It is a cliche... A person who plays many roles dons the metaphorical many "hats," but, as one who lives this metaphor, this cliche daily, it certainly seems appropriate with which to begin today's foray into the life of Yvette Hawley. I'd like to say that this entry is inspired by something joyous or comical, but, unfortunately, it is almost the polar opposite. I experienced yet another hairpin turn on the seemingly endless climb that has become the road trip formally known as my simple, ordinary life.
Two weeks ago, I went back to work. I am still teaching, but I also took on a second job, for many reasons, none of which were superseded by our financial struggles. However, instead of applying for work as a teacher or in the field of Education, I decided to go back to my simple roots: food service. I attended orientation, trained for a week and then I was off on my own... one of the things that I discovered on this new journey, no less than an epiphany after my shift yesterday, is that I am no longer the same person that I was at 25, physically and mentally. But, at 44, one of the things that I have learned is that if something is not working, it is okay to let it go and not feel guilty or ashamed or even sad about having to move on. I type that, but honestly, I don't wholly feel that. I don't like to let myself down or, more importantly, I don't like to let others down. I took a job that would be physically challenging but not mentally taxing. I figured I would just go to work, complete my shift and come home; there would be no papers to grade, no lessons to plan and no research to do. Boy was I wrong, well, not on the mentally taxing part, but I have been absolutely exhausted by the endless challenges associated with doing a job that I was not prepared for, again, physically prepared for. What I've realized in the past couple of weeks is that I cannot just take a job to make money; I am now at a stage in my life where I have to choose something that is appropriate for me and the amount of time that I have to give and that includes the time away from my kids and my husband that I would have to sacrifice in order to do that. And so, I have decided to leave this position after only two weeks. No regrets, just the simple understanding that it isn't right for me, in all ways, at this stage of my life.
Donning the proverbial "mom" hat implies many things, none of which are more important than being the caretaker of someone else's well being. Caring for children and helping them grow is a career for which I was wholly unprepared but for which I have also discovered the very best qualities about myself. As I watch them, help them and guide them along their journey, I find that my own travels are that much richer. Nothing surpasses watching your children become healthy, successful and good individuals and my only hope when I wear this hat is that I am doing justice to the role. We shall see...
As a teacher, the hat that I wear has a wide brim with many small ridges. A teacher is a parent, a counselor, a coach, a spiritual advisor, a cheerleader, a psychologist, a salesperson and, like I've said before, a chameleon. Every year is different, every term, every week and with new students coming and going, sometimes it is extremely challenging to get to know them and their needs before it is time to shift into a new semester. I think that is really the most interesting and difficult characteristic of teaching at a community college: the brevity of the terms. It takes me two weeks just to learn their names, another 3 to learn who they are and just as I really get to know them; it is time for finals week. Ironically, I do experience euphoria at the end of the term because I feel like I've fulfilled my promise that I made one day one, that I would help them become better writers, readers and thinkers, yet I am sad to see it end. Maybe as an adjunct faculty member, this rings more true because I don't have the administrative commitments that my full time colleagues do, but maybe it also rings true because teaching is in my blood; it is who I am and it is my personal legend. Thank you Paolo Coelho. As a side note, if you haven't read The Alchemist, do yourself a favor and pick it up.
As a food server, the hat is smaller, tighter, uncomfortable at times, pulling at my head, shifting position and shape, asking me to conform to its size rather than the other way around. Customer service is not a field for everyone; it is demanding and it expects conformity and uniformity without exception. There are standards and if you do not follow those, you are reprimanded on a regular basis, by both superiors and by customers. In this most recent fitting of the hat, I rediscovered something that I'd lost; servers are some of the most loyal, down to earth and welcoming people that I've ever had the opportunity to know. And there is a great deal of sadness associated with the knowledge that I can leave a position like this at any time while many of them will continue to do that job because they have to; it is their livelihood. I feel for them, even after only two weeks. What troubles me the most is that these particular individuals are expected to do the job of three people with pay that does not reflect that. In room dining is a backbreaking service area where the servers work non-stop to deliver an impeccable experience for the guests and simultaneously to adhere to a rigid set of rules and standards that allow very little room for movement. The heart of a resort, the internal workers, work harder than anyone I've ever seen to make a guest's experience unique and wonderful. It is a thankless job, but, for many, it is a job. These people are the ones who wash the laundry and make the meals, who bring you drinks and clean your rooms, they take out the trash and deliver the meals, they pour your champagne and watch your children, they wash the dishes and park your cars and, believe it or not, they really do care about what kind of an experience you have while there. But their pay does not reflect that and, to me, that is shameful. Vacationers spend a lot of money to be pampered and rightfully so, but the people who provide the services are not compensated accordingly, well, maybe except for management. They work 8 hour shifts and they do hard physical labor, most who are paid a minimal wage. They drive hours or take buses to get there and they often have to park far away and take a shuttle in, which adds even more time to their commutes. And they don't complain. With the exception of in room dining, I think the housekeepers are the hardest working people I have ever seen and there are so many components to housekeeping that I never realized. So, I am going to throw in, the next time you save for a vacation, especially at an upscale resort or really, at any hotel, tip your housekeepers MORE than you thought you would and tip the service attendants MORE than you thought you would because most likely that 20% service charge is NOT going to them; more than likely, they are getting about 8% of that which works out to little more than $12 dollars an hour. Do the math, could you live off of that? This is not a diatribe against the resort industry, but when a guest tells me to "Get out and shut the door" I think to myself, it's not really worth $12 an hour. But, I have that luxury, that choice. Most of them don't. So I write this for them; those who warmly welcomed me into the fold, who smile and work hard day after day for not enough money and who are genuinely some of the kindest, nicest people I have ever known. I feel badly for leaving, not because of the job; I will get another job, but because even after only a couple of weeks, I will miss them. It saddens me just to write that.
Life is one big hat rack and sometimes the hats fit and more often, they don't. Sometimes they go out of style and more often, they get discarded in favor of something new, something better. I saw a kid, about 15, the other day, wearing what looked like a Fedora and I smiled thinking that some styles always come back in, regardless of how much time has passed. For me though, some styles are now outdated and don't fit anymore regardless of how much I'd like to don them and, that's okay. For my well worn hats are loved and they have changed me in ways that I never expected, both internally and externally.
I always tell my students that I may not remember their names if they come back to visit, but in some small way they have left an imprint on my heart, on my soul and that is the truth. There are people and experiences in life that expand our capacity to love and every time I try something new or meet a new person, that again rings true. And while this new venture has come to a close, I will hang my food serving hat in the closet with a combination of sadness and relief, knowing that I tried one more time to see if it still fit and realizing that while it may have been outdated and a little tight, that I could still, on some level, wear it proudly. I hope my co-workers felt the same way and I wish them all well.
I think it might be time to try on a new style, maybe a beret or a sombrero and to smile in the process because it may not look right, but the fit may be perfect...
