The Numeral Effect

Working this summer has made me increasingly aware of the prevalence of numbers. In the most basic of senses, items all have a cost; as consumers, we pay that price, and the circle of financial life (i.e. supply and demand) continues on. As a general rule, it is believed that products that cost more tend to be constructed of (or viewed as constructed of) a higher quality than their more inexpensive counterparts. While this may not ring true for all merchandise, I can safely attest to its validity in more than one scenario in my own life. That being said, everyone seems to be thinking the same thing when it comes to the price tag of a product: The higher the number, the better.

The surprising (or perhaps the unsurprising, depending on who you are) thing is that this supposed logic does not stop at products. The Numeral Effect, as I like to call it, is everywhere. It's embedded in our salaries as members of the workforce; it's in our choice of post-secondary institution, in the form of college rankings and financial aid packages. It's even in how we measure our kids and their attempts in school: the higher, the better; the more, the better. 

It delegates and assigns numerical value on our ideals of self-worth. With standards like that, is it any wonder that some of us feel, well...worth less than our just-as-worthy and equivalent counterparts?

Take my summer job. Don't get me wrong: I love Porter's, and I deeply appreciate the opportunity to work there. My position as a full-time sales associate entitles me to two forms of payment in my bi-weekly check: an hourly wage and a commission, or a percentage of the sales I finalize. Don't let my official job title fool you - at Porter's, we emphasize the importance of customer service, and "customer before product" is a highly-regarded value. But there's a saying in sales: you make your own money...and it doesn't sit well with issues of customer service.

This past week alone, I have been accused of knowingly overcharging the significant other of one of my small town's most prominent businesses. I have been literally shouted at over the phone by a customer who had to shoot a wedding without the proper lighting equipment he had ordered from us.
I have taken the fall for a fellow co-worker who did not properly quote a customer and was "the bad guy" who breaks the news of the expensive extra fee. I have worked with a mentally afflicted walk-in customer when everyone else turned their backs on her. I have allowed an elderly gentleman to demean me for being helpful, yet in his eyes from different times, an inexperienced young woman working in a business meant for older, wiser, and more trustworthy men.

But the most fitting element of these mishaps was that I was never the associate who originally took, charged, or previously dealt with any of these orders and customers. While my fellow employees all increased their paychecks by selling products on commission and the employee camera spiff programs, I worked to solve difficult and sticky situations on the spot. Looking over the store's daily totals, is it any wonder that I feel inferior with my problem-solving skills when stacked next to the associate responsible for $2,000+ for that day? Is it any wonder I feel worth less as an employee somedays? The higher the number, the better...

But what about compassion? It can't be measured with a ruler or a scale; it can't be counted like Benjamins or Franklins. It sure can't be measured in the number of customer service problems, resolved or not. The Numeral Effect doesn't leave much room for compassion, but it sure as hell will leave room for $100,000 of sales, a $100,000 salary, or a $100,000 scholarship to college.

I've always had a problem with fairness. Perhaps I spent too much time as a child engrossed in storybooks, where everything always works out, versus reality, where not everything always does. I tell myself: "It only bothers you because you're scrounging up all the money you can for tuition. It'll be different when you're older, perhaps in a salaried position at McGraw-Hill or working with patients in a therapy setting. This worthless feeling will pass."

Maybe the feeling will pass; maybe it won't. I know, though, that the Numeral Effect can only get worse for us from here on out. Too much in our society revolves around numbers: costs, wages, amount of friends, time itself. We're moving too fast; we're too concerned with the concepts higher and more; we're assigning numerical value to our ideals of self-worth. We need to remember: numbers were our creation. Compassion was here first.

Words True

Say hello to all whom you love.

Reason #436

It brought me the security, safety, and love of a home when nowhere else could.

The Year of Firsts & Lasts:

Not too shabby.

you found it by the light of the moon;

but i -

i found it in you.

CONNege.

(Making good use of my $54,000 education)

Well, here we are - one month down! Somehow in these four weeks, college has gone from an awkwardly terrifying experience to one chock-full of adventures, mishaps, difficulties, and many sleepless nights...though not (yet) due to any academic all-nighters. Contrary to my previous beliefs, I've found myself actually enjoying it all. I have a solid and great group of friends; I've met so many interesting people; I find myself never experiencing a dull moment, which can be both a gift and a hidden curse. It's simple, yet seemingly impossible for my tiny brain to comprehend: I'm happy.

As of one day ago, I am also officially employed! I was recently hired as an Advancement Communications Intern for the Office of College Relations. Essentially, my job is to interview alumni about their current professions and how their experiences in the working world relate to their undergraduate education at Conn. I also have to attend the occasional banquet here and there to report on alumni attendance, events hosted by the college, etc. The hours are slim, but the opportunity sure isn't - it'll look great on my resume, and having a little extra cash around certainly won't hurt!

Classes, however, are difficult, and while I'd like to say that I'm up for the challenge, I'm actually not one hundred percent convinced. With European History, International Politics, the Idea of God, and Chinese all in one semester, my day-to-day schedule is jam-packed and leaves little to no room for breathing. I'm hoping to catch up on sleep and homework alike during our Fall Break - it runs from tomorrow afternoon through Monday, and as most of my friends will be leaving campus, it'll be a great time for me to buckle down without any distractions.

Honestly, in terms of new friendships...I never thought I'd see the day. I've met some pretty awesome people, and already I'm starting to see how it'll be hard for us to spend the summer away from each other. Living in such close proximity with others does something to a relationship - it creates intimacy out of seemingly nothing, forms friendships out of the smallest exchanges. There are people who, when I don't see them for an hour, I miss; there are people that I always want to be with, to talk to, to be in the same room as - even to do nothing with. There are people that intrigue me so much that I want to know their hopes, their dreams, their experiences, their lives outside of this college campus. It's a different kind of sensation than I've felt before, but I like it.

In fact, I'm finally at the place where I can say that I'm happy with where I am. I find myself wanting to 'catch up' with friends on campus if I only haven't seen them for a day; constantly texting and calling my friends back home has taken a step back in my life, allowing me to grow past the intense missing stage and settle into the growing one. I find myself thinking, "So...this is what they meant when they said college was the best experience of your life..."

Now, just to tackle that next philosophy paper...