Just another day at work
I work in the recruitment department of a large call center. For anyone coming across this blog who knows Jerusalem and the Anglo community, yes, it's "that" call center.
Every Tuesday, we have what we call an "Open Recruitment Event." That means anywhere between 20-60 people come, fill in our application; take our computer test and meet with someone in our department. The meeting ("screening" in our jargon) is to determine quickly if someone might be suitable for one or more of our available positions. If so, which position(s) the person would be most interested in. Then we set an appointment for a real interview.
Because we only have between 5-15 minutes with each person, we have few basic questions/conversation-starters we ask in order to get a feel for a person.
"Tell me a little bit about yourself."
"What is your work background?"
"How well do you handle pressure/stress?"
Shortly after I started, my colleague screened someone whose sister had been killed in a suicide bombing, and he was severely injured in the attack. On a regular basis, I speak with people who've gotten out of the army who tell me they've had to track/trap/shoot terrorists.
So now, with the war on (or on hold, whatever), it's no surprise that we're seeing people directly affected by it.
Yesterday, out of the 12 people I screened, two stick out:
One was a bit out of it, and apologized. She was going from our company to a funeral for one of the soldiers who'd been killed on Sunday.
The other was a young guy -- barely 20 years old. I asked him what he's been doing lately, and he said he just got out of the army a few weeks ago.
My first response was "mazal tov!" because that's what we say here when someone gets released from the army.
I mentioned it was interesting that he got out in the middle of the current situation, and he told me he got out because of the current situation:
"A few of my friends were killed in front of me, so I asked for a few days off to recover a little bit. They told me they couldn't do that, but they could release me... so they did."
I didn't know how to react. It went something like this:
"Okay, I guess 'mazal tov' isn't the best phrase for a situation like this. I'm really sorry about your friends... and I hope we can do something that will be good for you."
In the U.S., I read about soldiers being killed, and felt really sorry for their friends and family.
But here, if you read about one, it touches much closer to home.
And unfortunately, it touches this close to home on a regular basis.
Every Tuesday, we have what we call an "Open Recruitment Event." That means anywhere between 20-60 people come, fill in our application; take our computer test and meet with someone in our department. The meeting ("screening" in our jargon) is to determine quickly if someone might be suitable for one or more of our available positions. If so, which position(s) the person would be most interested in. Then we set an appointment for a real interview.
Because we only have between 5-15 minutes with each person, we have few basic questions/conversation-starters we ask in order to get a feel for a person.
"Tell me a little bit about yourself."
"What is your work background?"
"How well do you handle pressure/stress?"
Shortly after I started, my colleague screened someone whose sister had been killed in a suicide bombing, and he was severely injured in the attack. On a regular basis, I speak with people who've gotten out of the army who tell me they've had to track/trap/shoot terrorists.
So now, with the war on (or on hold, whatever), it's no surprise that we're seeing people directly affected by it.
Yesterday, out of the 12 people I screened, two stick out:
One was a bit out of it, and apologized. She was going from our company to a funeral for one of the soldiers who'd been killed on Sunday.
The other was a young guy -- barely 20 years old. I asked him what he's been doing lately, and he said he just got out of the army a few weeks ago.
My first response was "mazal tov!" because that's what we say here when someone gets released from the army.
I mentioned it was interesting that he got out in the middle of the current situation, and he told me he got out because of the current situation:
"A few of my friends were killed in front of me, so I asked for a few days off to recover a little bit. They told me they couldn't do that, but they could release me... so they did."
I didn't know how to react. It went something like this:
"Okay, I guess 'mazal tov' isn't the best phrase for a situation like this. I'm really sorry about your friends... and I hope we can do something that will be good for you."
In the U.S., I read about soldiers being killed, and felt really sorry for their friends and family.
But here, if you read about one, it touches much closer to home.
And unfortunately, it touches this close to home on a regular basis.
posted by M at 07:25
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