I don't know what's gotten into me since I was emancipated.*
(Actually I do. It's Jesus.<*grin*>)
Some strange, comfortable confidence has taken over.
Back in the day, I used to approach interviews in a rather genuflect manner. I might as well have been saying...
"Lawd a-mercy. Massa, I's wundrin' if yuh could fin' it in yo' big ol' heart to lemme work fo' yuh."But since last week, it's been...
"Hello. Your advertisement piqued my interest. I think I could make a great contribution to your organization. Let's chat."And for the first time in my life, this quiet sense of calm goes beyond my resume and cover letter. I feel it inside. Deeply.
Mi madre likes to remind me that interviewing is a two-way transaction. An employer may ask the bulk of the questions. Yet you, as the interviewee, are assessing your employer.
(Thoughts after Interview #2)
"...assessing your employer."
Ain't that the truth. I just came from my second interview--Interview #4, if you consider that it's the fourth one I've had since last week--and I don't think I belong there at all.
One thing I've come to despise in interviews is when the interviewers take it upon themselves to play "bad cop" and get on with an air of arrogance, as if to say, "I'm not sure you're good enough...I'm not sure you're right for us."
Last week, Interviewer #1 had the temerity to tell me that she was concerned about whether or not I had sufficient experience. The job I'd applied for was not beyond my range of skill.
Regarding today and Interview #4...My interviewers kept harping on the fact that I haven't taught younger kids. Truth be told, save for one day's work, I don't have experience with children under the age of 12. Mind you, I could have been a dishonest reprobate and said, "Well...There was this one time..." But what would've been the point?
What has me incensed right now is that with his colleauge standing by, Gentleman Interviewer said to me,"You could have started working with young kids from the age of 15 or 16 at summer camp."
Now...He did his best to sound polite. But plus or minus 1 or 2 words, that's what Mr. Interviewer told me. And he said it as though he honestly thought there was something wrong with me for not having had a summer camp job.
No offense to any of you who spent your adolescent summers stoking fires at Camp Kokatemagamite. But...
When I was a teenager, I was even more of a loner than I am now. I barely knew or cared that summer camps existed. Never mind thinking about working at one.
Which is neither here nor there right now.
I'll close with this statement:
Dear Future Employer,
Let me explain myself. I am not arrogant. I am confident. I am educated. I am passionate and ambitious. I am well aware that teaching is a stressful, challenging profession.
Yet with all due respect, it is NOT rocket science.
If you're going to treat me as a competent professional, rest assured, your courtesy is appreciated.
If, however, during an interview, you feel compelled to act as though I need a PhD in Klingon phonology in order to get by, then really. Let's not waste each other's time.
Sincerely,
Me
*Last Tuesday, my employer and I parted ways. Don't feel bad. It was a terrible fit. I wanted to quit, but couldn't find the words. Thankfully, God took one look at me and said, "Let's stop this foolishness RIGHT NOW." And by foolishness, I mean BS.
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