don't judge a book by its cover {letter}
Grace McGraw
111 One Way Street
Nashville, TN 20022
555-555-0110
exceedinglygoodinfo@gmail.com
Grace McGraw
111 One Way Street
Nashville, TN 20022
555-555-0110
exceedinglygoodinfo@gmail.com
February 24, 2012
Mrs. Karen Peoples
Director of Human Resources
Non-Profit
P.O. Box 33333
Nashville, TN 20024
Director of Human Resources
Non-Profit
P.O. Box 33333
Nashville, TN 20024
Dear Mrs. Peoples:
I am writing you in regards to the Public Image Specialist position posted on your website. I am a recent graduate of City University’s M.A. program and am seeking employment in the Public Image field.
My attention was immediately sparked when reading about the various services Non-Profit offers to its clients. Fulfilling the role of Public Image Specialist would allow me to assist Non-Profit in sharing the stories of each individual served, creating new advances in the visibility of Non-Profit’s mission. During my Master’s program I served as Public Relations Intern for the San Francisco- based PR firm, Allison + Partners. For a full year I devoted my time working with high profile clients to develop promotional print media and social marketing campaigns, scheduling public appearances to increase product awareness, and establishing and maintaining cooperative relationships within the community. I learned valuable communication and marketing skills during my time with A + P. Enclosed is my resume, and there you will find an outline of other education and employment related experiences I believe make me a highly qualified candidate for your organization.
I am very interested in meeting with you to learn more about this position and Non-Profit’s hiring plans. I live in The Gulch and am available to schedule that meeting at your convenience. I will be glad to provide you with any additional information that is needed. Thank you for your consideration.
Grace McGraw
first day {of my life}
All morning I questioned the amount of eyeliner I should wear. My mom told me once that I look like a “lady of the night” after putting on makeup while nervous.
“Please, Lord, don’t let them think I look like a tramp,” I said aloud to myself. “I can do this.” The last thing I needed was for my new co-workers to get the wrong impression of me on my first day.
As I got out of the car, I started replaying my interview over again for the 3,016th time. Mrs. Peoples seemed to like me and to believe I would be a good fit. I sure hope so.
iPhone, check. iPad, check. Favorite Pilot G2 blue ink pen, check. Alright, here goes nothing.
The Administrative Assistant greeted me warmly and took me upstairs. “Pat is with a client right now, but she asked me to have you wait in here until she is finished. She would like to meet with you briefly before your new employee training starts.”
As she walked away, I took advantage of the alone time to canvas my surroundings. The carpet was probably 15 years old and stains littered the areas not covered by various pieces of mismatched and outdated furniture. A desktop computer sat abandoned on a corner desk, displaying an “out of order” sign as well as an impressive amount of dust. I was about to walk closer to inspect a painting that appeared to be of a three legged horse, when I heard “You must be Grace” come from behind me.
Turning, I saw a woman grinning from ear to ear standing in the doorway; late twenties, strikingly pretty, and not married. Come on, I’m 26 and single. I do ring checks on everyone.
I returned her enthusiastic grin, “Yes, I am. And you must be Pat.”
“Oh no,” she laughed. “My name is Charity. I am in the office next to yours and heard that you had arrived. I knew Pat was with someone, so I wanted to stop in to welcome you to Non-Profit.”
“Got it. And thank you, that is very kind,” I said. “What is it that you do here?” As Charity started describing her role as Client Satisfaction Coordinator, a tall, foreboding figure entered the room.
“Charity, give Grace and me some privacy.”
She spoke so quickly that she had entered the room, taken a seat and was looking expectedly at me before I could say goodbye to Charity.
I joined the woman, whom I assumed to be Pat, at the table and began to introduce myself.
“Yes, yes,” she interrupted. “I know who you are, where you came from, and what you think you have to offer Non-Profit. What you need to know is that I have been the Director of Public Image for nine years and I am not going anywhere. We have an established and reputable name in this city that I refuse to allow any new employee to tarnish. Do you understand?”
Before I could open my mouth to respond, she resumed speaking: “Your position is new, so there is no one to be your safety net while you train. I expect you to hit the ground running. And mind you, Grace, running in the right direction.”
The door opened and Charity stepped in. I was grateful for the momentary distraction. Pat was staring at me so intensely that I felt confident she knew what color underwear I had on.
Without a word, Pat rose from the table and exited the room.
Dumbfounded, I stood up from my seat and looked at Charity with a pleading look on my face, “Can you please point me in the direction of a very strong cup of coffee?”
A timid smile formed on her face, almost as if she had been asked that question a time or two. “I’m sorry, Grace,” Charity said. “We don’t have a coffee machine here at Non-Profit, but if you sneak over to the bank next door they have usually have a fresh pot.”
Blerg.
“Don’t you dare start getting ready without me!” Chloe said as I hung up the phone. She had called to let me know her plane from San Fran has just landed at BNA and she had arranged for a car and driver from our condo to pick her up. Glancing at myself in the mirror I knew we were not going to make our 8:30 pm dinner reservation. It was already 6:45 pm, I looked like hell, and Chloe barely had both feet in Tennessee. It was ok, though. The restaurant in our building was incredible and much more convenient. And I know Chloe wouldn’t dream of turning down their martinis.
In three years of living together, the last twelve days were the longest Chlo and I had been apart. We moved to Nashville together about a month ago, but she had to return to San Fran for a work trip. She was lucky enough to get hired on at A+P’s sister site, Corporation, here in Nashville, which meant she essentially got to keep doing the job she had during her internship… now she just got paid for it. Her schedule in San Fran was ridiculous, so we hadn’t had a chance to do much talking. She hadn’t heard a thing about my first week at Non Profit.
I had been standing in my closet, staring at my clothes, for what felt like only moments, when I heard the front door open.
“Chlo!” I squealed as we embraced. Hugging her neck, I breathed in the smell of the coconut extract shampoo in her beautiful, red popular girl hair. No one dresses for travel as impeccably as Chloe. As she stepped back to sit down her luggage, I couldn’t help but admire her new outfit.
“Girl, I am going to miss California shopping so much,” she said. And she was right; the style of the South was very different than the West Coast, and I had some perfect examples of that just from my first week of work at Non-Profit. But just as I was getting ready to share the past week's "fashion don'ts" with her, Chloe started talking about her boyfriend, Bryson, and the dates they went on in California. I instinctively flinched. Was Chloe saying that she had time in San Fran to go out with Bryson multiple times, but she was too busy working to catch up with me, her BFF?
Chloe's recapping of her romantic escapades lasted the whole two hours it took us to get ready. As we finally made our way down to the bar, I reminded her that I had just had my first week at work. “All week was new hire orientation,” I explained, “which means we watched videos on equal employment and drug free work environments. Most of the people there are really nice. There is this one girl, Charity, who seems super sweet. She invited me to bring my lunch one day and eat in the staff lounge with her so that we could get to know each other.”
“Bring your lunch to the staff lounge? What is this…elementary school?” Chloe chortled. “My new supervisor is taking me to The Cat Bird Seat Monday evening for my first day in the Nashville office. The only thing more outrageous then their menu is the wait list to even get into the place. Did they even treat you to a fabulous anything on your first day?!”
Silently, I shook my head as Chloe snapped at the bartender for her martini to be freshened. “That just doesn’t make sense to me,” she said with a toss of her hair. “Treating a new hire to dinner and drinks is just proper etiquette.”
I squared my shoulders, and with a twinkle in my eye retorted in my best faux Southern drawl, "Dah-ling, we're not in Kansas anymore."
Chloe let out a high peel of laughter. "It sounds like that is exactly where you are."
read between the texts
I squared my shoulders, and with a twinkle in my eye retorted in my best faux Southern drawl, "Dah-ling, we're not in Kansas anymore."
Chloe let out a high peel of laughter. "It sounds like that is exactly where you are."
read between the texts
feast or {in this case} famine
Oh, geez, banana and handful of raw almonds, I ate for breakfast was long gone. The growls bellowing from my stomach were so loud, I was pretty sure the hoopty to my right could hear it over my blaring Patty Griffin album. Luckily, however, I was less than a mile from work and the first thing on my agenda for the morning was a staff meeting. Memories of past A + P staff meetings from my intern days me so strongly, I could almost taste the buttery, flaky layers of those to-die-for croissants. Recollections of flirting with the coffee cart guy kept me occupies until I finally found an empty parking spot.
I wandered down the hall toward the room Mrs. Peoples had gestured towards when telling me about the staff meeting last week. I couldn’t help but notice how quiet things were. It was two minutes until the meeting was supposed to start and there was no hustle and bustle. No clanking coffee cups. No tittering of office gossip. Nothing, nothing but the hum of fluorescent lighting. Glancing in the door, I saw a handful of people, five at most, sitting around a table that could comfortably seat fifteen. There were, only seven chairs. There were no projectors or computers for video announcements. There wasn’t a croissant in sight. Maybe the time got changed? Maybe the meeting got cancelled? As if sent from heaven to answer my questions, Charity appeared from around the corner. “Hey girl, you ready for the meeting?” she asked with a kind smile on her face.
I wandered down the hall toward the room Mrs. Peoples had gestured towards when telling me about the staff meeting last week. I couldn’t help but notice how quiet things were. It was two minutes until the meeting was supposed to start and there was no hustle and bustle. No clanking coffee cups. No tittering of office gossip. Nothing, nothing but the hum of fluorescent lighting. Glancing in the door, I saw a handful of people, five at most, sitting around a table that could comfortably seat fifteen. There were, only seven chairs. There were no projectors or computers for video announcements. There wasn’t a croissant in sight. Maybe the time got changed? Maybe the meeting got cancelled? As if sent from heaven to answer my questions, Charity appeared from around the corner. “Hey girl, you ready for the meeting?” she asked with a kind smile on her face.
Charity and I sat in the last two rolling chairs and, before I could inquire about the missing breakfasts treats, her cell phone rang. Because there were no more empty chairs, each staff person entering the room was physically dragging in four-legged chairs along with them. Internally grateful that I had chosen a rolly chair closest to the only window in the room, I scooted my seat closer to the wall to give people room. Before Charity could finish her phone call there were about thirty people in the room. The availability of personal space was dropping just as rapidly as my blood sugar.
A woman I didn’t know from Adam entered the room with a commanding, yet welcoming, presence. After being on the receiving end of the puzzled look on my face, Charity mouthed “CEO.” The woman thanked us for our attendance and explained that she was going to begin our meeting by reading an excerpt from a letter she received in the mail from a former client of Non-Profit’s:
“From the moment I crossed the threshold at Non-Profit, I felt like a worthwhile and valuable human being, a feeling that I have rarely been afforded in the past. In the months I spent coming to Non-Profit, I learned that the traumatic events of my past, while they shaped the person I am today, no longer define me. Each time I look into the eyes of my son, I am reminded that this moment would not be possible without the care, compassion, and counseling that I received at your agency. I am eternally grateful.”
The woman swiftly laid the letter off to the side and began discussing the agenda for the remaining time, but I couldn’t even begin to discern the words spilling out of her mouth. Tears were already welling up and the pains of hunger so dominant moments before were quickly swallowed up by a sense of pride in the work being done at Non-Profit.
Yes, Chloe is right. I could make more money at Corporation. I could eat fancy lunches and wear pencil skirts. My ego could be stroked by the mobile office barista. But lives are changed every day at Non-Profit and, today, I think it was mine.
*Written by Allison Gibson
Edited by Sarah Warren
