at my scholarly career though, it all makes sense. Each teacher has a unique teaching style and emphasized different things. Collectively, all of the hard work along with the fun, creative assignments made me the writer that I am today.

What about you? Were all your English classes to die for, or did you have a couple of sour apples?

EMILY

She did not have to care; in fact, she had plenty of reasons not to. Once patients came to the facility, they were predicted to last five years maximum, but few made it that long. Most were irritable, nagging, and hard to communicate with. She worked long hours and was severely underpaid. Work at the nursing home was physically and mentally strenuous, yet Emily managed to push through all the barriers and create a thoroughly enjoyable workplace for anyone who had the opportunity to experience Emily at her work.

My great- grandmother lived in the nursing home for three years. During that time, I began to recognize several of the staff members. Each one was the same: performed the duties assigned mechanically and without emotion. It was more than obvious that they were there for the paycheck, not the patient. One day on a visit, my great- grandmother asked for Emily. I had never heard her request anyone before, so I was interested to see this Emily. As soon as she walked into the room I understood. She smiled. She was young. She was pretty. She greeted my great- grandmother by name. She moved about the room efficiently, yet with meticulous grace and care. Emily made conversation with us as she worked. It was not long before her name began to echo down the halls, since she was the only worker who took the time to learn how each individual liked things done. As soon as she finished in our room she excused herself and pursued the next need.

I had the pleasure of experiencing Emily several additional times before my great- grandmother passed away. Each encounter was short, since she was in very high demand, yet long enough to instill valuable lessons. Emily did not have it easy. She was a single mother working a rough job, but she did it. She poured her heart into her children as well as her job, and never seemed to lose her cheerful smile.

What amazes me about our culture is the way people chose their jobs. People spend years upon years and rack up hundreds of thousands of dollars getting an education. Others never make it through high school and find a job that makes them satisfied beyond words. Meeting Emily made me realize that I could make my career all about me and my glory or chose to make it beneficial to those around me.

What about you? What are your motives for pursuing your career?