Hi @Morgan,
I am Raul.
Oh yes, the firing part—I remember my first one well. If you like storytelling, here’s one for you—grab your coffee.
I was finishing high school, and my family turned around and said, “So, are you ready to work?” I replied, “Sure, but don’t I need to try university or at least technical college?” Their response was blunt: “Those aren’t options; they’re too expensive.”
I was 19 at the time, having moved from Mexico to the U.S. when I was 16. I had to finish high school in three years, adding to the one year I’d already completed in Mexico. Anyway, I started looking into what was best for me, where I could go for college, and what I could afford. I had a GPA of 3.0, but most schools were prohibitively expensive for international students.
After some discussion, my family said, “If you work, we’ll pay half your tuition as long as you can come up with the other half.” So, I started working—a long six months at a job that drained me every single day. I worked from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., sometimes until 10 p.m., always aiming for the goal. I barely had energy to go to church, let alone practice karate on Wednesdays.
Against all odds, I saved as much money as possible to pay for the cheapest college I could afford. One day, I was at my regular job loading the truck with containers—trash-can-sized ones—filled with fried corn tortillas to deliver to 13 restaurants across different counties.
The new manager approached me and said, “We need these beers delivered to the same restaurants.” At the time, I didn’t know he was dealing with his wife’s cancer, but now I realize I could’ve handled it better. Instead of agreeing immediately, I told him to ask the driver. The driver and I had a great relationship—we were like brothers from the same region in Mexico.
The manager insisted: “I’m telling you to put them in the truck.” I replied, “When the driver comes, you can tell him, and he’ll let me know.” When the driver arrived, he said, “Don’t worry about the manager; he’s new, and managing a restaurant isn’t the same as running a delivery operation. Let’s just do it—I already told him some bottles might break.”
So, we loaded the beer and started the deliveries. As expected, bottles broke during the ride. I even cut myself cleaning up the mess. We finished late that day.
By Friday, I was exhausted. I took Saturday off and returned Sunday for inventory checks. My coworkers told me not to worry about the manager and that everything would be fine.
Monday morning came. I was on time, loading the same containers as usual. Everyone joked about the beer incident, and I joked back. Then the manager arrived, greeted everyone except me, and said, “Raul, come to my office.”
I asked, “Can I finish loading the truck first?” He shouted, “It’s an order!” Everyone froze. I followed him to the office.
In his office, he asked, “Are you happy working here?” I said, “Yes.” He continued, “I’ve noticed you’ve been rejecting my commands.” I replied, “It’s not my place to take direct orders from you; I work for the driver, who works for you, and you work for someone else.”
He responded, “Well, we won’t be needing your help anymore.” I said, “Okay, so this is it?” He confirmed. I told him I’d be back the next day for my check. He said to wait for his call, but I insisted, “I’ll come tomorrow for it.”
I went back to the warehouse, said my goodbyes, and left. The next day, I picked up my check, thanked them, and left like the place was on fire.
Later that week, I got a call. The manager had to take over the driving, another warehouse worker had to help him, and the manager was under disciplinary review. They offered me my job back with better pay, but I refused.
At the same time, I was dealing with school entrance exams, finding teaching hours, buying books, and processing endless paperwork. Then my family told me they couldn’t help with tuition anymore. It hurt, and I was left jobless, spending time playing video games with friends in Mexico while we talked about life.
I took every opportunity, the good and the bad, and learned that I wasn’t cut out for jobs like that. Little by little, I transitioned into freelancing and tech work. But it doesn’t stop there—who knows what else God has planned for me?
I trust Him and find contentment in what I have. It might sound corny, but my relationship with God keeps me grounded. There’s more joy in giving than in receiving, and that’s what keeps me moving forward.
So, here’s my story for you. Keep trying, and good things will come your way.
Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Don’t crumble like a flower. Endure, face your challenges, and be thankful—this is how you grow stronger.
Raul, from a corner near Oaxaca Town.
:)
