A Ladder to Nowhere: The Moment My Life Plan Failed

I just graduated magnum cum laude from the University of Georgia because I have always been an overachiever. I have decided my post-college career path will be working a clean job at a bank, where I can dress up nicely every day and not smell like food. All throughout college I had many jobs, like waiting tables, delivering pizza and sub sandwiches, and working at a convenience store.

By far the worst job of the bunch was the convenience store, but I wanted to work early morning hours because of my class schedule and nighttime painting time. I started every morning at 5am, suffered through the breakfast biscuit rush, and saw all the construction workers off to their jobs on a full belly of ham, red links, or bacon biscuits. This gas station had all the country food, like fried chicken, gizzards, potato wedges, and—of course—biscuits. So I smelled like fried gas station food all day, and it permeated all my clothes.

My interview for my bank teller position was given by a girl that looked my age. She sat behind her desk looking at my application in her private office on the 11th floor the SunTrust Bank building in downtown Athens, Georgia. I passed the interview with flying colors, and she hired me on the spot. After she hired me, I asked her how old she was.

 “I’m 21,” she smiled.

“I’m 21 too! How did you become the head of HR if we’re the same age?” I asked.

She said, “Well, I skipped college and got hired as a bank teller here when I was 16 and have moved my way up.”

I started to see the injustice of how my dad’s declaration that if I didn't go to a university, I would become a ditch digger (or worse, marry a ditch digger) wasn't adding up here. The person who didn't go to college was many years more advanced than I was in the corporate world, and now I just got a job as a lowly bank teller making minimum wage, which at the time was $5.50 an hour. This meant that one hour of my life was worth a whole 5 dollars and 50 cents. But Ms. HR’s life without a college education was worth at least three times what mine was.

My life plan was to work my way up in the bank by day and moonlight as an artist while I tried to get my art into galleries, so that one day I would hopefully make it as an artist and be able to quit my day job.

Bank by Day, Brushes by Night

I continued to work at the bank, giving it my all, while I poured myself into my art at night and lined up art shows in coffee shops and local restaurants. At the bank they announced a contest among tellers across all the Athens area branches to collect referrals for IRAs, Roth IRAs, annuities, and mutual and trust funds.

The prize for the most referrals was a $500 shopping spree with a gift card to the mall. I really needed new clothes for this bank job and wanted that shopping spree in a big way! I asked all my fellow tellers what these bank words meant so I could figure out how to get the referrals. None of them knew, and everyone said the contest was stupid.

I could see my chances of winning just increased. I spent a couple of days researching IRAs and mutual funds and trying to understand all the differences so I would approach the right people for these types of accounts. Younger people for Roth and older people for trusts. Got it!

The theme of the contest was “Indiana Jones” for some reason, so we had signs and decorations for it all over the bank. I never quite figured out how Indiana Jones connected with all of these accounts, but I didn't waste any time starting to build my referrals.

My parents really ingrained in me to work hard and put in my utmost effort in everything I do. Not trying or putting half effort has never been possible for me. My very first job was when I was 12 years old, when I worked as a receptionist for my dad’s engineering and construction company called “Techno.”

I felt embarrassed to sit at the front desk because I knew I looked like a kid and sounded like a kid when I answered the phone. I also suffered from extreme shyness, so this job was a huge stretch for me, and nearly every day of my summer was torture.

But no matter how much I hated it and preferred to be at the beach all day with my friends, I had to give this job my all. Both my parents and my brother worked at the office, so I saw my family every minute of every day all summer long from age 12 until 17.

Besides answering phones and sending people to whoever they came to see, I would get everyone lunch, drop off and pick up mail from the mail room, and type up bids, which I had to finish before the deadline. My mom trained me in these things and marveled at how quick and accurate I was.

Going All In

My parents drilled into me to be “hungry, humble, and honoring” as a worker. If I was hungry, I wanted to advance, get paid more, and strive for excellence. I should anticipate needs and be proactive. If I was humble, then I would be teachable and admit mistakes without getting defensive. If I was honoring, then I would appreciate anything that came my way and feel grateful for my job. Without much effort, these principles have stayed with me over the years and helped shape my life and career.

I was operating in my prime element at the bank, achieving many referrals each day and handing them to the head teller to send upstairs to the account managers. After a week of talking to customers and getting referrals despite my shyness, random middle-aged men from the third floor would come by my teller window and tell me what a good job I was doing and how my referrals were converting to accounts. Everyone told me that I was way in the lead and would be winning the shopping spree.

This news didn't make me let up. It drove me even harder to get more referrals. As my referral numbers grew, the other tellers who were attempting to get referrals saw they were too far behind and gave up. I kept trying to encourage them and explained the difference between the different account types so they would know who to refer to the different types of investments. But it didn't work. Everyone seemed to give up.

The final day of the contest arrived, and I knew that I had most likely won. The head teller told me that at 4pm I had an appointment to go to the vice president’s office, and she would award me my prize for the contest. I waited all day for 4 o'clock and still had a low-grade sense of doubt that someone from some other branch had more referrals than me and I would be set up for a big disappointment.

The Cost of Excellence

At 4pm I walked into the vice president’s office and sat down.

“Elli! Good to see you! We have been hearing some wonderful things about you and how many referrals you have turned in for our account managers. We are grateful for your efforts and so happy you participated in this contest.

“Unfortunately, you were the only one who participated. We have decided to cancel the contest due to lack of participation. If we didn't cancel the contest, you would have been the winner, so I offer you this gift as a gesture of our appreciation.”

In her hand extended my way across the reddish oak desk, was a plastic snake. YES! A plastic toy snake, in honor of Indiana Jones, I guess. I did not reach out to take it, and she softly laid it on the desk in front of me.

“I’m sorry. I worked my butt off. For the last two weeks, I thought about nothing else but how to talk to our customers, win their trust, and tell them how our investment accounts are the best on the market and how the account managers will guide them into a perfect safe investment. I did not hear once at any time during this contest that it was cancelled or that my hard work would, in the end, would be for nothing. Instead, I was encouraged by both the account managers and my boss to keep going and that I was in the lead and to not let up.

“That is complete manipulation, and I expect the $500 shopping spree gift card that was promised. I’m sure it is only a fraction of the commission that should be deserved for all the business I brought you,” I told her, holding back the rage I felt.

“Well, how can you expect us to deem you the winner when you were the only one participating? As I told you, we are not awarding the gift card, and if this upsets you too much to work here, then you will have to find another job.”

She picked up the snake and thrusted it at me. I knew that if I walked out without the stupid snake, I would be fired. I swallowed the giant lump of pride, sheepishly took the snake, said, “Thank you,” and hung my head in shame.

For the last hour of work, all the other tellers were excited for me, thinking I had gotten the gift card. They were congratulating me. I was silent and knew if I told them what happened, I would start bawling. I just kept cashing checks, smiling at customers, and wishing them a good weekend, and then finished the day balancing my drawer.

Driving Toward Destiny

In my car on my drive home, as the tears streamed down my face, I felt completely powerless. Utterly small. I was insignificant. Hunger, humility, and honor could do nothing for me now. They could not help me move ahead in that bank. I was marked as a troublemaker from this moment forth because I stood up for myself and spoke the truth. My brief career path of banker by day and artist by night was over.

Deep down, I knew I was unemployable. I would never be the type that could overlook something like what happened. I couldn't honor or respect a person in leadership that could sell their integrity for $500. My heart felt betrayed that day.

The things my parents taught me didn't pay off. A college education was a joke; and hard work, self motivation, and grit meant nothing in this environment. I decided I was not a JOB person. I would have to work for myself. I didn't know how I would do it, or when it would happen, but I needed to own my own business. I had to be driving my own destiny.

I stared at the plastic snake sitting on my dashboard and realized it was the perfect symbol. Not of failure—but of awakening. That cheap toy marked the moment I stopped trading my worth for someone else’s definition of success.

Now becoming a successful artist was non-negotiable.

Has your life plan ever taken a turn you didn’t expect?

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