| 8:43p |
Ms Myer
I used to have an English teacher in year 9 called Ms Myer. Her name was probably actually Miss Myer, but my high school was extremely politically correct and feminist, so Ms it was. As I was in the height of my brat/class clown stage, Ms Myer used to always say things to me like, "Carla, can you pass these photocopies to Mia...and leave out the attitude." She was one of those teachers who used a combination of hard-core scary yelling with a lot of jokey hey-you're-going-through-puberty friendly vibes. Anyway, the reason why I've been thinking about Ms Myer lately is because I have been giving a lot of attitude to Myer lately, but this time, it's my employer. I've been feeling really bad about it, as well. It all started with a revamp of my work uniform. I usually just wear black pants and a black v-neck t-shirt, but I decided that I needed to make things look a bit more exciting. So I had this new "alternative babe" look going- a black, knee-length skirt with a very zig-zaggy hem, my shimmery purple Docs and a black t-shirt. The old ladies I work with were really supportive of my new look- they kept telling me that I looked really cute, which was so sweet of them! Unfortunately, my business manager Philippe wasn't too fond of my new look. "You look like you are going to go to a partee," he told me. "Shouldn't we be having parties at work, though? Like, you know, fun?" I asked him. He shook his head. After that, I was being pretty slack to him. That was also partly because of this Easter egg thing I'll be doing at work. I've decided to use my design degree and paint people's names on Easter eggs at Myer. Philippe didn't believe that I could do it, so he made me do a sample one. I was quite offended, as hand-generated typography is one of my fortes. On the sample egg, I wanted to write, "Happy Easter, Frodo!" "Who is this Freddo?" Philippe asked me. "You know, Frodo from 'Lord of the Rings'!" He told me I couldn't do that. "What about Berger, or Orane?" I asked him. Those were some of the weird names I'd found in the baby name book at work. "No! You will write 'To Denise...'"
"'From DeNephew'?" I offered, helpfully. "No! You will write, 'To Denise, from Jason."
So anyway, this one day, my sister sent Stargirl sunflowers to my work, which was soooo sweet of her! I was holding the flowers, and Philippe came up to me and pointed at my shoes, because I was still wearing the purple Docs. And because I was already teary from my sister being so nice, I began to get upset about the shoes! He said, "I'm just telling you so that Kim, the store manager, won't say anything to you about them." "Kim doesn't even know my name, so why would he care if I wore purple shoes?" I told Phillipe. I made a big fuss about my right to wear shimmery purple Docs (which actually look quite black if you stand far away), which was also especially important to me as I have just recently embraced my orthotic-wearing status. Then I realised that it wasn't about the shoes at all- what it was about was the fact that I'd been working at Myer for four years, and that the store manager didn't even know my name. It was about how I get really small hours (like, 3 hours a week sometimes), and how the managers never even say "hello" and "thank you". I realised that I'd been taking out a lot of my anger on Philippe by giving him a lot of smart-alecky attitude, and that that was really mean of me. I hadn't been acting with patience, kindness or forgiveness towards him.
So a couple days ago, Philippe came up to me and made me show him my shoes again. I had these plain old saggy black boots on, that give me a bit of a sore back. He was happy that I wasn't wearing the purple Docs, though. And I told him that I was really sorry I made such a fuss about my purple boots, and that I had behaved so immaturely. I told him the real reason why I was so annoyed- that the managers only ever pointed out things that I had done wrong, rather than things that I had done right. He told me that that wasn't true, and that the managers did care about who I was, and that they did appreciate me. "I do admit that I take my staff for granted. But at the end of the day, this is just a job," he told me. And then I remembered what I believed- that nothing is just a job. It doesn't matter where you work or what you do, as long as you do it cheerfully and with all of your heart, and try to make a positive impact on the people around you. There is this lady who works down at the Ali Baba kebab shop in Macquarie Centre who is there pretty much every single day. But she is so funny and nice that I'm sure there's people who go there every day just to see her and chat with her. And I'm sure that, in terms of what really matters, she is far more successful than a highly-strung multi-millionaire CEO of a multinational company. And so I said to Philippe, "But I don't believe that anything is just a job. And I'm disappointed that I feel that way about Myer now. You know, a little 'thank you' goes a long way. I'm sure we'd really appreciate it, and be better workers for it."
It took a lot of guts for me to say that, but I'm really glad that I did. I'd much rather fix a problem than gossip about it behind someone's back. And lately, Philippe has been a lot nicer to me, and has been smiling more. One of the other managers even came up to me yesterday and asked me what I had studied at uni. That really meant a lot to me, that someone took the time out of their day to say hello and to show that they cared about me. I'm still trying to find another job that isn't too design related, but I'm glad that I have some positive influence where I am now. |