Let the Interviews Begin

It is a step of faith. In many aspects. Mostly financially, of course. But for me, except for a year when I finished my degree, I’ve worked at least one part-time job since I was nineteen years old. I’m not sure what life looks like without a job. And I’m pretty confident in front of a computer working on an Excel spreadsheet. I’m not half that confident I’ll make a half-decent mother. But, I will stop working at the end of January. Like I said…a step of faith.

And, so, this week I have been interviewing prospective candidates. I have seven total over four days. From those, I hope to slim them down to three for round two with the owners of the companies. Thus far, it’s been an adventure – and that’s only two days in.

For starters, let me explain what part of Pittsburgh I work in: not the nice part. Not the most terrible part either. There are worst locations in Pittsburgh than “Duestch Town”, but you have to know you’re not in the safest part of the City when you pass someone sleeping on the sidewalk, you have to have a key to unlock the door every time you enter the office and I once watched a drug deal go down right in front of our front door. (The entry way is right in front of my desk, two glass doors in a short hall of about six feet in depth. So, you can see why I could see them but they couldn’t see me.) Welcome to East Ohio Street!

I’m sure if you’ve always lived in a city (which most Pittsburghers have as way more than half the population are natives), such things don’t shock you. However, the very first girl I had come in to interview marveled at all the cops out arresting somebody or other. The third woman I had in this afternoon said a man stopped her on the street and asked, “Do you have a man?”

“Um, no.”

“Do you have a dad?”

It crossed her mind to be smart. Of course she has a dad. After all, she is standing right there, quite alive and breathing. But she just answered, “Um, yes.”

The man must have realized she was completely thrown off her guard for he replied in some frustration, “Lady, I’m trying to sell you a watch.”

All I could picture is the stereotypical guy in a trench coat, opening it up and showing the inside full of who-knows-where-he-got-them watches.

Thankfully there are laughable moments like these in the midst of several hours full of interviews, because this whole process is really not my cup of tea. Honestly, I think I’m as nervous on my side of the table as they are on theirs. But the Lord is gracious, as I discovered just before leaving work today:

Tomorrow I was to have an interview with a woman who, from her resume, looked like she had great potential. I opened her last e-mail to reply and send her a reminder for tomorrow’s meeting. As I did, I realized I had never clicked on the link she has next to her signature. I knew from reading her resume that she had started and directed a non-profit, but I hadn’t bothered to research it and assumed by it’s name it had something to do with art. Since I had a couple of minutes, I clicked on it. It wouldn’t connect me (which is not surprising when you run Office Suite 2003) so I Googled it. And found my virus protection wouldn’t let me on the website. Why? Well, it’s a Lesbian/Gay non-profit for the arts.

I was a bit stunned (to say the least) and had a moment of crisis: I don’t work at camp anymore. I have a secular job in a wicked world. I can’t refuse anyone the opportunity of a job for any reason. But I have never sat across the table from someone of that “persuasion” and had a friendly conversation. Good grief, I have enough trouble having a pleasant conversation with my mother-in-law and her live in boyfriend. How was I going to get through this interview as if I didn’t think something was wrong? How do I keep in mind that this is a fallen world and I’m just as much a sinner, although thankfully forgiven by God’s grace? I didn’t know what to do except sit at my desk and pray that God would, indeed, give me His grace for tomorrow.

But no more than 20 minutes later, I had a response from that same women, telling me she had found another job and would no longer need the interview but she hoped we would find the person we were looking for. Praising God I happily replied, telling her I was glad she had found something and hoped it suited her very well.

Isn’t God great?