This is my final essay of 2024. I’ll resume posting new essays on January 6.
Over the weekend, as I sat in a local coffee shop, I observed a young man who was obviously new on the job. And over the course of about 30 minutes, I started to experience what must have been going through his mind as he tried––with limited success––to navigate the tasks and duties for which he’d been hired. I simply dubbed him (in my mind) “The New Guy.”
*****
He’s confused and his movements are slow and choppy. Not surprisingly, he looks lost doing even the most basic things, even simple tasks that have nothing to do with the job.
This is a dance, he knows that, and he knew it when he started just a few days ago; a dance “they” have already learned and mastered; one that has him feeling like he has two left feet.
Everything he sees in front of him, and all the terminology and jargon he’s hearing, has already been presented to him in his training. And back then (last week), sitting at a table reading manuals and watching videos, it all made sense to him. But now it’s the real thing. There are expectations. Everything is on the line. There’s no “rewind” or re-reading he can do in the moment.
His teammates are patient and helpful, but that doesn’t calm his nerves. In some ways, it makes the whole situation worse because he doesn’t want to be a burden to them. And nerves cause hesitation. And hesitation causes indecision, which causes mistakes, or at least breaks the flow of the dance not only for him, but for all of them.
That makes him feel guilty for having to constantly ask for help, or to apologize for being too slow or not knowing where to find things.
“They know everything, and I should too,” he thinks to himself as he sees them going from one task to the next, smoothly and effortlessly, chatting among themselves as though the work was so easy they could do it in their sleep.
And here he is, forced to consider his every move and think about what he’s doing at every turn. He knows this will all take time, and it will get easier. But he wants to be smooth and steady––and like them––right now, not in a week or a month.
When he took this job, he was excited, and from the other side of it all––as a customer––it looked fun and easy, and his friend and co-worker told him as much. But she’s not working this morning, so he feels isolated from the dance and the banter and the laughter.
And now, just 30 minutes into his first real shift (probably his second or third overall), he feels like a liability. He wants to walk out, go home, be comfortable, and not be a burden on his new team or the customers.
He just wants to be in a place where he isn’t the “new guy.”
A demanding customer in a hurry (for no apparent reason) approaches. He remains calm on the outside, but his heart races. The customer talks fast and loudly, with a brusque demeanor, the words coming at him faster than his brain can process them.
At first, he tries to decode what his customer is saying, but after a moment, he relents and asks an associate for assistance. A young co-worker breezes over and handles the situation for him in seconds. He thanks her and then apologizes to the customer, who brushes him off as though he no longer exists.
After the customer leaves, his co-worker reassures him and then sets him off on another task; one befitting the “new guy.” He disappears into the back of the store, emerging with a large box. He comes out from behind the counter and begins stocking the shelf with canned drinks, making sure all the labels are pointing front and center, perfectly displayed. A small victory, but isn’t that what life is about … all the small wins we can accumulate in a day?
Behind him, the rest of the team continues to dance through their shift; old pros who know every move and who can anticipate and deal with every contingency. Half of him wants to be in that dance; half wants to give up.
But he won’t. Instead, he’ll finish this shift and come back for his next, and the one after that, and so on. And soon, maybe not as soon as he’d like but soon enough, he’ll be laughing and talking and dancing just like the rest of them.
I know it and his teammates know it. I just wish he knew it right now.
*****
We’ve all been there; in the physical and mental space of being the new person on the job. Trying to fit in, wondering what the others think of us, if it will get easier, or if we’ll be able to “cut the mustard.”
As a customer, whenever I see someone who’s new on the job, I try to give them a little extra grace.
I guess what I’m trying to say is this: We’re all the “new guy” at different points in our lives. So, when we come upon someone who’s new or trying to learn, take a breath (preferably not an audible sigh), and give them some grace, a friendly smile, and a sincere thank you.
Because we’ve all danced in their shoes at one point or another.
© 2024 David R. Haznaw
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