Voices From The Neighborhood
There were times when I would sit at my desk and feel—well, unproductive. On those days, I would tell my boss, “I need you to tell me what you absolutely, positively need me to accomplish today because while I’m here physically, mentally, I’ve checked out.” My boss wasn’t shy about calling me a “brat.” I told her it was her fault for choosing me as her assistant.
I still remember the day we met at a local restaurant. I interviewed her just as much as she interviewed me.
Her: “What do you know about the community?”
Me: “It’s the most diverse and most densely populated neighborhood within five counties. What are some of the biggest challenges someone in this position has faced before?”
Her: “It’s a new position—you’d be the first at it. The bar is pretty low. Only you can decide how high to set it. What experience do you have working with communities, especially those we serve?”
Me: “I was born and raised in communities like this one. I know the people and their stories. What are the expectations around evening and weekend work?”
Her: “I’ll be honest, there will be evening and weekend work—not every week, but a few times a month. Will that be a problem?”
I thought about it. I had a little girl at home with an awesome husband who took great care of us. I knew that if I told him I’d have to work some evenings and weekends, he would support me.
Me: “Not a problem.”
That’s how we went back and forth for at least an hour. In the end, we both agreed we were a good fit for each other.
By the time I got back to my desk at the state job I was slowly growing to despise, I had a missed call. It was the boss telling me I could start in two weeks.
I started singing my “Goodbye State Job” theme song:
“I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again…”
Yeah, I know that song came out before I was born, but it was exactly the song I needed to motivate myself to say ADIOS to the state!
