The door I'd just come thru closed firmly behind me. I stood expectantly but irresolutely, resume in hand, and took one last look over my shoulder... The wall was lined with doors: "sales," "food service," "study abroad," "teachers' assistant," and "college," to name a few. But after a quick glance I faced the opposite direction, clutched my precious paper personality a bit closer, a took a step toward the opposite wall. I had no doubts that with this winning list of experiences, skills, and awards, the doors on the wall would readily appear.
But they didn't.
Stunned, I gathered my pride and began tapping lightly at the wall, assuming those on the other side would hear, open their hidden doors, and and happily welcome me to the professional side. Nothing. The tapping became anxious pounding, and in humbled desperation I stooped and helplessly slid my paper credentials in the tiny cracks next to the floor, hoping against hope that someone would recognize my talents, my potential! And open a door!
Of course, the walls to my right and left were lined with doors: "Customer Service Representative" and next to it in flashing lights "SPANISH," and the other doors, "English Teacher - Relocation to China," "Restaurant Management, Bilingual," "Train Conductor," "Bilingual Teachers' Assistant." The list went on. Those doors, like the doors behind me, ranged from wide open to invitingly ajar. But I had my sights narrowly set on the wall in front of me, and even the slightest regression - or what appeared to me to be a regression - affronted me, angered me even.
After covering what felt like every inch of the wall that yielded not so much as even the smallest crack, I sat down, defeated. My resume, crumpled and stained, sat beside me- disillusioned, unused, useless.
Gradually I began to look around again, what else could I do? And suddenly I became aware that I'd collapsed in the middle of a small patch of light.
Surprised and momentarily delighted, I looked up and it dawned on me that I was sitting directly below a skylight. A skylight! It was bright and warm and not too far above me, but I could see very little through it. A few friendly faces and hands extended, beckoning me up. I jumped up, but afraid that I wouldn't be able to reach them I instinctively shoved my resume toward them, hoping it would bridge the gap. It cast a shadow on my little patch of sunlight, and I was pleasantly relieved to see them push it out of the way, reach even further toward me and call me to stretch, jump, and climb, so they could help me out. I was surprised, uncertain, and intrigued. What was up there? I reached up, testing their strength and mine, our hands nearly touched, but I could feel the weight of my indecision, fear, and expectations holding me down. The unknown intimidated me. I'd grown comfortable inside the Room With Many Doors. My discarded resume screamed at me to reach down and save it - all that experience! All those skills! All those awards! All that time in college! For nothing?!
As I peered around cautiously, I finally took a good look at all four walls. The doors I'd come through - they got me here, my paper credentials were a mere shadow of that. The doors, unentered, around me only showed me paths I knew I didn't want to take. And the blank wall in front of me that I'd tried so hard to penetrate... I suddenly realized that there may be another way to that side of the wall - if I really wanted to get there.
I then took another look at the skylight.
The faces called to me excitedly, the view behind them slowly began to come into focus, and the "unknown", criss-crossed with the shadows of familiar faces, became a challenge, an adventure! As I reached up and our fingers touched, I felt my fear giving way to excitement, my uncertainty changing to confidence, and the artificial weight of my paper personality falling away. Exhilarated, I wondered how I'd let that wall hold me in such a devoted frenzy when the sky was open right above me.
But they didn't.
Stunned, I gathered my pride and began tapping lightly at the wall, assuming those on the other side would hear, open their hidden doors, and and happily welcome me to the professional side. Nothing. The tapping became anxious pounding, and in humbled desperation I stooped and helplessly slid my paper credentials in the tiny cracks next to the floor, hoping against hope that someone would recognize my talents, my potential! And open a door!
Of course, the walls to my right and left were lined with doors: "Customer Service Representative" and next to it in flashing lights "SPANISH," and the other doors, "English Teacher - Relocation to China," "Restaurant Management, Bilingual," "Train Conductor," "Bilingual Teachers' Assistant." The list went on. Those doors, like the doors behind me, ranged from wide open to invitingly ajar. But I had my sights narrowly set on the wall in front of me, and even the slightest regression - or what appeared to me to be a regression - affronted me, angered me even.
After covering what felt like every inch of the wall that yielded not so much as even the smallest crack, I sat down, defeated. My resume, crumpled and stained, sat beside me- disillusioned, unused, useless.
Gradually I began to look around again, what else could I do? And suddenly I became aware that I'd collapsed in the middle of a small patch of light.
Surprised and momentarily delighted, I looked up and it dawned on me that I was sitting directly below a skylight. A skylight! It was bright and warm and not too far above me, but I could see very little through it. A few friendly faces and hands extended, beckoning me up. I jumped up, but afraid that I wouldn't be able to reach them I instinctively shoved my resume toward them, hoping it would bridge the gap. It cast a shadow on my little patch of sunlight, and I was pleasantly relieved to see them push it out of the way, reach even further toward me and call me to stretch, jump, and climb, so they could help me out. I was surprised, uncertain, and intrigued. What was up there? I reached up, testing their strength and mine, our hands nearly touched, but I could feel the weight of my indecision, fear, and expectations holding me down. The unknown intimidated me. I'd grown comfortable inside the Room With Many Doors. My discarded resume screamed at me to reach down and save it - all that experience! All those skills! All those awards! All that time in college! For nothing?!
As I peered around cautiously, I finally took a good look at all four walls. The doors I'd come through - they got me here, my paper credentials were a mere shadow of that. The doors, unentered, around me only showed me paths I knew I didn't want to take. And the blank wall in front of me that I'd tried so hard to penetrate... I suddenly realized that there may be another way to that side of the wall - if I really wanted to get there.
I then took another look at the skylight.
The faces called to me excitedly, the view behind them slowly began to come into focus, and the "unknown", criss-crossed with the shadows of familiar faces, became a challenge, an adventure! As I reached up and our fingers touched, I felt my fear giving way to excitement, my uncertainty changing to confidence, and the artificial weight of my paper personality falling away. Exhilarated, I wondered how I'd let that wall hold me in such a devoted frenzy when the sky was open right above me.
