This semester I have found myself coaching a delightful young woman who is a sophomore at Hope College. We met at a writing retreat I led for Hope women in January. She is an English Major and each time we meet she shares a story on a topic I have assigned her. She is definitely a writer, and I have been blessed by her thoughtful reflections.
Her last assignment was to write a story about some aspect of her "WorkLife." I asked if I could share her story with you. It is a lesson in growing, getting braver, and expanding our comfort zone.
Here is Anna's Story...Enjoy!
Setting: the Work Study job fair in the Dow Center gym. Time: One of Anna's first days on campus. Cast: Anna, the protagonist. Nine hundred other freshmen, all in exactly the same boat as Anna. A large and varied group of staff members at Hope College.
Action.
Twelve or so tables fill one half of the gym. Behind them sit groups of two or three Hope College employees, all from different departments, all eager to hire. The nine hundred freshmen flood into the gym in one mass, sweeping Anna along. The freshmen disperse among the talbes, sitting down to fill out applications. Anna is left alone in the hubbub.
The action continues in a most predictable manner. Anna walks among the tables, aimless, clueless, and not a little overwhelmed. She asses by the CIT department, the biology lab, and the Dining Hall workers. None of the jobs being offered here are appealing. She stops near a table with a slightly larger crowd huddled about it. The name card bears the word LIBRARY. This is right up Anna's alley.
She pushes her way to the front of the crowd (or rather, she stands at the back of the crowd until it dissipates somewhat and leaves a clear path) and takes an application. The woman at the table smiles condescendingly, and informs Anna that they are only hiring a few people this year, and they have already gotten so many applications, but go ahead and fill out the card anyway. Anna does so, though her hopes are rather less than high. What can she do? She turns to leave the insanity of the gym and the job fair.
On her way out she passes by one last table, shoved a bit off to the side and with a decided lack of eager, job-seeking students in front of it. The placard reads PHONATHON.
Ah. That's why there's no one there.
Anna turns to walk past. What the general audience of this tale doesn't know is that Anna has had an only half-joking fear of telephones for many years: ever since her family got caller ID and she realized the anwering machine did a better job of recording phone numbers than she could, and it never forgot to play back a message, and it never misplaced names, and it never messed things up. The fact that this table was connected to such frightening things as telephones and calling and actually, like, talking to people...no thank you,
She turned to walk past...only then she didn't.............................
I think I realized, in the split second I hesitated next to the phonathon table, that there was no way I would get a job in the library. And I needed a job. There were very few people applying for a position, so I had a chance here. I remember thinking, "Oh, what the heck. I'll fill out the application. I can just turn down the job if I get it."
So I applied. I didn't realize until it was too late that they were conducting interviews on the spot. TERROR. The woman was quite kind, however, and the interview went well, though I may or may not have stretched the truth a little bit. I told her about our family's farm and B&B inn, and how I helped with the guests and loved hearing the stories of people from all around the world who came to stay with us, and how I loved the interaction with other people. What I didn't tell her was that I helped from the safety of the kitchen (because washing dishes is important too.) I heard all the stories second-hand from my mom and sister who actually spoke with the guests, and I loved the interactions, yes, but just the ones that involved staying in our side of the house, peering through the crack in the door to see if the guests were awake and ready for breakfast yet.
I got the job, miraculously. I kept it, too, out of desperation for a pay check to help with school loans. I hated every minute of it up until the last month of school my second semester, by which time I had accepted my fate enough to only strongly dislike it. But, nonetheless, this job taught me more that any class I took that entire year. When I came home for the summer several people remarked over how different I was. I no longer had any problems with anwering the phone and taking messages. I wasn't as shy of strangers. I talked more in general (which may or may not have been a good thing, from my family's perspective.) I helped in the B&B more often, and started to really love talking with guests. I began helping serve breakfast and giving them tours of our farm. In short, I got braver and my comfort zone got bigger.
I credit my job with the Phonathon for the majority of the personal growing I did my first year away at school. Working late nights; sitting for hours in a cubicle with a headset on, talking to alumni and parents of students, or, more frequently, listening to the dial tone when they hung up on me; losing two nights' worth of homework time every week...It builds character, as my Daddy would say. Even while I was sitting there with my headset and my stack of phone numbers to call, I knew it was good for me and don't think I would have quit even were it an option...At least, that's what I tell myself now, looking back.
Holly writing again...Her sophmore year Anna worked cleaning the college coffee shop(The Kletz) on the weekends, which she enjoyed, BUT next year she has a job in the Writing Center at the Libray, helping other students with their writing...PERFECT.
God always knows what we need, and His timing is perfect.
Thanks you, Anna!
