Turner Hester

As I entered my senior year of high school, I secured a job at a pizza restaurant. I worked with a diverse range of people from various backgrounds and learned more about myself and my interests during this time. I was tasked as a line cook aimed at making the best pizzas in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, my hometown. Despite offering earlier shifts, my boss always gave me the latest shifts because I was the newest employee. On weekdays, these shifts would last till around 11, taking up most of my summer nights with my friends. Additionally, on the weekends, I was tasked with working the graveyard shift that closed around 3am, not leaving the restaurant till well past 4am many nights. These shifts were a straight-up grind. Most of the time, a man named David, who was on work release from prison, worked with me. During the long hours, I would hear stories from David while preparing the pizzas. These wild, almost fictional stories to a 17-year-old sheltered kid are still stories I remember and quote today. Despite having this positive outlook on this job now, I realized that this job was not for me. I noticed that in order for me to be happy with my work/education experience, I must live it with a community. The solidarity in the downtown pizza restaurant with just the crew for the graveyard's shifts were bonding, but it made me realize that in order for me to flourish and succeed in an area of my life, I excel with a group of people that are like-minded and ones I can share my experiences with.