Stranger in the Village Narrative

I received condescending perplexed looks on the familiar faces of my father and grandmother as I asked the simple question of where to put the multiple boxes of files. I had entered the gray area of being an employee/daughter. To be accepted in one identity in an environment, and in the same environment, not being accepted as another identity. A way of life I would soon come to know as I had prepared myself to enter the “World of Work”… with my family by my side, literally.

The summer between my sophomore and junior year was to be filled with activities ranging from church retreats to summer softball tournaments, mixed in between were “dog days” working for my family in our business of selling caskets. Although I was worked fairly hard, mentally and physically, there were many bonuses including flexible hours, good pay, etc… all of the things teenagers look for in there quest for a summer job.

About a week after school had let out, I attended work for the first time that summer and as any new employee I was intimidated by the overpowering inter-workings of the companies that my family owned, since I was coming in with seemingly miniscule knowledge. Being my first day on the job, I had infinite questions about where things went, how to enter different items in the computer, etc… Most of them I kept to myself out of pure intimidation, although, there were few tasks I could not proceed on until the questions were asked. When I asked I received answers such as, “Shh…I’m on the phone,” or “I’m busy right now, talk to me in a minute,” and these cold responses were by those who are my family. The reality of it was that my family had always been supportive and helped me in time of need, and in this lonely time, I was shrugged off, soon to be forgotten about.

I was soon assigned to the drudgery of transferring inventory throughout companies, which was an overbearing task for my lack of knowledge. What made this task so tedious was that it was my first day using the mystifying accounting software, and if one made a mistake during the transfer then it was unable to be fixed without a long procedure that I was definitely not able to perform, therefore forcing me to ask yet another question. Why had I become so introverted and shy around my family, the people that I have known since I was born? I finally finished the grueling transfer of inventory and I proudly gave it to my dad to check believing it was the first thing done on my own without any questions asked. The sort of feeling a five year old gets when she presents a painting to her parents to put on the refrigerator overwhelmed me until the cheery face of my dad-who soon shared that same proudness that I had- turned grim with the realization that on top of all of his work, he had to now fix a nearly irrevocable mistake that I had made. The emotion of failure overwhelmed me as disappointment flowed throughout my body. A simple response, “It’s alright, I’ll just do it,” was given to me by my dad, which offered little to no relief of my sense of guilt as my grandma questioned, “What happened?”

Soon to be taken off the job of inventory transfer, I felt relieved until I was informed that I was about to go help out in the warehouse, which houses anywhere between two to three thousand caskets, to help unload a trailer. I figured this would be a good, physical way to get my frustrations out, and maybe even a way to redeem myself with my dad. The task: unloading about 120 caskets at about 150 pounds each. Doing well at this, I worked silently as my dad talked with his other employees, finally hearing a comment towards me, “Be quicker with those carts.” Disappointed, I found myself looking for compliments, or something of that matter to boost my spirits as I plugged away growing more and more weary. Simply seeking approval, I received none of the sort.

After working in the warehouse and performing a few more tasks in the office, finally the day was over. Lasting eleven hours, the grueling day made me start to rethink the idea of working for my family after college. As my grandma, my dad, other employees, and I walked out to our cars, my dad said to me, “You did really well today, better then most of the people we hire on the first day.” A sense of relief suddenly tingled throughout my veins, as another employee commented, “Are you coming back tomorrow, we could really use your help.” Although I declined about coming back the next day, I said I would be there the following day after.

By simply walking out that door, I had switched back into the zone of being myself, the daughter, granddaughter, etc… a position I had been accustomed to. I had gained that support of those who I worked whereas when I was in the office, I was simply just another new employee they had hired, in which they had to train.