Remy's muses - Productivity at last!

Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Suitnoob Banker - Part I

In the autumn of 2004 I struck out on my own from Prince George and settled in the drippy city of Nanaimo. After a couple months I landed my first job, that as a technical support representative for Microsoft. It was a thankless job, and I worked it for nearly four years. There was laughter, frustration, learning, corporate poo-buttery,human silliness, tempermental computers and countless muted microphone rants. It inspired what many consider my most amusing story to date – careful, a little swearing – and I gained some valuable skills, chief among them patience and low-level computer upkeep. But all mediocre things must come to an end as they say in – oh heck, I just made that up. After nearly four years I got married, and a month later I was given the bronze handshake – laid off from NCO due “officially” to accessibility issues with new software.

For the last four years I’ve searched this squelchy port city for meaningful and long-term employment, with the desire to provide Chelsea and I with a comfortable life riding on my back like a lice-ridden monkey. Rejected from Shaw Communications twice, I sought less ambitious customer service employment opportunities for a long time. It was all I knew; all I felt qualified for. I dreamed of going a different direction, but I never honestly believed I’d have an opportunity to get out of such dead-end work.

 In the last two years I’ve had the opportunity – however fleeting of working with some wonderful individuals. I’ve gained experience in documentary and feature writing, narration, promotion and even audio transcription. I’ve discovered a love for audio design and have created two audio theatre pieces , the Noire inspired A Contract of Souls, and the alternate world fantasy Dreamlight. And I’ve discovered that while I have very little aptitude for it, I actually do have a little bit of talent in playing the piano and keyboard. But none of these experiences could have prepared me for the direction my professional life would take me. I said not long ago that no matter what happens this year, life wouldn’t be the same. How right I was.

Please indulge me while I create a little bit of context. Last summer I was visiting my local TD bank here at Beaufort Center, and on a whim I asked a teller one day just what sort of experience I would need in order to be considered to work there. At that point I was really willing to try almost anything besides prostitution and telemarketing. After briefly explaining the kind of work I’d done in the past, she highly suggested I apply, as they were hiring. And so I did the unthinkable in this day and age. I introduced myself and my disability to their manager, and I left her with a resume, completely bypassing the online process. I expected little, yet I was bolstered by a few positive references and a reasonably decent resume. I thought it would be perfect! I could help people, learn about the overwhelming yet essential world of finance, and walk to work every day.

 Chelsea was thrilled, and very supportive. She felt that while I wouldn’t get this job, it would lead me to something else in the near future. Even though I had an in, I still had to spend some time going through the online application process. Next came the phone interview, which was a step further than I’d gotten in a long time. and then it happened. The manager who I’d already introduced myself to called me in for an interview. Though I tried to maintain a calm exterior, secretly I was ecstatic.

 But the promising interview came and went, and in the end I was positively rejected. I say positively because though I wasn’t hired, it was one of the more optimistic rejections I’ve received. The manager passed my resume along to another division of TD, and after yet another promising interview for an IT position I wasn’t really comfortable with – or qualified for - I was once again turned down. Nevertheless everyone in the branch kept telling me to keep applying. For the first time I wasn’t as disheartened by a rejection. I’d never considered going into banking, but now that it was a thought in my mind, I found myself hard-pressed to let it go.

Fast forward to January 2012. Chelsea’s newly-found pregnancy turned our world upside down and stripped off all its what-ifs. Suddenly all those big decisions we kept putting off became of the utmost importance. How will we support ourselves? And where would we live? Would we stay in Nanaimo, or move to Ontario like we kept saying we’d do? At the time I was part of the Lime Connect program, which worked with participating businesses to reach out to potential employees with various disabilities. The thirteenth of January saw me attending an employment conference in Vancouver where I would have the opportunity to meet one-on-one with potential employers for informational interviews. And who was there? Not one, but three banks, one of which was TD. Perfect!

The conference went great. TD seemed overjoyed to see me again, and I was supposed to hear from them in the coming weeks. BMO seemed interested too, though I wasn’t sure what they really thought. The only bank which didn’t seem all that impressed with my credentials was RBC. They made it a point to explain that sales experience was a major asset, and while I’d done some up-selling and promotion, that’s one area of expertise I was sorely lacking. Nevertheless they liked me as a person.

After that, Chelsea and I decided to give Nanaimo until the beginning of may. If nothing came of this conference, or if I couldn’t find anything else, we’d migrate to theoretical bigger and better opportunities in Ontario. At least there we’d be closer to family.

Then we lost our little one, and as quick as that, everything changed again. Nevertheless we held to our plan.

Weeks passed, and I heard nothing from TD. But RBC, the one company who didn’t seem interested contacted me, and I found myself going through the same steps as before; online application, phone interview, and after many weeks, a real interview with real people. By this time I didn’t kid myself with any expectations. Yet I found myself working hard to research the company and its values. I felt the need to work harder than I ever had before. Perhaps it was my barely disguised apprehension of moving to Ontario. Or maybe I’d traveled so far down the rope of rejection that I’d finally come to the noose at its end. But I was determined to leave a good impression if nothing else; one last harrow as a testament of all I’d learned about job-seeking. And so I prepared for whatever would happen.

The interview went extremely well, but then most of them had, right? I was very up-front about who I was, what I was, and what I could do. I explained that I’ve always loved people, and that working in a financial institution would give me a great opportunity to teach others to take charge of their finances, and learn about them myself. I left the interview feeling really good, but not expecting anything to come of it. By then I had resigned myself to the impending move. Maybe I wasn’t looking forward to it exactly, but I was beginning to imagine the possibilities instead of dwelling on the trials.

The call came the next day. The moment I picked up the phone and heard my interviewer’s voice, I felt sure I’d be rejected. I even shook my head and mouthed “no” to Chelsea. I can’t see facial expressions, but I imagine my eye balls must have nearly dribbled out of their sockets when he said “we would like to offer you the job”.

I felt the world dim a little. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right? I almost asked him to repeat himself. I couldn’t believe it! For the third time in less than five months I felt our lives shifting directions. All of a sudden our carefully laid plans, the downsizing, the cross-country research, all of it disappeared for me. All of a sudden I had hope. I was employed, and after four years of searching, it was long-term. And more. For the first time in my life, I had the inkling that I could find a place of employment where I could learn and grow, and where there was no glass ceiling beyond that which practicality might lay on my muddled eyes.

The weeks leading up to my first day of training were full of preliminary paperwork, accessibility assessments and deep, almost teenage boy relaxation. With no more job hunting being necessary, and no stress about what to do next, I was free to just enjoy the heck out of my various hobbies. And so I read, wrote, played video games, spent time with Chelsea and devoted a little more time to practicing the piano and keyboard, all without any guilt. And it was glorious!

Then, both too soon and after too long, my first day as an RBC suitnoob banker began. But that, my friends is for another entry.

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