An elderly gentleman with little English and no computer skills wanted to apply online for a job that he’d seen advertised.
He didn’t have an email address, didn’t own a computer or mobile phone, had a hand written in blue (real) ink resume and cover letter, and after fifteen years of being his wife’s carer, the companies he listed as previous employers were no longer in existence, though his work ethic and suitability (other than the no computer skills) would have made him suitable for an interview... had he been fifteen years younger.
To be honest, at first I was pretty put out that I had to firstly set him up with an email address he didn't want and would never use plus pretty much fill in his application for him. (Besides, I wasn't even rostered to be on the floor, I was just walking past and he caught me)
I knew the transaction ahead would take me the better part of at least 45 minutes which I didn’t really have spare. I frowned, pulled out a chair and shot him some questions so I could assess the damage to my time.
Then I looked.
Really looked.
I saw this proud man who I could imagine had gently tended his sick wife, who couldn’t understand why this world had left him behind and why his wonderfully practical yet now 'antique' or 'quaint' skills honed through years of working hard and solidly wouldn’t be as much appreciated as they should be.
Through questioning, conversation and listening, I DID spend at least 45 minutes typing all his details into the many pages of online application. He left partly satisfied yet I could tell still bewildered. He had patiently watched as I type type typed, he had no idea WHAT I was typing, but he would every now and then interject to emphasise something I looked twice at on his resume, ever vigilant that I not miss or misunderstand his skillset.
When I walked back to my desk, other staff, waiting for my tantrum, told me how patient I was, how he’d taken up my time etc.
Normally, I'd sigh, breathe out, agree, ask for coffee and whine about my work not getting done.
... and I took a breath... and I realised.
“What’s his world? Right now, his world? Nothing. This life has left him and thousands of others high and dry, everyone is expected to be online and cybersmart. Everyone is supposed to be faster and achieve.
He cant even find where his life is.
and if I can make him know he’s at least trying… then I guess that's good?”
Pins dropped.
Not only barriers broken with the gentleman involved, but with other staff as well.
And up I grew.
Again.
