My old co-worker Kristy and I often discussed how we needed to write a book about our experiences working in residence life at a residential high school, because so much of what we go through is a combination of hilarious and unbelievable. I used NaNoWriMo to start chronicling my years working at LSMSA; with names mostly changed and my place of work renamed to Lots of Letters School for Smart Kids (LOLSSK) I scratched the surface of telling my story by writing just over 50,000 words in November.
Graduation is on May 21 this year, and I am regularly reminded of how quickly my time at a place that has become extremely important to me is drawing to a close. I plan to post several times next week about different aspects of what the first job of my career has meant to me and what I will miss as I move forward in the future. (Someday, I'll get back to more Rodan + Fields-related blogging, but right now there is a lot of time-sensitive stuff going on in my personal life that I feel like writing about.)
Last night, I opened my novel file for the first time since November 30 (one of the mantras for NaNoWriMo is "Editing is for December!"...nobody specifies which December, though) and read the first few pages. After some light edits, I am posting it here as a teaser for next week. As it turns out, other than some name changes, the first pages of my NaNoWriMo novel describe how I ended up in Dirty Natty pretty thoroughly.
Enjoy!
2010
Offer and Acceptance
I went to the Lots of Letters School for Smart Kids
(LOLSSK) because I wasn't really sure
what to do, and it seemed like it would be better for my career and my life
than moving home would be. I graduated from college at a time when jobs were
difficult to come by, or at least the types of jobs that my peers and I -
wide-eyed in our early twenties - wanted were tough to come by. We had started
college a few years earlier with the idea that if we earned a degree, a $50,000
job in the city, state, or country of our dreams would be waiting on the other
side. In fact, $50,000 was just the beginning.
I had also grown up in a time where people told me I could do
whatever I want with my life. And while I recognize that is true, what people
don't always tell you is that you might not get the direct route to doing what
you want. That was the case with me as I graduated from college with a
bachelor's degree...and seven rejection letters from assorted medical schools.
Since medical school had almost always been my plan, I wasn't
sure what to do next other than act defeated. On the last day of my
undergraduate classes, I came home and crashed in my bed. I had about a week of
finals to go before I was on my own in the world with my bachelor's degree and
the contents of my room.
And by out in the world, I mean unemployed and living with my
parents. In 2010, moving home after college and living with one's parents did
not have the stigma it once had because everyone else was doing it too. In
retrospect, I don't know what I was so worried about.
Fortunately, my friend Darrell, a flamboyant fraternity consultant preparing to start a graduate degree in Higher Education and Student Affairs, was on campus that day and wanted to see me as I was wrapping up my college career. In my overwhelmed state, Darrell pointed out that between my experience as a sorority member and a resident assistant, I had a decent resume to become a young student affairs professional myself. If nothing else, I could work in student affairs while I reapplied to medical school. Oh, and there was the whole bit about liking student affairs and being pretty good at it. In the search for vocation, those are two pretty important qualities as well.
“I don't have a Master's Degree,” I whined at the suggestion.
“Don't those jobs require a Master's?”
“Not all of them,” Darrell said cheerfully. “Let's see what
we can find!”
After he pulled me away from my bed where I was huddled up
under some blankets, Darrell and I started looking for jobs to which I could
apply. Just from one website, he was able to quickly pull eight positions for
me. He pasted the job descriptions into a word document and instructed me to
apply for all of the jobs before the weekend ended.
So I did.
I started rounding up recommendations and pasting my last
five years of job experience – quite the task for someone who worked several
small jobs throughout college – and the next week, I received an e-mail from
Brittany Berry, the Director of Student Services at the LOLSSK. She wanted to
interview me for a position as Not a Dorm Mom (NDM), which would entail me
overseeing a floor of approximately forty high school girls. It was sort of
like my job as a Resident Assistant (RA) in college, except that I would be
legally responsible for those people. And they were high school students. So it
was really like being a parent to people who weren't much younger than I was.
Even though I had referred to the school as the LOLSKS in my cover letter
(rookie mistake!) Brittany was interested. I guess my past experience looked
good and relevant. We set up a time to talk, and I did my best to prepare for
the interview.
When I had searched for positions earlier in the semester, I
took my phone interviews seriously. I put on a suit and high heels and faced a
wall so there was nothing to distract me as I talked through the interview and
made notes of important facts I might want to reference when I wrote my thank
you notes later – the hand-written ones I would mail as well as the e-mail note
that would follow shortly after my interview.
On this day, I wore my baggiest pajamas, didn't bother to put on a bra,
and loaded up my virtual farm game on my laptop while I waited for Brittany's
phone call. She asked me questions about communication with my residents and
co-workers, and we talked about programs I had done as an RA. She told me more
about LOLSSK and what my job would entail if I came to work as a NDM. Just as I
had done in my earlier interviews, I made notes of what to touch on when I
wrote a thank you note. At the end of the interview, I asked questions – some
that I actually didn't know, and some that I asked because I know you're
supposed to ask questions in these interviews.
A few days later, I received an e-mail from Yvonne Byars, who
was the Head Dorm Boss (HDB) and would be my direct supervisor if I worked as an NDM. We set up an interview for Sunday, which she forgot, so we rescheduled for
Tuesday. I had an in-person interview at a family-owned insurance company –
remember, my peers and I were willing to do anything for a job with benefits –
earlier that day, so I did my phone interview with Yvonne in the driver's seat
of my car at a Taco Mac restaurant where I would be meeting Darrell for dinner.
My interview with Yvonne went pretty well, but I could tell things were getting
serious when she asked me questions about what I would do to find private time
for myself while living at my job and among my students. Yvonne flat out told
me that the facilities were old and had their issues, and I calmly responded
that I had spent several years in college living in old buildings, so I was
used to it. When she asked if I had any questions at the end of the interview,
I told her that I thought Brittany had answered my questions but asked if I
could e-mail her if I thought of anything. She said that would be fine.
Over beers, Darrell enthusiastically inquired about my life
over the past few weeks, and I discussed my progress in the job search. I told
him I felt confident about both of my interviews that day. When I told him I
had not asked any questions in my last interview, however, Darrell started
flipping out. “You have to ask questions!” he exclaimed.
So when I e-mailed my thank you note to Yvonne, I also included some questions about operations of the building. She wrote me back with answers, and a few days later, I received the call from Brittany offering me the NDM position. If I wanted to, could move a few states away and be part of the LOLSSK family.
I told her I needed a few days to think, but what I really
meant is that I wanted to hear back from the insurance company. I had
really liked the people at the insurance company, and it seemed like a place
with good values. If I couldn't go to medical school, I at least wanted to work
somewhere that would treat me the way I thought I deserved to be treated. She
asked me how long I needed, and I said a few days.
After the offer call, I told just about anyone who would
listen that I had a legitimate employment option. In a conversation with
Stefan, my university's Director of Residence Life, I told him I was waiting to
hear back from an insurance company, and he remarked that I could work in
insurance whenever I wanted, but this was the kind of job to take when I was
young and could still do it. So, I went in an empty office, called Brittany
back, and accepted the job. A few hours later, I received the call that the
insurance company had gone with another candidate. Even though it didn't feel
good to hear that – I really struggle with rejection – it seemed like things
were falling into place.
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