Glorified Babysitter.

Basically, I am a 25 year old that has managed 9 interns in just 8 months and these are my *ridiculous* stories.

“Here’s an idea — hire young men and women to work for you. Young men and women that are desperately trying to earn a college degree and better position themselves when it’s over. Young men and women that can afford to work for little or no money in exchange for an “experience”. Hire them. Work them. But whatever you do, do not respect them. They are not to be respected.”

I feel like that is along the lines of what the great human being who invented an “internship” said over two old fashioned’s after a hard day’s work…or should I say “work”. Because in all actuality, if said internship was properly executed, his work was delegated in the name of an “experience”. It was delegated to these eager young men and women — The Interns.

Look, I’ve been an intern. I ran that game and I ran it well. I scored my first internship in middle school. Though, Calling it an internship may actually be an overstatement. My older sister landed an internship but failed to remember that homegirl already had a gig — my babysitter. So what did I do? As a 12 year old girl, I put on my best business outfit and marched my little precious butt right into the offices of a Cornell University extension campus working on environmental sustainability issues in my town. I sat right next to my big sis at her first meeting as if I was supposed to be there and at the very end I shook hands with her boss. (Fun fact: it was my first ever handshake and it was horrible. Even then I knew it was horrible. I Spent most of my teens trying to perfect my handshake and honey, I can straight Harlem shake the shit out of anyone’s hand these days). I spent that summer sitting on the floor next to my sister’s cubicle filing papers. Everyone thought I was cute but I was too busy for all that, I was a working woman.

I often forget about this story, but when I do remember, I recall two things: my sister was well on her way to be a BOSS. She walked in on her first day of her internship with her own intern — No questions asked. Second, I had a drive. I have a will to succeed that started young and that fire is still right under my ass. It feels good to know that I know what it means to work, and to work hard. And it feels good to know that I was brought up to value a good work ethic, you know that thing we shun rich kids for lacking.

So what’s the point of this story? The point is I did the intern thing and did it well so now can talk shit about it. I interned every semester of college and graduate school while I worked two jobs and maintained a full time course load. I was dumb at first, and worked many unpaid internships. Then I smartened up and landed some paying gigs. Paid or unpaid these opportunities were no doubt invaluable. I was very lucky to always work in and around my field and for that I am grateful. As with all new experiences, I made mistakes. Namely, I could have dressed more professionally ( I’m a D.R.E.A.Mer — denim rules everything around me), I could have been on time, and I probably could have worked faster. But I was pleasant, I made connections and I did good work. As a result, I eventually landed a good job. See, it all worked out!

So, why am I being punished?!