my why

My why.

The new semester begins on campus tomorrow and Saturday there was an employee orientation. I was asked to help out. As I could wear my jeans and sandals, I was good to go. Lots of new associates have come on board and it’s always good to review safety and attendance policies with everyone.

The opening was about “my why”. What motivated the speaker, our manager, to get up everyday and do the best job he could. He showed a short video of Eric Thomas. I was very moved by Mr. Thomas’ manner of speaking, his Chicago connection, and his parallels to lions and gazelles and one’s attitude.

When our manager was finished speaking, he invited those of us that wanted to share their my whys, to please do so. I listened to a couple, and then raised my hand. (I am terrified of public speaking. I have no idea how I got an A in HS debate class!)

I started by saying I hoped I could get through this without crying. Which made a few people tear up. But I told my story. That I had no family to work for. But that I came from a long history of strong and independent women. I told of how my great-grandmother was an immigrant. The youngest of six children to leave Sweden.

I told of her daughter, my grandma, who divorced her no good, two-timing husband when my mother was an infant. Back when no one got divorced. At least not people like us. I told how she worked for Illinois Bell for forty-three years, starting as a switchboard operator and finishing as a supervisor.

I said my why was working to honour them. To honour their memory, to honour the upbringing they gave me. My why was also to honour my son. So he’d be proud of his mom wherever he was.

I finished by saying how much I loved my job and enjoyed working with everyone but I could barely get that out as it was too hard while trying to hold back my tears.

But I got through it. A few women came up to me to say how much my story had touched them. New employees which I haven’t had the pleasure of knowing too long. My manager texted me to thank me for sharing.

I felt drained on the bus ride home, and was on autopilot in the grocers, buying some fruit. I went to bed early and when I awoke, resolved to write this.

You never know where you will find motivation. Or how you will be inspired. Speaking my truth was empowering and it opened the door to other emotions. I’ve always felt very fortunate to have this job. To be employed by this company. But Saturday was the first time I felt I was truly home. I really do like my coworkers. Not all day long, everyday, but overall, they’re a wonderful collection of personalities. And as much as I think the term is overused, I do, indeed, feel truly blessed.

P.S. NEVER underestimate the importance of hearing thank you from a coworker or manager! I worked for a very long time and never heard that except in the yearly personalised Christmas card.

not my family
part of my mystery photo project
©Trish Korous