Serendipity struck just 2 days before my 40th birthday. I was going about my daily grind when a message pinged on LinkedIn. The messages I get there are almost always spam of some sort, so I didn’t think much of it until I spied the company name. It was a recruiter from my alma mater looking to see if I was interested in an open Pastry Instructor position. Huh? Seriously? Me? There must be some mistake.
I have seen listings for this position pop up several times over the last few years. Every time it has come across my screen, a deep pull of longing has tugged at my heartstrings while the shrill voice of Ms. Judgypants chimes in to say that I am not good enough to qualify for the position (yay for imposter syndrome). I have even gone so far as to start filling out the application only to give up halfway through.
After reading the quick note from the recruiter, I responded not expecting anything to come from it. Ms. Judgypants was in fine form telling me that I don’t have enough experience and once they figure that out, they will give me the boot. Even after I got through the initial screening and subsequent Zoom interview with the campus VP, Ms. Judgypants just got louder. “You talk too much. You are annoying them. You don’t have enough to offer them.” And on it went.
Ms. Judgypants is what I call my peanut gallery, or my itty bitty shitty committee. She’s the ever-present voice of my “not good enough” fears and damn does she get loud sometimes. I see her as just a mouth blurting out a never ending stream of criticism, derision, disgust, and judgements.
Anyhoo, they were still interested after the Zoom interview. I ended up on campus again almost 7 years after I finished my degree program to perform a “bench test” (essentially a form of a working interview) administered by a man whose culinary pedigree and experience in culinary education are freaking intimidating.
I had a story in my head that my former Pastry Instructors were annoyed by me and wouldn’t want me as a coworker. The moment I stepped on campus, I ran into one of them who recognized me instantly and came to shake my hand and ask me how I’d been. Ms. Judgypants chimed in with, “He is a great actor. Doesn’t seem annoyed that you are applying for the position, but you know he hated you when you were in his class.”
Then along came the VP and Provost, and straight into a kitchen where we chatted and I did a little sample lecture/presentation. Per the information I had been given for the bench test, I was to demo either chocolate tempering or cooking a French Omelette. I had selected tempering chocolate and had studied and practiced to brush up on the skill. Of course, when I was brutally honest about being confident with tempering chocolate but very inexperienced with French Omelettes, they asked for me to demo the Omelette. Apparently my mouth was working far ahead of my brain that day.
They left me alone to do a practice omelette first and said they would be back in 10 minutes. I sanitized, washed my hands, gathered my supplies, and started cooking. I put on my big chef pants and decided to grab butter to use in my pan instead of the oil they provided (because butter makes everything better), took way too long trying to figure out what level to set the flame on the burner (I haven’t worked on gas in 5+ years), and channelled my inner Rachel Ray by creating a little trash bin at my station.
When they came back in the room, I was almost finished, and Mr. Highly Experienced Chef gave me some finishing tips and then looked at his VP and said, “That’s good enough for me, I don’t need to see a second one.” He went on to tell me that he wasn’t looking for perfect technique. He wanted to see how I conducted myself in the kitchen and how I presented information. Since the curriculum is set by the school, what they need their instructors to be able to do is connect with and engage their students in learning while bringing in real-world experience and a genuine passion for the craft.
Again, Ms. Judgypants jumped in, waving her arms around to get my attention, jumping up and down and screaming, “You talked too much. You got too excited. They think you are dumb. Why would you admit that you didn’t practice the omelette at home? You looked unprepared.”
Just 30 minutes after I left campus, I received the notification that they would like my professional references. The next morning, my references were telling me they had already been contacted and just a few hours later I had a verbal job offer and was told the Provost and VP were very impressed and incredibly excited to offer me the position.
Here is a small sampling of the thought trains going through my brain station after that phone call. Imagine this all as overlapping conversations:
“HOLY SHIT. Did that just really happen? How did I trick them into choosing me? They do realize I talk too much and don’t have enough experience. But wait, the Provost has a Le Cordon Bleu background and has been in the field longer than I have been alive. If he picked me he must see something valuable in me. He must just be desperate and since I can start right away they just need someone. But he is a very experienced professional who seems to care a great deal about his students and staff, so he wouldn’t just hire a warm body and jeopardize the quality of education the students are receiving. And I get my name embroidered on a chef coat and get to wear a toque and people have to call me Chef. But I tricked them in some way. What if I get in there and they realize I just talk too much and can’t keep the class on schedule and my experience isn’t what I said it was and I way overstated the things I have done in the past and tricked them and they figure that out?”
I am choosing to let the imposter trains pass through the station without hopping on board. Those thoughts aren’t going away anytime soon, but I can see them, notice them, and then watch them leave without going along for the ride.
The funny thing about those thoughts is that behind her criticism, Ms. Judgypants is trying to protect me.
Serendipity has been one of my favorite words for a long time. I blame the adorable Kate Beckinsale and John Cusack movie. And, although I am not spiritual or religious in any way, I choose to see the serendipity in these events. I have been saying for YEARS that I just need someone to pay me to talk about sugar, and here I am getting ready to start a job doing just that. Happy 40th Birthday to me!
Me graduating from Escoffier
Dealing with a bit of imposter syndrome yourself? I highly recommend checking out Dr. AJ Lauer and her book, My Monster Mungo. Working through her process is exactly how I was able to discover, name, and visualize my very own Imposter Monster. It’s an absolute game-changer. I am still working on turning Ms. Judgypants into a friendly support monster though. Progress over perfection.
From a wayward baker, finding her way,
