When I first started working at museums, it was rewarding to work with and educate people who walked into the doors, curious about science or art. I got to see their smiles as I told them local histories, or if they needed help I knew I was able to do so with my own two hands. Creating these interpersonal connections is important to me: treating people with compassion and respect helps people going through tough times or fosters learning. Knowing that I was able to help people in my own small ways through a smile and a job well done ensures I did my part to make someone’s day better. I knew at the time that I was not making that widespread of a difference, but the little things are more important than we know.
This week I started working at my internship placement, which also marks my first experience in government office work. My role consists of acting as a directory to federal services, passing messages to case workers, and taking comments from constituents. All of this happens over the phone in an office setting. It is a completely new environment for me. Before, it was easy to see the impacts of my work face to face, but at my new position, the help I provide lacks the interpersonality that is vital to how I serve the community.
A hidden drawback of having a greater impact through government is having less of a personal connection between you and those you help. You must rely on others, where the people you help are reduced to a voice on the phone and a name on a screen, and you never know whether the people you helped receive the care they needed. Working with communities on a larger scale creates distance between myself and them, because I do not have the authority, time, and resources to help everyone. As you continue to move up in scale, seeing people as people becomes more difficult. I think I was able to remedy this by trying to be friendlier over the phone and listen to people’s stories, but I felt like I was patronizing them. I was only appeasing the people I helped over the phone without any substance behind my words, because you can only do so much through a phone’s receiver.
This is made even more apparent by the significance of every ring of the phone: green cards, passports, taxes, and issues people feel strongly about. The people I help do not call because they want to, but because they have to. I was especially moved by a call from a constituent. He was working hard to send money back home to pay for his aging mother’s chemotherapy, as well as paying neighbors to help her mother with household chores. This man applied for immigration for his mother a few months ago, but needs it expedited due her worsening health. I felt powerless, I heard the desperation behind this man's voice and all I could say was, “I am very sorry to hear that. I’ll send a message to a caseworker to help you. Good luck.”
Coming to terms with the raised stakes of every phone call and the magnitude of people in need is sobering. Every story was dire as the man and his mother, and every problem I felt deserved much more tact than phones allow. After one week of working at my placement office, it has made me realize how much I enjoyed directly helping people, despite doing so in an objectively smaller way. I originally knew I did a good job if I saw smiles on people’s faces, or children telling their parents all of the new things they learned. However, the conversation at my placement ends the moment I put down the receiver. Finding a balance between interpersonality with people, and impact on their issues is difficult to find. I find solace in knowing that I was part of helping solve a large problem, but I hope that one day I get to meet with people face to face and watch them smile as I did before. Understanding this widening gap between making a personal impact on people and an impersonal wide impact on a population is an aspect of power and leadership I have never considered.
