That’s what makes me different too. Despite my insecurities, I never thought to translate them into something hurtful or negative.
“Rosalie Mendoza?”
The employee doesn’t make eye contact when he says my name. His vision stays locked on the clipboard in front of him. For a split second, my nerves stand still. Just for a moment before I remember who I am, what I’ll be, and how, no matter what, Xion Group will only be a blip in the greater story of my life.
As I stand, I lean over to Jeremiah’s crestfallen face and whisper, “You’re only great when you make other people feel small. You don’t have the skills or the mindset to become successful, so you make other people shrink.That’swhat makes you a loser.”
The man at the door calls my name again, and I don’t look for Jeremiah’s reaction. I don’t care.
I have an interview to focus on.
Out of the three men sitting in front of me, only one feels wholly welcoming. Two of them stare down at my resume, then back at me, eyes pointed. Ironically, the only employee who hasn’t given me a look of skepticism is the one that forgoes introducing himself. He’s also the only Xion member I feel I’ve seen somewhere, but I know I’ve never interviewed with.
“Rosalie,” Mr. Barlowe, the department head who brought me in the room, addresses me with a raised brow. “Your career goals ultimately circle back to a desire in quantitative analysis, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
His smile is crooked. I don’t waste time asking myself it’s genuine or not. “Then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear about any quantitative analysis projects you’ve worked on during your time as a student.”
I smile back before plunging into a long-winded answer I must’ve studied over a hundred times.
Then, it cycles. Mr. Barlowe and his colleague, Mr. Carnegie, stare at me like I’ve walked off the streets lost and confused. They ask questions that either feel too juvenile for a prestigious internship like this or should be too complicated for a candidate to answer.
Even when it takes a stretch of silence to gather my thoughts, I produce something. I answer. My mind, just for a second, slips into a frustrated state of wondering why their interview is so off-balance.
I remember Dr. Adebayo. Locke. Myself. And as soon as that thought comes, it passes. My life and future are beyond worryingabout opinions of men who undermine my skillset without knowing it firsthand.
I’m barely wrapping up my personal approaches towards new quantitative techniques and tools when the unnamed third official finally speaks up.
“I have a bit of an unorthodox question.” His colleagues look at him, nodding, and I brace myself for the worst. “Why do you want this internship?”
The mental rolodex of answers I’m cycling through in my head stops. I’ve prepped for this interview in all the ways I know how—from tips and tricks videos online to decade old guidebooks—and the answer to this question was nowhere to be found.
The other two men tilt their head. I take a deep breath.
A few months ago, I think I would’ve answered this as professionally as possible. Claimed that I’ve been watching Xion Group’s growth as a company since I really knew what trading was and always felt aligned with them. Say I respect their core values of developing in an ever-growing industry and striving for more, even when they’re at their best.
None of that would be a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. I’m not sure if what I want to say is the right thing to say—if it’s what the three men in front of me want to hear.
My ears ring. The crumbs of my scared past remind me that getting this far was a feat, and it would be a waste if I threw it away now.
I let out a small, breathless laugh and correct myself. It wouldn’t be waste. Getting this far is an accomplishment in itself. I’m proud of that. Those facts alone were worth the hard work it took to get here.
What I choose to say, whether it helps or hurts me, will be well worth the integrity I’ll get to keep. I believe in myself andmy answer as it comes out, no matter how shaky my voice is. That’s what makes it the most rewarding.
“I want this internship because I deserve it.”
No one moves. Their faces stay stone-still and my posture is unshifting.
After a beat of silence, the same man asks, “You deserve it, you said?”
“Yes.” I don’t know how they’ll perceive me after this.
It doesn’t matter. You know what you’re worth, and that’s what’s important.
“I deserve this. I worked hard for it—harder than any of the other applicants you’re assessing for this role. I’ve worked tirelessly in my studies and pushed my mental health to exhaustion trying to fit into an industry that seems built to keep me out.
“To be honest, I’m frustrated constantly. It’s hard not to be when I’m so passionate about this career, despite the challenges unfairly set against me. I’m sure the experiences I’ve outlined through my application and resumé speak for themselves. I’m overqualified and underrepresented. I’m a woman of color, child of immigrants, and a first-generation college student. Those factors alone put me at a disadvantage to my male counterparts. Yet, I exceed them. I know I’m smarter, and more efficient, and entirely more professional, despite what everyone tries to make me believe.
