Brooklyn, a young, passionate marketing associate with a keen mind and an aura of ambition, was the newest employee at my company. She was polished, well-dressed, and constantly trying to make an impression. She looked like a fantastic hiring at first.
However, I heard something one afternoon that caused me to doubt everything about her.
Brooklyn’s voice came while Rosa, the cleaning lady, was silently scrubbing the conference room table.
“What on earth have you done?” With her hands firmly on her hips, Brooklyn snarled. “The glass is now completely ruined since you left smudges on it. Are you aware of the embarrassment this has caused the company? For this, I’ll see to it that you get fired!
As Brooklyn’s rant went on, Rosa stood motionless, her head lowered. Evidently too embarrassed to reply, her hands trembled a little as she gripped the cleaning cloth.
“Brooklyn,” I stated firmly as I entered the room. “What’s happening here?”
Brooklyn’s face went pale as she jumped. “Oh, nothing! “Just a little miscommunication,” she muttered, her voice suddenly honey-sweet. “I just wanted to provide some feedback.”
“Is that correct?” I narrowed my eyes in response.
Brooklyn hurried me out of the room, trying to hide her actions with nervous conversation. I couldn’t get rid of the picture of her scolding Rosa in that way, though, so the damage was done
I grabbed Rosa when she was heading out for the day later that night. I was concerned about her well-being.
I said softly, “Rosa, may I speak with you for a minute?”
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. She said, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
I reassured her that she had nothing to apologize for. “But why would Brooklyn say that to you?”
Rosa paused, then let out a sigh. With great emotion in her voice, she said, “Brooklyn is my daughter.” “I’ve embarrassed her.” She believes that having a cleaning lady for a mother will damage her reputation at work. I informed her that I wanted no special treatment, but She wiped away her tears and trailed off.
I was taken aback by the realization. I reflected on my own childhood, how I had always been proud of my parents’ efforts and how they had worked so hard to provide me with a better life. Brooklyn needs to learn thankfulness as well as respect.
The Ball for Charity
The annual charity ball, a glitzy occasion when staff members could network and showcase their accomplishments, took place the next evening. For weeks, Brooklyn had been excitedly discussing it in hopes of establishing relationships and winning over superiors.
She came, wearing a glittering gown and high heels, and looked around for me, her boss. However, when she saw me enter with Rosa on my arm, her self-assured smile wavered.
“Good evening to all of you,” I said to the group. “I want to present a very remarkable person. This is Brooklyn’s mother and our housekeeper, Rosa. She deserves every bit of respect since she is the reason Brooklyn is here today, working for us.
As whispers echoed through the crowd, Brooklyn’s cheeks flushed.
I went on, “Rosa puts in more effort than anyone I know.” “She serves as a reminder that no job is beneath us and that we are completely dependent on those who support our success.”
Rosa was both ashamed and proud as the audience erupted in cheers.
Unable to face the audience or her own remorse, Brooklyn slipped out of the room.
A Modified Viewpoint
Brooklyn arrived at my workplace the following morning, her eyes stained with tears. “I apologize,” she replied quietly. “I forgot to be proud of my mother because I’ve been so ashamed of my background. She is the most diligent person I know, and I mistreated her.
I told her, “I hope this has taught you something.” “Pride comes from accepting who you are and where you’ve come from, not from trying to be someone you’re not.”
Brooklyn nodded, and later that day I saw her, laughing and talking as a daughter should, helping Rosa clean the conference room.
Life has a way of making us humble at times. Although Brooklyn had to learn the hard way, the important thing was that she did.