Dressing The Part

When asked to list our work-related-anxieties during AVODAH orientation, I wrote down "clothing." I have been wearing jeans and t-shirts for the past four years and have just never quite felt myself in anything else. While not nearly as frightening as my pre-Thailand shopping extravaganza, my mother and I did once again have to venture to the stores to prepare my wardrobe for this adventure into the working world.

Today, was the first day of work and I dressed myself in my new clothing and told myself I looked appropriate as I ran out the door. In DC, it's common to wear tennis shoes to work and then change to nice shoes when you arrive. I decided to do that. What folks don't tell you is when it's appropriate to switch to your work shoes. After much angst attempting to be not too early, but not late to work, I managed to arrive 15 minutes early, grab a tea from Starbucks, and awkwardly switch shoes in the store. I have no idea if this was appropriate, but no one glared at me.

When I arrived, the doorman at my office building pointed me to the elevators. When the doors opened on the 5th floor , I hesitated to step-out. What if someone saw me? Was my hair and makeup still correct? I  pulled out my phone to look in the front-facing camera when the elevator doors closed and returned to the first floor. When they opened, I tried to stay hidden behind the door panel and just return upwards, but the doorman saw right through me. He called out that I would need to use the other elevator now, so I shamefully exited one elevator into the next. He must think I'm not too smart.

My first day in the office has been good and full of information. My main concern is that I drank about two 32 oz bottles of water. A key is required for the bathroom, so the office manager saw every time I went.  I'm concerned she thinks I'm young, unmotivated, and getting up to take extra breaks. She hasn't said anything yet, but I still worry.

During my first trip to the bathroom, I look at myself in a mirror again, trying to get used to this new look. In the reflection, I see another woman looking in the other mirror and when I turn to smile at her, I realize it's me. I literally do not recognize myself from the back.

Taking a lunch break is strange. I decide to walk to DuPont circle and eat lunch outside. My boss tells me I can take an hour for lunch, but I don't know if I need or want this much time. I realize I will have to learn to take the hour breaks and not over-work myself, but it feels weird to be on this regimented schedule with "lunch breaks" again. Breaks that I should take, but am worried about taking too generously.

I hit about 30 buttons on the microwave, probably annoying the entirely silent legal staff with whom we share offices, before I figure out how to heat my leftovers, then head to the park.

I keep stealing glances at myself to get used to this look. I wonder what other people see. Am I seen as a fancy professional or can people tell how uncertain I'm feeling? Do I read young professional or intern? Can people tell this is my first day on my first job? 

Living in DC, especially Columbia Heights, is problematic as a white middle class person; I am taking up a space that could be given to a low-income family and my presence and purchases push gentrification forward. Even though I'm working on these issues, I need to take into consideration my impact to maximize the good and minimize the less good.

Dupont Circle, the park specifically, is an odd place for lunch. You've got young professionals in their fancy business attire eating $15 salads and fancy vegan bowls next to homeless folks on cardboard boxes pan-handling. The sun is high above and hot and I walk around for way too long trying to find a shady place to eat, before sitting down.

After eating a few bites, a man sitting a few feet from me smoking a cigarette asks in a raspy voice for food and I freeze.

My friend Samantha gives something to nearly every homeless person she sees, even though she is living on a student's budget. It's been a year since I learned this about her and now I can't pass by someone panhandling without thinking of her and her generosity.

So now this man has just asked me for food. I've already given a lot this month, but I don't see this as a reason to pat myself on the back when a hungry person is in front of me. I look at him, then my food, then him, then the food, back and forth.  I only brought a small amount of leftovers for lunch and would like to eat it. He notices my hesitation and asks me if I'm hungry; I don't know what to say.
In my head:

Yeah, I am hungry. And I brought this lunch.  But my hunger is probably quite different from yours. If I give you my food, I will still be guaranteed a delicious dinner tonight, and I could buy more, but I'm on a tight budget....If only I brought more or had a granola bar, but this is my lunch...

I give him the small bit of pita I have. I've taken several bites out of it and it feels wrong to give him this bread, but also feels wrong to give him nothing.  It is the only compromise I can make as my bowl of food can't easily be divided and shared.  He asks if I have a dollar and I give him one, but he wants 3. I can't afford to give to every person on the street. I am self conscious as I hand the dollar to him What do the other lunchers think of me? Can they tell I'm new by this interaction? Have they already learned to filter out those asking for money? Have I just marked myself as naive? I finish my few bites quickly and walk away.

On the walk back, I see my reflection in the windows of the fancy shoe store.

I still can't figure out who I see.