I discovered the land of opportunities in the summer of 1999. Beaming with hope about what I could do and who I would become. If there was a scent for hope, it would be exactly what an immigrant smells in the air when they make landfall.
Like Eddie Murphy, my first mission was landing a job. Any job. I needed to make money until the registration cleared up at the community college. Then I planned to bury myself with school work.
I applied to a few jobs. But none of them thought I could do anything. A teenager. With exactly zero experience. Fresh off the boat.
But then K-mart decided to take a chance on me. I got the position of being the bag-checking person.
I asked for clarification, “What exactly does that job entail?”
My manager explained, “Checking bags as people left the store.”
Really? Someone got paid to do that?
I smiled.
Jackpot.
I had no idea what working for minimum wage was like. Or that we had to ask for permission to go to the restroom. How bad could it be? I focused on the fact that someone would pay me money. For the first time in my life.
