What jobs have you had?
The expert at anything was once a beginner.
At the beginning of my vacations after my grade 11 exams, when I moved from Science to Arts/Humanities, Dad showed me an advertisement in the newspaper and had me apply. It was a sales-girl required advertisement. The interview was the following day and I had to write my resume. I had no idea what a resume was, but I sat down with Dad, and put down details like he asked me to. And just like that, I had a resume. At age 16, with no experience, my resume reflected my confidence, good English, and no marketable skills. Dad then helped me prep for the interview, he would ask questions and coached me through the right kind of responses. This was a summer stint and I was super excited. Dad walked me through the entire scenario including one where I was rejected and prepared me for a worse-case situation as well.
The following day Dad insisted I carry a copy of my resume with me for my interview. I was dressed conservatively in a salwar suit; this was my first interview. I did not see any reason to carry the resume, but Dad insisted I did, and he ensured I carried it in a plastic folder with a pen and a spare A4 paper. The bus journey to the destination was filled with excitement. This was my first interview and I had no idea if I would get the position or not. There were no details on how many applications they would accept, or where the job would be located, just that they wanted salespeople. The interview room was a rented office cubicle downtown, the building was old, the stairs were narrow and dark and the lift was questionable. When I reached the room, there were a lot more people like me with the same idea. Girls, boys, men, women, in all kinds of attire and with a variety of qualifications. What hit me was the cacophony, a constant consistent buzz that kept droning on and on and would briefly stop when the door opened and one applicant came out breathing a sigh of relief and the next person’s name was called. As the applicant walked in with the interviewer, the drone would slowly start again. I was nervous and I kept looking around trying to identify the source of the buzz, no one was talking, lips were sealed shut and there was a nervous air around us all. But the buzz continued.
The interview itself was brief. I was called into the room, and as I walked to the table I removed my resume and handed it to the interviewer. I did not sit until I was asked to. I did not volunteer information until I was asked a question. When I was told to clarify any queries, I only asked for the location of the showrooms where the team would be placed. The interview lasted all of ten minutes. It seemed very brief and I was told to wait for the results. Roughly a couple of hours later, the names of the shortlisted candidates were announced and my name was called. I had made it! I was ecstatic and it was tough to wipe the silly grin off my face. I waited until the room emptied and the next round of eliminations started. Dad had prepared me for this as well, he had told me to wait and be patient, that if there were a lot of applicants, then they would first shortlist and then they would conduct the interview again. So I waited because I knew that I could be sent back at this time as well. This time we were just given letters with the address of the showroom we were expected to report. It was done. My first job. Part-time Sales girl, Flying Machine, Commercial Street. Pay: 6000Rs pm. I was elated. Back in the day, that was a lot of money for a 4-hour slot. My timings were between 4 – 8 pm. Some salespeople were working 8-hour shifts and they got a couple of thousand more. For a kid who grew up without pocket money, that was instant riches for an evening of hanging out at a store.
This was more than a couple of decades ago, and in the years since I have realized that sales and marketing are fields that you are either good at and excel in naturally or you struggle and push yourself to meet deadlines. Having the appropriate qualifications when you have a passion for the subject ensures you get recognized early on otherwise, you will spend time earning your stripes and justifying the expense of hiring you for the spot.
Soon after postgraduation, I interned with an agency and then I joined as a Junior Copywriter. The job was full-time, but the pay was 4000Rs. I worked and stayed with my parents for the duration, and while I struggled through this phase, I applied for the position of a Junior PR intern. A cover letter is a formal letter you write to the recruiting officer to highlight your interest and how uniquely you qualify for the position. I had no idea. But, if I received that cover letter today, the resume that followed would land in the bin without any consideration. I have since moved into writing and done different kinds of writing. Every application, every interview, every job I have been through has taught me something new and something different. I did not get into PR but continued in writing. Copywriting, content writing, content creation, website content, brochures, Audio-visuals, kiosks, – if the client had an idea then I helped find the words to bring that idea to life.
Then I moved industries. I jumped from writing and marketing to teaching. I worked part-time as a journalism lecturer. Teaching young adults is not for everyone. As a rule, 90% of the students in class in any age group hate sitting and learning. And if you add writing to this equation, kids get bored very fast. Maybe a coaching session, where the entire class works together on one piece of content on the board and ends with the students having the requisite training to attempt a similar assignment on their own. This may not have a high rate of success, but it will help you identify the problem areas, making it easier to tackle. Unfortunately, I learned this lesson long after I stopped teaching that batch of young adults. I shifted focus and tried my hand at tutoring mini-adults. Preschool is a very satisfying age group to train. But it is the most exhausting age group to train. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, this age group is stressful to handle. Hats off to preschool teachers. “You are a truly patient and amazing lot”. Their days start with wailing kids refusing to come in and end with wailing kids refusing to return home, liberally interspersed with wailing kids throwing tantrums because they don’t have the words or vocabulary to communicate their wants or needs. Over the years, I have moved back from teaching to writing and I currently alternate my time between art, writing, mentoring, and teaching.
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