紐約時(shí)報(bào)(New York Times)每年都會(huì)發(fā)起征集活動(dòng)并從中選出5篇優(yōu)秀的個(gè)人陳述，這些陳述都特別地涉及到了金錢(money). 工作(work)或社會(huì)階層(social class)的話題。下面文章由出國(guó)留學(xué)網(wǎng)小編所整理，希望能幫助到您。
今天推送的是第二篇，來(lái)自Caitlin McCormick，她回憶了童年時(shí)在她父母的家庭旅館所看到的服務(wù)行業(yè)的陰暗面，這些經(jīng)歷使她對(duì)潛在的各種社會(huì)歧視變得敏感，開(kāi)始參與到志愿者行列中去，并在這之后對(duì)服務(wù)者的角色有了不一樣的看法。
‘Slowly, my mother’s gingham(條紋棉布) apron(圍裙) began to look more like metal armor(金屬盔甲).
When it comes to service workers, as a society we completely disregard the manners instilled(被灌輸?shù)? in us as toddlers(學(xué)步的小孩).
For seventeen years, I have awoken to those workers, to clinking(叮當(dāng)響的) silverware rolled in cloth and porcelain(瓷器) plates removed from the oven in preparation for breakfast service. I memorized the geometry(幾何構(gòu)造) of place mats(餐墊) slid on metal trays(金屬托盤), coffee cups turned downward, dirtied cloth napkins disposed on dining tables.
I knew never to wear pajamas(睡衣) outside in the public courtyard, and years of shushing(用“噓”聲讓…靜下來(lái)) from my mother informed me not to speak loudly in front of a guest room window. I grew up in the swaddled cacophony(嘈雜聲) of morning chatter(嘮叨,喋喋不休) between tourists, professors, and videographers. I grew up conditioned(習(xí)慣于...的) in excessive politeness, fitted for making small talk with strangers.
I grew up in a bed and breakfast (https://peppertreesinn.com/), in the sticky thickness of the hospitality industry. And for a very long time I hated it.
I was late to my own fifth birthday party in the park because a guest arrived five hours late without apology. Following a weeklong stay in which someone specially requested her room be cleaned twice a day, not once did she leave a tip for housekeeping. Small-business scammers(騙子) came for a stop at the inn several times. Guests stained(臟的) sheets, clogged(堵塞的) toilets, locked themselves out of their rooms, and then demanded a discount.
There exists between service workers and their customers an inherent imbalance of power: We meet sneers(嘲笑) with apologies. At the end of their meal, or stay, or drink, we let patrons(顧客) determine how much effort their server put into their job.
For most of my life I believed my parents were intense masochists(受虐狂) for devoting their existences to the least thankful business I know: the very business that taught me how to discern(識(shí)別) imbalances of power. Soon I recognized this stem of injustice in all sorts of everyday interactions. I came to understand how latent(潛在的) racism, sexism, classism and ableism(體能歧視) structure our society — how tipping was only a synonym(同義詞) for “microaggression(微歧視).”
I became passionate. Sometimes enraged(忿怒填胸的). I stumbled upon(偶然發(fā)現(xiàn)) nonprofits, foundations, and political campaigns. I canvassed(游說(shuō),尋訪) for Senate candidates, phone-banked for grass-roots(基層的) action groups, served as a board member for the Women’s Foundation of Southern Arizona, reviewed grant applications for nonprofits and organized events for the nearby children’s hospital.
I devoted my time to the raw grit of helping people, and in the process I fell irrevocably(不可改變地) in love with a new type of service: public service. At the same time, I worked midnight Black Friday retail shifts and scraped(擦掉) vomit off linoleum(油氈). When I brought home my first W-2(Wage and Tax Statement 保稅表格), I had never seen my parents so proud.
The truth, I recently learned, was that not all service is created equal. Seeing guests scream at my parents over a late airport taxi still sickens me even as I spend hours a week as a volunteer. But I was taught all work is noble, especially the work we do for others. Slowly, my mother’s gingham apron began to look more like metal armor. I learned how to worship my parents’ gift for attentive listening, easily hearing the things guests were incapable of asking for — not sugar with their tea, but somebody to talk with while they waited for a conference call. I envied their ability to wear the role of self-assured host like a second skin, capable of tolerating any type of cruelty with a smile.
Most of all, I admired my parents’ continuous trust in humanity to not abuse their help. I realized that learning to serve people looks a lot like learning to trust them.