My great-grandmother passed away last week. I took an impromptu trip to Savannah on Sunday and Monday for the viewing and funeral.

It was great seeing some family members I hadn't seen in nearly a decade, as well as some I'd just met for the first time about two months ago at my aunt's family reunion. My cousin who is the same age as me has a three year old daughter, and it was great to meet her and see them interact. My cousin who is two years younger than me and I interacted in a way that was just the same but different than when we were kids--we played a game together and watched a movie. When we were 14 and 12 (the last time we saw each other), this was Grand Theft Auto and Harry Potter. This time around it was chess on his iPhone and The Hunger Games. He didn't mention anything about it, but I heard through the family grapevine that he is going to be a father soon. This blows my mind.

But I think the most fascinating part of this whole experience is this: 

Things I did not cry at: my great-grandmother's funeral.

Things I cried at: the sympathy card some of my coworkers got me because she passed.

...I'm not sure what this says about me as a person.  

So last night/this morning, I finally caught up on a webseries I've had bookmarked for ages.

It's called The Unwritten Rules (that's a link to the first episode), and it's about this Black female Brown graduate who starts at a new job where she's the only Black girl. In fact, only Black person. In fact, only person of (visible) color. 

I don't know if I've made it clear on here that, while I'm far from the only one, I'm one of few in my workplace of 300+. That becomes one of very few if you discount the secretarial staff, Copy Room and Mail Room employees, security staff, etc. I'm both the only Black person under age 30 and the only Black female in my division. 

And I mean, those of you who have a good understanding of my history know that being a rarity is far from unusual for me, which is probably why I haven't really mentioned it. I've made fast fantastic friends at work--the young people in my division and recent hires in other divisions are seriously awesome people, and they're just one part of what makes my job le awesomest.

I get compliments on my various hairstyles, but no one has ever asked to touch my hair. I've never eaten Black ethnic food at work (when RG's mom gave me leftover fried chicken, plantains, and chilli, I decided to bring the chilli to work and eat the chicken and plantains at home, lol), so all of my "Mmm that smells good" instances aren't particularly egregious for any reason. I'm sure that once it gets colder and I start making mac and cheese, that's gonna get some attention, though. And my Nana's pies? PLEASE. The episode that really got me, though, is number 5, in which Racey (yes her name is Racey, which I just adore) tries and fails to bond with the other Black people who work in her building (in security and at the front desk, while she's some sort of manager). Their playing of dominoes (which I didn't learn were a Black thing until recently, actually) and her eating of asparagus don't really mix well...   

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed that I haven't really become close to any other Black people at work (though that's starting to change with the guy closest to my age in my division). Granted, most of them are considerably older than me, but still something seems...off. When I see a Black person I don't recognize at work, I will go out of my way to introduce myself to her. Like on campus, I don't pass a Black person in the office without acknowledging him or her in some way. But it occurred to me that I only know the name of about four Black people outside of my division. I know the others by face, know them enough to wave and ask how their weekends were, but I do not substantively know them in any way. There are small clusters of Black employees who regularly eat lunch together, and I don't eat with them. Granted, I've never been invited. But on the other hand, I've never asked either. 

I want to make more legitimate attempts at forming friendly acquaintanceships with other Black people in my office. Like, the next time I see a cluster eating or chatting, instead of just waving as I walk by, I'm going to wander over and chat for a little while. #babystepstonotfeelingliketheonlypocinmydailyworld  

The best job interview ever

So I might have mentioned that I was going to DC yesterday for an interview that I was really nervous about. I was so nervous because my interview had its own schedule that was four hours and fifteen minutes long and involved meeting eleven different people--where they do that at?! And I was going to have to get up at 5 in the damn morning to catch a 6:28 Dinky to make a 7am Amtrak and none of this sounded like it was going to be fun.

Oh, how wrong I was. I may have had more fun at that interview than I would have between the hours of 11am and 3:15pm on campus. Let me explain:

First off, omg Amtrak has wi-fi. I was totally tweeting and catching up on Facebook and whatnot while I was on the train...before I got a good hour and a half nap in, because did I mention it was 7 in the damn morning? haha And the train was running late, but that just meant more naptime so I wasn't really complaining.


I grabbed a muffin and some delicious hot chocolate from a place in Union Station and then set off to find the place I was interviewing. It was only a 5 block walk from the station, so I wasn't about to pay for a cab, and I got turned around a little in the beginning, but figured that out quickly and made it to the building with 10 minutes to spare. Step one, check.


So, the first person I was meeting with was a woman who had phone-screened me back in December. She was just as friendly in person as she was on the phone, and just went over a bunch of stuff we'd talked about before and told me some more about the benefits of the position and the work climate and whatnot. We finished talking with a few minutes to spare and she let me finish eating the muffin I was too busy wandering around trying to find the office to munch on. I asked what makes that particular policy research company different from its peers as my "Do you have any questions?" question, and her first response was, "That's a good question," which made me feel like she was a little bit impressed.  Best thing about her: she asked me again what my minimum salary requirement would be and I didn't know what to say again, so I was saying thirtyyyyyyyyyyyfive? And she cut me off and said that "the salary for this position is in the 40s." (woot!) And then she walked me to someone else named K's office. 


K was a senior researcher in the survey department and worked on a lot of really cool projects, including the National Survey of Recent College Graduates, which of course fascinates me. And we were joined by T, who phoned in because she was working from home that day because her kids' schools had a 3 hour delay due to an ice storm or something. (And even though I'm not a family-oriented person AND I'm not planning to stay wherever I get a job for any longer than 3 years at the most, I took note of the fact that she could work from home and that that seemed perfectly fine. It means the company as a whole takes the work-life balance very seriously and recognizes that its employees are people.) And T majored in Sociology for her undergrad work so we talked about that for a while, and she sounded young-ish and bright and bubbly. I liked talking with her a lot. 


After that half-hour block, I went on to meet TB and L. TB would be my direct supervisor if I got the position, and he started off in that very position right out of undergrad and worked his way up, so he was a great person to talk to about both the position itself and growth/development as an employee of the company. By the time L asked me to talk about my JP, I'd pretty much refined my little speech about it, and she seemed genuinely interested in my findings, whereas T had seemed more interested in how I like, had measured things and what I'm doing differently in my thesis survey because of my JP survey. TB and L both work in K-3 education primarily, and were telling me some of the other cool things associates get to do besides work on surveys, like go on site-visits to school districts and do classroom observations and stuff. 


Then it was off to D and J, who both work primarily in Health. They both told me a little about the projects they're working on, and then J asked for my spheel and seemed to like what I said about my JP. When I was done, she said she was going to ask why I decided to major in sociology, but that she could tell by the way I'd answered the previous question that I'm really passionate about it. (+2 for me) D asked me questions about time management and working in teams and being involved in lots of things at once and said what she was most impressed by was all of the leadership roles I've had, so I talked a little bit about balancing different kinds of work and showed how I can take the initiative by talking about having gone from never having acted in my life to being on the BAC|Drama board, writing and co-writing two one-acts, and directing two one-acts in the course of a semester. 


Then E, KM, and JB came to take me to lunch. KM and JB both hold the position I'm applying for, and E had just been promoted to the next level up from that position. They were SO MUCH FUN and seem like they'd be really fly coworkers. They seemed really interested in my thesis and offered their opinions based on the various schools that they'd gone to (Northwestern, Dartmouth, and...I'm not sure where JB went.) They were telling me about how they've been involved in various projects--E just got to go to Africa for three weeks in August for something work related, how cool is that?!--and how they like TB and the company overall. They all had great things to say, even when I told them to be real with me. And they were telling me about how fabulous a city DC is and how it doesn't feel overwhelmingly large like NY but is still full of stuff to do and lots of free stuff (who doesn't love free stuff?). And they were saying the company has a really social atmosphere, both professionally because everyone goes by their first name regardless of their position and everyone's door is always open for questions/advice, and personally in terms of there's a softball team, an ultimate frisbee team, an a capella group, a gym on the premises, parties when projects are finished, holiday parties, they go out to happy hour together a lot. And OH MY WORD I had the absolute best macaroni and cheese of my life. It was a good southern-style baked mac with shrimp baked in. E ordered it first and it just sounded so good when he was saying it that I instantly switched from what I was originally intending to order, and that was the best decision of my day, because it was orgasmic. We had to fist bump at the awesomeness of our meal (and later at our love of Waffle House) and kept talking about how good it was to the point that KM and JB wanted to taste. (Restaurant was called The Watershed, if anyone in the DC area wants to check it out. On First St. NE, about 6 or so blocks from Union Station.) 


After lunch they took me to meet D, the Director of the department I'd be working for, and within two minutes of me being in her office, she was telling me how fascinated she was by my writing sample (an excerpt of my junior independent work) and asking if what she had was the whole thing or would she be disappointed when she got to the end. I told her it was just an excerpt and she leaped up to get me one of her business cards so I could email her the entire thing, and she was saying how a) she was interested because she does a lot of work with college-aged students and b) it's more well-written than any writing samples she's seen in a long time, and writing isn't usually such a strong suit of their applicants. (+100 for me) We talked a little bit about how my day had gone so far and I told her how surprised I was that I'd been enjoying the entire thing, and then she asked more about my interest in the company and my future plans and yada yada a lot of the same stuff other people had talked about. Then she explained what happens from here: they've done this four hour interview with a few candidates, and then they'll have a big group meeting with everyone on the interview team to talk about how people vibed with the candidates and who has the skills they're looking for, and when they make a decision Human Resources will reach out to the lucky candidate.


And then the woman from Human Resources who had met me first met me again, and gave me a big packet full of information about various benefits, took my receipts from my train tickets so that I can be reimbursed (in 2-3 weeks, not cute for broke college students, haha), and sent me on my way. I unfortunately didn't get to see Pariah because everything went right according to schedule rather than ending early, but still I didn't know it was possible to enjoy yourself during an interview like this. 


I want this job. I want it so bad(ly). So keep your fingers crossed for me, please!

An open letter to consulting firms:

Dear Mr. YouObviouslyDon'tKnowWhoYou'veJustEmailed, 

I know that I'm supposed to thank you for considering me as a potential candidate for this opening at your firm, but I actually find it a bit insulting, and don't have the patience, energy, or even desire to pretend otherwise. You've sent me a lot of emails and even had the nerve to leave a folder full of information about yourself in front of my door [side note: you looked up where I live? Does that entitle me to file a restraining order?], and I think this whole gig is just getting out of hand. My previous strategy of ignoring you in hopes that you'll go away is failing miserably, and so I have resorted to being up front and direct with you. Consulting firms are supposed to like aggressive tactics, right?

I'm going to say this slowly and clearly so that there is no way you may possibly misinterpret this next bit: I am never going to work for you. Never. Ever. No matter how many emails you send me or information sessions you invite me to. It's not going to happen. 

No, I won't even consider it. Why? You really have the nerve to ask me why? Oh, I don't know, maybe because everything being a lower-middle-class Black female afro-wearing sociologist has made me is fundamentally against working for you. In case you are unaware, you are "The Man," and not in a high-five inducing way.

I am writing this letter to you today to ask you, with all the politeness I can muster, to please do us both a favor and stop wasting your time and, more importantly, mine. It's just plain rude that I have to go through and systematically delete half the emails in my inbox every morning. We can both be more productive than that, can't we? (I'm going to start by getting more familiar with Gmail's filter-by-word-and-send-straight-to-trash feature.)

Thank you, and have an enlightening day! 

Maya 

Reblogged from Treasured Tresses

 

My little babies are all grown up!!

My little brother and sister crossed an important threshold yesterday evening. They went to orientation at their very first jobs, becoming working people for the first time. They applied together off a tip from a mutual friend, got hired together, and soon they will each don versions of this hat:

and start making french fries or flipping burgers or taking people's orders or whatever it is they'll do. 
This confirms it, ladies and gents, the kids aren't kids anymore. They are now full-fledged working teenagers who will have to start paying taxes and, if my mother is still my mother, buying their own clothes, lunches, etc. I've known that they were on the job hunt for a while, but I guess I didn't really expect anything to come of it. Maybe for my sister, she's older and more mature. But my brother, despite being sixteen, sometimes acts like he's still ten or so. [Then again, no matter how old we get, I suppose all of us still occasionally act like we're ten or so. Hence the whole saying, "Act your age, not your shoe size," right? Haha, I remember when I was in fourth grade, my age and my shoe size were the same number and I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. Anyway.] I suppose it's time to accept the fact that they're almost grown now. 
It's really weird how people just keep getting older when you're not around them. Time just keeps passing and doesn't give a damn that you're missing it, you know? When I left for school, they were 13 and 14, just barely getting settled into being teenagers. My sister had been in high school for about two weeks. And now the fact that she's about to be a senior in high school freaks me out almost as much as the fact that I'm about to be a senior in college. Part of me wants to say she's not old enough to be a senior, just like part of me wants to say they're not old enough for jobs. But they are. They keep growing and developing without my guidance and have become full-grown people in my absence. 
I try to be the voice of reason when they're doing stupid shit. I try to talk to them about things during the short bursts of time that I am home. But I have to accept that the era of me really directly influencing much in their daily lives is over. They are who they are. I'm not going to stop advising, but I am going to stop acting like they have to listen to me. 
I think this job will be good for them, though, because they will have a BOSS. My little sister is prone to thinking she is the boss in every situation, because she's a bitch and she can be real violent. But now she will have someone she has to answer to; they both will. They will both have clearly delineated responsibilities and tasks that they will be punished if they don't complete well. They will have to work together and be a team without fussing and fighting. I'm hoping they'll even interact with some lifetime McDonalds employees like I interacted with lifetime Wawa employees and understand why I push them so hard in school. Anyway, I think having a job will simultaneously make them feel grown up and remind them that they are not, in fact, grown, and I think that combination is a good thing for them. I'll never forget the feeling of that first paycheck (they need bank accounts) and buying the first thing that I earned; I'm excited for them to have that. If they pull this off and stay working people, I'll be really proud.
I can't wait to go visit them at work when I get home and bug them. It's going to be great. 

On the Road Back to a Scholarly Attitude

The conversation addressed in the previous post helped remind me why the work I want to do is important. This quote just posted by a friend on Facebook makes me want to get to it. 

2nd 30 Day Letter Challenge--Day 11: Letter to your Future Employer

Dear ___________ College/University,

This letter is hard, because I've never really thought about what I want from you before. That probably isn't good, so I'm going to try to rise to the occasion. 

First off, I suppose I should thank you for taking a chance and hiring me. I was just one more in a sea of eager grad students waving their dissertations in your face trying to show you that I was just a little more interesting than the guy next to me...and you believed me! For that, you have my eternal gratitude. I hope this works out well for us. 
I work best under loose structure. My hope is that you'll provide assistant professors with a mentor, a higher-up in their department who can show them the ropes and help us make the transition from being a student to teaching them. [My work deals with the sociological social psychology of identity in the midst of transitions, so I expect that I will feel a little lost  during this shift. I would like a professional shoulder to lean on, if possible.] We're going to get along great if I can pick what I want to teach, or at least choose from a list of available options. I would like to design my own syllabuses, or at least have the opportunity to modify established ones. I expect the freedom to come to class as I am, curly fro and all; I don't want to be one of those stuffy old professors who wears a suit every day. Again, my work is on identity: I hope we can find a way to let me be me while still representing you. 
I can't tell you how excited I am to have an office. As a student, I was always fascinated by those professors whose offices mysteriously contained just the right book/journal to help you, young grasshopper amidst countless volumes and mountains of paper. There was always something to be inferred by the condition of one's office: the carefully organized shelves professor v. the precarious stacks making the floor a maze professor, the comfy chairs to sit and chat in professor v. the two wooden chairs in front of his/her desk professor. I'm thrilled at the prospect of decorating a place of knowledge, even of having a physical space of knowledge to call my own. 
I hope you're the kind of school where professors precept and office hours are widely attended. I want to get to know my students. I want to help them. I'm not sure yet whether I want to be a PowerPoint professor or a chalk-stains-on-my-pants professor, but I want to inspire them. I want to teach an intro class and an advanced one--I want to reel students in the way I "caught the SOC bug" at Princeton, and once they're in I want to make them ask the harder questions. I won't be afraid to ask the harder questions. I hope that's why you hired me. 
I hope you're an institution that favors interdisciplinary work. I want to be friends with social psychologists (yes, even though I'm a sociologist!). I want to work for (or even in) your African-American studies department. In your Gender and Sexuality department, too. I don't want to be put in a box; I hate boxes. I hope you're a fairly liberal institution...I don't want to be afraid that I won't get tenure because you're scared of what I have to say. I hope you're not scared of controversy. I hope we serve each other well. 

I'm really looking forward to working with you,

Maya

2nd 30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Ten: Letter to Someone You Work With

Hey girl heyyyyyy!

You do happen to be someone I work with, but you're also a good friend. In fact, you're a surprisingly good friend respective to like, the amount of time we actually spend together. I always know I can talk to you about any issues I'm having (and visa versa), even the stuff that sometimes embarrasses me to talk to other Princetonians about like my family or money, because I know you feel me on stuff like that. On being black at Princeton and not religious. On being natural. On gender normativity. On...anything. And you're one of those people that I know I can count on when shit is rough. I will never forget how you SAVED MY LIFE when I left my wristlet (contents: student ID, government ID, debit card, insurance card, dorm keys, house keys, about $60 cash, random other important things) at the movie theater at the mall--running into you walking across campus while I was freaking out was the best thing that could possibly have happened. 
You're one of those good people in my life that makes me wonder whether I'm a good enough person/friend. I hope you feel like you can count on me in all the same ways, even if I don't drive or can't do some of the more practical things. I've got your back the same way you've got mine. 
As much as I do enjoy having gotten moved to a desk where there is a computer to keep me occupied as we "work" (#Ihopemybossneverfiguresoutthisisn'tarealjob), I miss getting paid to sit and chat with you. I feel like we got a lot closer that week we guarded the double doors together. I might start randomly taking "bathroom breaks" to come visit you out there. 
Long story short, I wanna spend more time with you. I'm excited for our roadtrip to AC to see Erykah Badu next weekend. I'm excited to just like, randomly chill with you over the course of the summer. I guess you got hired late, or whatever, because your email address wasn't in that original list our boss sent out (which I scoured looking for people I was excited to be with), but working with you is a wonderful surprise. Let's make a pact to keep this going when the school year starts again, okay? 

:),


Maya

I'm beginning to realize that "independence" is a myth.

One of the things I pride myself on is being independent, most particularly in the form of being financially independent of my parents, and emotional independence in the idea that I am able to pick up the pieces and put my life back together by myself when it falls apart, even if I usually have awesome people to help me out. My biggest goal for this point in my life is to be, like, a self-sustaining individual, no matter what kind of partnership or arrangement I find myself in. On top of all that, I really really really don't like asking for help. It's a problem I'm actively working on, and I have gotten myself to the point where I realize that I can delegate things to other members of a group without compromising my self-respect, but not to the point where I am comfortable asking my parents for financial help again. It makes me feel like a failure. 

My parents disagree. My dad goes into his, "Maya, your whole life you've never asked me for anything. Finding out what you want for Christmas or your birthday is like pulling teeth. When I was a kid, I always had my hand out asking for this thing or the other thing [...] take this, and if you need more just ask." My mom says "I understand [your need to feel independent], but everyone needs help sometimes. I still have to ask for help sometimes. And this year I managed to put some money away for summer emergencies, so if you need help, just ask." It's strange how, as I get older and begin to start forging my way in the world, my parents somehow seem to be more there for me than ever before. Or maybe I've just begun to appreciate their efforts more.

But right now I'm struggling to figure out a way to even show my dad that I appreciate him this Father's Day, because I have $54.26 in the bank to last me until payday, which is not next Wednesday, as I was led to believe, but the Wednesday after. Which presents ALL SORTS of issues because it means I'll only get my paycheck for my first week of work before the end of the month, on on the first my rent is due and I need to buy my new train pass, and even if I could somehow not buy groceries for the rest of the month (false), my paycheck for one week of work only covers about half of those expenses. BUT my proposal for summer funding from my fellowship was approved on Monday, and should take approximately three weeks, which means $2732.69 will theoretically be direct-deposited into my bank account by the 27th and I'll be fine for the first/ever. 

Theoretically. Hopefully. But what if it's not? I recognize that I can go to my parents if I have to, and they are thankfully right now in a position where they can be of some assistance, but y'all know as well as I do that that's definitely the exception to the general rule. It's just dawning on me that like, independent individuals are still totally dependent on stupid pay schedules and slow offices to get us through life's daily trials and tribulations. Maybe independence isn't a goal I should be trying to meet, rather, I should just try to manage my interdependences in the best possible way.

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Six: A Stranger

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Never Let Them See You Cry

About half an hour ago I had the second breakdown of my lifeS that originated in an elevator. (The first of which occurred when I was trapped inside an elevator alone in Maryland...another story for another time.) Today, I got out of my co-worker's car, rushed into my building, smiled weakly at the cute guy at the front desk who always buzzes me in instead of making me use my keys, got in the elevator, and literally fell back against the wall as all the fight went out of me and the front I'd been putting up for the last few hours of my (TWELVE FUCKING HOUR) workday fell to pieces.
So the founder and CEO of my company picked me up for work this morning, which kind of made me feel like she valued my presence enough to personally ensure that I safely got to this morning's 8:00 meeting at one of our partner schools, but my value in terms of human capital evidently ended there (i.e. in my head) today for both her and my supervisor. As soon as we got there, suddenly I was just the person to carry things and set things up and pass things out and collect them. (They sent me over to the group they weren't leading to "observe" and I actually kind of supervised and facilitated a little bit...but shhh don't tell them. I'll be slapped on the wrist or something.) I was that person at our 11:30 meeting at another partner school as well, but these strategic planning sessions are really kind of just selling our company to teachers (who are pretty reluctant as they end their school years and have summer on the brain), so I can see how that would really be a job for just the founder/CEO and my supervisor, the director of our summer program for teachers and administrators. What I don't understand is why I need to be present at these sessions if I'm not doing anything productive...but that's not even my issue. 
My issue stems from what happened when we got back to the office. Since I'd been out and about accompanying the two of them to four meetings in the previous 24 hours, I had about 30 unread emails and two missed phone calls and just...a lot of shit of my own to handle. Then my supervisor laid a bunch of shit in my lap with total disregard for the fact that I have projects of my own that she's unrelated to entirely that I needed to work on--granted, what she needed me to do had a more immediate need, but still...I hate the way she says "we" need to do this and "we" need to do that when she really means me--and then kept making it seem like it was my fault we were running around til the last second trying to get stuff done. Like, I'm sorry I didn't have the powerpoints printed, but you didn't even have them finalized til 25 minutes before the meeting was supposed to start, at which time I was outside carrying in all the food from the caterer.  God. 
But again, this is just setting the stage...my real problem happened at the facilitator's meeting. After she made me literally run through the hallways of Manley high school like a crazy woman in my heels getting everything ready, my supervisor made me leave during introductions to go get more soda so I didn't even get to introduce myself to the group. After a whole day of print these, copy these, put folders together, go put tape in the hallway for the Icebreaker Activity, go around and collect the journals, go to the cafeteria to put ice in the cooler to chill the drinks, go go go go go I felt like such a "gopher". (Go-for this, go-for that. Gopher.) I felt like there could be a machine that did for them the things I'd done all day, and that is not what they told me this internship would be. In fact, it is what they vehemently swore this internship would not be. I was told I would be a trusted and valued member of a core team, with real responsibilities that would have a lasting impact on this company...
...And what finally pushed me over the edge into the massive sobfest I had earlier and the angry rant I'm writing now proved to me that there's a chance I may never actually become a valued member of this team, because my supervisor basically told me today that my opinions are not worthy of being heard. This isn't the first time she's said this, but before it was my first day and she phrased it as if it was just too early for me to speak up in important meetings because I wasn't yet familiar with what was going on, which at the time was entirely true so I didn't question it. But today...
So the founder/CEO asked the group for ideas regarding items that would universally help the facilitators of the school team planning sessions at this giant teacher's conference I'm working to plan, a toolkit of sorts that we could equip each facilitator with relating to the school they're working with to help them get in the zone. People were tossing out ideas back and forth, and being ever so careful not to step on anyone's toes by talking over them, I raised a finger and opened my mouth, waiting for a lull in the conversation to put forth my idea. After having attended and taken notes on every single strategic planning session with the school teams over the course of the last three weeks, I'd developed a pretty good idea of what each school team is looking for during the conference and what programs they have that are and aren't working, as well as the specific areas in which they need the most help. I'd say, in fact, that it is part of my JOB to know these things about these schools...or so I have been led to believe. 
I had a really great idea. A lot of the schools we'd been in over the past few weeks had mentioned how difficult it is to coordinate among the various different programs and committees and organizations that work within each school, despite the fact that they're all supposedly working towards the same goals. Even in the group discussion I'd (secretly) helped to facilitate that morning, the principal of the school we were in kept dismissing goals the teachers wanted to meet as the responsibility of so-and-so-other-group, highlighting the lack of both communication and positive reinforcement between these groups. So I thought that one tool that would be great for facilitators would be a list of the other various groups and programs that exist within the school they're working with, complete with a description of the specific ways in which those groups can assist in the meeting of the school team's goals and the contact information for the leader of each group. And just as I was about to say this...
...my supervisor shot me a look of death and shook her head, 'No,' silently telling me I was not allowed to speak. That it was an inappropriate time for my opinions to be expressed. That my contributions were so entirely devalued in this situation that I might as well save my breath. And I must have given her a look like wtf do you mean no, woman? because she pantomimed writing something, so I wrote down my idea and passed it across the table to her. She wrote back that that was something we should include...and yet I hadn't been allowed to say it. The hierarchy within a corporation that swears up and down that it abhors "adultism" and exalts the expression and incorporation of "youth voice" would not allow me, the youngest person in the room with the freshest eyes on the situations at hand, speak my mind, regardless of how credible my ideas were. That's not only hypocritical, in the context of the work my company tries to do, it's just plain wrong.
And THEN. About five minutes later, the woman sitting to my right speaks up and says, Hey, wouldn't it be nice if we could  get a list of all the other things going on within our schools that relates to Student Development? And a woman on the other side of the room agrees that that's a great idea, and a guy says that it would be a lot of work but could we include blurbs, and our CEO raves about how great an idea that is and it is all I can do to hold my jaw from dropping to the floor. That was my idea first! And I knew it was a great idea, and my supervisor knew it was a great idea, and I'm supposed to be the valued team-member Princeton intern who is respected and appreciated, but I was silenced and those other people got credit for my idea. I could have been the one getting cool points with the CEO. This could have been my chance to prove that Hey look, I belong at this table. Because I do, and they told me I would. But my supervisor's actions today made me feel like I didn't belong at the table, and if I can't belong at the table, then their whole spheel about student involvement and youth voice and bringing high school kids to the table is a total and complete load of bullshit. 
I sat there through the rest of the meeting silently fuming and controlling my desire to walk out and never look back. And as the meeting was wrapping up, my supervisor whispered to me asking me to start cleaning up the food and taking everything back down to the office...back to my role of gopher/maid/my-supervisor's-personal-bitch...
I want to remind them that this is not what I signed up for. I want to take the internship description they wrote out and gave me and staple it to their foreheads. I want to say HEY LOOK, YOU ASKED ME TO COME HERE, SO ACT LIKE I MATTER, KTHNX. I want to play the Princeton card, and the in-less-years-than-there-are-fingers-on-my-hand-my-credentials-will-be-higher-than-yours-ever-will card. I want to feel like I have some merit...they didn't hire me because I was some little wimp who would lie down and take whatever people deigned to throw me--anybody who has ever met me knows I ain't down with shit like that. They didn't hire me because I begged and pleaded for their sympathy; I had other offers I turned down to come here. I want to tell them that I won't stand for this, but I signed a contract so I don't think I'm allowed to leave...and what force do I have if all I can make is empty threats? But I don't like this. I don't like this at all, and unless I get a dramatic apology tomorrow (which I highly doubt), then I don't know if I can continue to have faith in my own company. And once you lose that...then what's the point? I'm too young to hate what I do!