Sunday, March 30, 2008

Don't mess with my child

There's a new coffee shop that's opened right down the street. Cafe Eclectic. I've been there once and had really high hopes for it but now, I'm not so sure. My oldest was encouraged to apply for a job there. He did. He was told by one owner/manager/head cook/head-whatever to come back that next Saturday for training. He got up at 6:00AM so he could be ready and there by 7:00AM. He shows up and someone there--a different head something or other--told him, sorry--this is for people with more experience. We'll work the others in later.

He was disappointed. As an HR Professional for 18 years, I was embarrassed for the management group. How utterly unprofessional. As a mother, I was furious and embarrassed for my 15 year old.

Just so happens, we know the person with the money behind this operation. It's someone that my oldest has volunteered with on MANY occasions. Someone who has seen first hand how hard he works and how dependable he is. She's very unhappy that he's been treated this way. As a mother, I smile. As an HR professional, I want to grind my teeth.

He receives a phone call and is told to report on a Saturday. He does. He works for almost 8 hours.

He has YET to receive another phone call or to be put on the schedule. As a mother, I'm furious because I happen to know that they've hired another teenager close to my oldest's age who is a liar and a thief. I know this from first hand experience. The cafe does not. Well, not yet, anyway.

As a mother, I'm furious and want to scream at them.

As an HR professional, I'm furious and want to scream at them. If they aren't going to put him back on the schedule, fine, but have the common decency and respect to tell him that so that he can make other plans. Even if it's just a letter. Christ on a stick with cheese people, just because he's 15 doesn't mean he isn't deserving of respect. Perhaps if we treated our teenagers with more respect, they'd be more likely to show it.

As a mother, I want to call them and tell them that when stuff starts disappearing I can tell you who is probably responsible.

As a mother, I know better and know that this isn't my fight.

Still, it sets my teeth on edge or several different levels.

I don't think I can support them. I haven' been back except for that one Saturday morning.

Dammit. And it's so close to home.

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