Aloha GOP,
At the onset of creating this blog, my
initial intent was to journal every day.
I forgot that there are days that I simply cannot function and therefore
have been skipping daily entries to combat depression.
Often, I have stated to family and close friends that except for the
inability to secure stable employment, my life is otherwise exceptional. That remains my truth, but also makes the
point about the emotional impact of not working.
Pounding the pavement in search of
work can be exhilarating, and makes me hopeful that at some point my quality of
life will improve. However, multiple
rejections and disappointments take a toll at some point. Very often lately, I feel like I’m in a pair
of cement shoes, stuck on a busy street watching others live full and
productive lives.
In my quiet, darker moments, I try to
make sense of some workplace experiences that have left me confused and
wondering when my world changed. I was
recently reminded of my very first interview upon returning home ten years
ago. Thinking myself highly qualified for
many opportunities, I signed up with an employment agency and was promptly
dispatched to a local mid-sized law firm.
I took special care to dress professionally, wearing a conservative, coordinated
pants suit with very expensive shoes. Just
before entering the building, I spotted a tiare bush, and mindlessly plucked a tiny,
sweet-smelling flower and customarily placed it over my ear. My
confidence was soaring and I was extremely optimistic as I exited the elevator and approached the designated office.
Upon meeting my interviewer I
performed the usual office rituals; i.e., smile, firm handshake, etc. Then the interview commenced. My interviewer never engaged, did not refer
to my resume or my skills and experience, then abruptly concluded our meeting with, “Thanks for coming.” I was then quickly
shuffled outta there. I descended on the
same elevator, however my confidence had evaporated and confusion overwhelmed
me instead. I specifically remember looking at my reflection in the elevator mirror, and asking myself, “What just
happened?”
The representative at the employment
agency contacted me shortly thereafter and “chastised” me for wearing pants and
a flower to an interview. Quelle horreur!! I responded that I moved home so I could wear flowers in both ears, a common practice in
offices all over Honolulu. I also stated
that being 6 feet tall, I am more comfortable in slacks – nice, expensive
slacks worn in offices all over the world!
How could this individual, a “human” resources professional, be so
distracted from my qualifications by a tiny, white, sweet-smelling flower? In Hawaii? It was much later that I recalled that my interviewer was wearing CAPRIS! Much later because that wasn't my focus during our meeting.
