Extern wasn't the best period of time in my life. The first day was short, exhausting but somewhat promising. I received a walk through of the day, glazed some donuts and was shown how to ice an enormous seven layer cake, but after trying it myself I was arrogantly told with a satisfied smirk that I had done it wrong. However, as the weeks passed by and I struggled more and more with cake icing as well as cutting things. I would be teased for not being able to ice over 700 black and white cookies in under an hour, even though it had been my first time doing such a thing. One difficult day I was unable to cut fresh from the deep freezer brownies perfectly, I was yelled at for 10 minutes before I was able to make a meek attempt to explain to him why I had such difficulties doing such things. When he sneered at my explanation for my poor hand muscles (the only way I was able to explain it) I gave up, starting to doubt even my own reasons. I fought tears at work almost everyday, not knowing how to get myself out of the situation, or explain to them why I struggled so much, knowing they would neither believe me, nor care.
Daily two of the brothers seemed to take turns to try and push me further and further, saying they were trying to make me develop a “thicker skin” and not “take crap from them anymore”. Whether it was calling me a “librarian”, cursing me as a baker, or other harassing remarks. If that wasn't bad enough, most of the other male workers were equally unkind and just as sexist, if not more sexist and harassing. I tried to get through work everyday doing the menial tasks assigned to me such as taking inventory in the walk in freezer, organizing sugar decorations or refilling sprinkle containers. The only hands on thing I would be doing was glazing and filling donuts, filling orders or stocking the bakery before they opened. Finally, halfway though my externship, Eric one of the brothers and the one who gave me the hardest time, pulled me aside and informed me he was changing my hours. I would now be working in the the back of the bakery where I would no longer be working under him, but with those who ran it, making and baking off products. He also suggested I rethink my career path before my parents invested anymore money in the school and my education. There was nothing I would muster up to defend myself. I accepted it and felt angry at myself and defeated.