Blog Post #2: wal-mart: vice or virtue?

 Years ago, on my trip throughout the States, it didn’t take me long to notice certain patterns and similarities in the layout of the rural America. Its tiny towns seem to be faceless, streets in these faceless towns seem to be empty, population seems to be indifferent to their own realities, and only the omnipresent Wal-Mart is brightening a mediocre face by a new discount on already discounted products. While some might concentrate attention on the store’s role as the country’s largest private employer and its help to the low-income layer of population with “always low prices”, there have been more and more issues which made local population, authorities, public organizations and store’s own employees very unhappy by Wal-Mart’s impact on communities throughout the whole country. Local businesses file bankruptcy one after another the moment a new Wal-Mart opens its doors in the area, the shoppers are often exposed to the least healthy groceries and lowest quality products, the poor third world country workers manufacture the absolute majority of the goods earning almost nothing, and the last but not least, Wal-Mart’s own employees themselves are enslaved by the company’s most repressive policies.

This is the beginning of my essay, and i think what is good about it, is the fact that i give my own impressions and reflections about Wal-Mart. I might want to dwell deeper to specify the issues  locals have with the company. In my thesis I enumerate who and why in my opinion suffer from the company's policies and draw the attention to the internal problems, shifting here the focus of my essay.

Hope you like it!

and also smth i stumbled at during my research:
excuse the language in comments, it's not mine!
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/?p=11629

Sisyphean toil: the futility of job search.

                                         ..As the weather gets better, the enormous effort invested into getting back on the track in The Big Apple after a prolonged trip starts bringing some fruit: Miss Cashew Squirrel has found a cozy hollow *sigh*, has responded to thousands of emails with her (a little too extensive) resume and has met about a hundred of restaurant managers (who turn out to ask her out more often than offer a job). Last but not least, of course, networking: each and every of Squirrel's multiple friends is aware how much she needs MONEY. Little Squi is very happy to be getting phone calls from unfamiliar numbers, and an invite to a job interview sounds way more tempting to her than one to Metropolitan Opera!

I caught myself on a painful thought: How long did I not touch this change box? I remember this candle box filled up with coins back from my apartment in SoHo from before I moved in San Francisco (was it 2006?), where it fit so well with its silver shiny sides. It’s been the fourth day since I have been picking out quarters and dimes smelling like forest flowers to buy a bagel and a coffee on my way to school. Mornings are the toughest (who invites one for breakfast?), and the afternoon text messages from friends bring some hope in my day. My dear friends, I love you all, especially the ones who kindly invite me to their place – to hear my travel tales, to feed me some homemade food and to charge off my batteries, filled with Caribbean sunlight…

A month of frustrating job search seemed to have stopped, finally, with an email from a potential employer. I got invited to an interview!!! I put on my best “good girl” outfit and some refreshing make-up, printed out my polished resume on glossy paper and went to the interview in mood as if it was my long-awaited date. Alas, my mood flushed down the toilet the moment I got application # 86 (ironically, in the service industry jargon it stands for absence of something, in this case of opportunity), having made it to the venue 15 minutes after the interview had supposedly started! Yes, I did wait for 1.5 hour till my 85 competitors were all done and gone, when I finally got to answer just one (one!) question of the manager. Again my thirst for knowledge ruined my career: unfortunately, they are currently hiring only full time applicants with schedule as clear as summer skies, and they just wasted about 3 hours of my time, as I have honestly mentioned being a full time student on my resume :(

I didn’t even get to change from my “waitress” outfit, as I immediately got an invite for another interview. A brand new trattoria in Midtown, relatively close to my new room in Astoria, seemed to be just perfect for me, especially with my extensive experience with Italian food (my Italian boyfriend cooks with so much passion!) The day was just too rainy for too much of competition, I thought and decided to give it a try. The executive chef who interviewed me explained me all the peculiarities of that particular restaurant in a very articulate and expressive way, and hired me immediately after we found common friends among Italian party organizers and some TV people. Ha! – do not call me too communicative any more – obviously my broad and messy connections were the lick of flame which melted the chef’s heart. I was told to come for staff meeting the next Tuesday, and I left the restaurant, the happiest girl in the world!

My friend Kelly’s phone call is always good news, but this time it was better than ever. “Why don’t you try yourself in the beauty and skin care world?” – she said, - “I know there’s an opening at one really great and expensive line in Bergdorf Goodman!” Since then I have been pregnant with the idea of becoming a Bergdorf girl – high-end, polished, sophisticated, and good with all these containers filled with high-tech age killing potions. All I need is to learn all the product line descriptions from the catalogue, and prove to be friendly and communicative sales monster, and a $25/h job is mine! Flexible schedule, no late hours (store closes at 8pm), no service industry rush and hustle and opportunity to make $200-250 a day – what can be better than being a Bergdorf girl?

I had hardly finished the conversation with Kelly, when my Skype started to burst out. My friend Victor, a sound engineer at a conference space in one of the Midtown High-rises, mentioned a possibility to work for all-state media conference happening the week after. $12.50 an hour, he said, not much, but with the amount of hours you can make over 500 in 3 days. The opportunity to be able to pay my next rent turned my head, and I gladly accepted the kind offer. I was supposed to wear white shirt and black trousers (faceless service industry standard) and was expected at the venue at 10am on Friday morning. One thing I knew I am not leaving the conference before I make enough for the next month rent, even though I would have to die afterwards (anybody knows how much is a coffin?)

Thereby, in 3 or 4 hours I have got 3 job opportunities, two of them being permanent while the third was a presumably exhausting gig. If it rains, it pours, indeed – thought I falling asleep that night, foretasting my last late morning tomorrow – the incontestable benefit of being unemployed. Wish me good luck and lots of energy for the next week, dear reader, i will need it all.

Speaking about the sweatshops..

Someone gutta love pink and blue combination

Blog Post #1: "In the times of chilly economy one degree can make a difference"

In their myth about Sisyphean toil ancient Greeks describe ungrateful, excruciating, futile, even destructive labor. Punished by the Gods of Olympus for his attempt to avoid death, Sisyphus was condemned to a most difficult and therefore meaningless task: for all eternity is he doomed to push an enormous rock up the mountain; almost at the top the rock darts off, and Sisyphus has to start his relentless, agonizing work over and over again.

For some work might seem something between Sisyphean toil and the torments of Tantal: something unavoidable, difficult, fruitless, boring, relentless. I envy the other group, people who believe that work is the essence of life force, the voluntary act of creativity, and consider the products of their work to represent their spiritual and physical abilities, their mental net worth, their self control and discipline, their best fruit - their baby. These people fall asleep in a hurry, excited to wake up and produce; these people smile when they get to their work place, lit by internal flame, excited to turn new ideas into life; they hurry to create, enjoy their lives, having followed their vocation. These people are happy magicians, and I am studying to make one of this kind:)

"In the times of chilly economy one degree can make a difference" says a college advertisement on the subway. I like creative approach to each and every task, and here how one can get creative with such a boring and formal thing like a RESUME. Check out these resumes, ones that make you smile (even though looking for a job is not funny), ones that make you remember (in the endless line of people, faces, details, experiences), ones that make you think (think!) and ones that get you hired. HIRED!:)