Instructions: ...write a short essay describing an event or occasion where you went from being a passive observer to an active participant. Discuss how this shift affected the way you experienced the event.
“Well, the good news is that you’re hired.”
That was immediately after I expressed interest in the job.
A couple of months after, I’d find myself among the ranks of the most hated department on campus: Information Technology. In those ranks, I’m at the front line: the Service Desk—otherwise known as the group of people whose phone number is plastered all over campus in the event that students need any kind of tech support.
On that first day, I was seated next to Brady, one of the senior members of the Desk. We both put on headsets and I listened to the conversations he was having with clients. Between calls, he would give impromptu tutorials on how to navigate all of our web systems, be it Peoplesoft, Blackboard, or Outlook. Not once did I feel confused and threatened. I felt relaxed, ready, and willing to learn.
Fast forward to a week later. All I’ve learned about doing my job was taught to me through listening to my coworkers’ calls. This time, I’m off the hook. No longer can I envelop myself in the comforting safety net of job shadowing—this was the real deal. Casual conversation with coworkers was cut short by the shrill ringing of a phone. My phone. I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and pressed the “talk” button.
“I.T. Service Desk, this is Darin. How may I help you?”
“Yeah, um, I need to log in to access my W2 form and I can’t do that.”
I thought, “Okay, all I need to do is reset her password and she’s good to go,” so I did exactly that. Child’s play. She tried logging in once more… no dice. My heart skipped a beat. If she’s not able to log in, she should after her password is reset, right? My palms got clammy as I asked her if she had Caps Lock on. She didn’t. A single sweat breaks free from my pores, followed by another, and another.
I wasn’t trained for this.
I asked the woman to hold as my panicking escalated. Just my luck, a whole week of training and I can barely walk on my own two feet. Surely I’ll get fired as quickly as I got hired. “This can’t be happening,” I desperately mumbled. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this. Maybe I should’ve worked for the dining halls. Maybe I should’ve-
My internal monologue screeched to a halt as Brady put his arm on my shoulder. “Go to Footprints. There’s a work order for people who can’t log into My Personal Information.” As I let Brady’s words sink in, I felt the steam escaping my body. The storm in my mind has passed. I could see clearly now. I couldn’t believe it. After all that worrying, he comes and whisks it away. For that, I’m grateful. Perhaps, in a year or two, I’ll see a struggling coworker panicking on the phone. I’ll walk up to them, and rest my hand on their shoulder.
“Trust me. I’ve been there.”
