This past summer I worked my first retail job. It’s a type of work that makes people-watching integral to success – this came naturally for me, since this job was my first venture out of a year and a half spent solely in my childhood home. After leaving months of remote schooling and virtual calls behind, I was thrown into in-person, tangible socializing for eight hours of my workday. This transition was interesting, and it left me with introspective tendencies and the ability to overthink every part of how we approach others. I’d constantly reflect on how I carry myself, on how others carry themselves. After weeks of interacting with various types of shoppers, I found myself wondering the same thing over and over again:
‘How many people walk around every day with the fear of seeming stupid?’
It’s a good question, if I do say so myself. On a personal level, I’m sure it resonates with most people; we want to seem like the competent, smart person with all the answers. In pursuit of this, we fear error and the unknown. In the case of our shoppers, it also means we walk into malls scared of dropping things, interrupting sales staff, or being honest with our friends. In the case of a newbie employee who has never worked in customer service before, it means having plenty of questions, and a gnawing feeling that they aren’t worthwhile.
Yet, I learned to ask my questions anyway – and I think you should, too (with as much respect for people and their time – obviously). Firstly, because you’re a person who experiences confusion and who deals with other people who’ve also been confused before. Secondly, because questions help us reach our potential. For instance, we don’t ask questions because we want to be, or seem like, robotic geniuses who’ve magically cracked the code. But who do we actually become when we don’t ask questions?
Sure, I didn’t want to be known as the “dumb” employee who asks fifty questions a day. Although, I also didn’t want to be the employee who’s bad at her job, seemingly doesn’t care, and will make the same mistakes every day. Ultimately, that’s who we become when we negate our own curiosity.
I never want to be this person, especially since seeming dumb is different than being dumb, and I’m comfortable with my questions. Too bad we usually consider other peoples’ perceptions of us before our own. Why should we? Worst comes to worst, we ask our questions and are answered by rolling eyes or impatient tones.
At least the answer would bring us closer to the people we want to be: the person with the answers.