The Extra Mile(s)

ALANA MASSEY

French is the only official foreign language I speak according to my résumé, but I am also fluent in the rarer and more mysterious tongue of job boards. Littered with platitudes and euphemisms and code words for unforeseen labor, they all demand just a little more than they appear to and cloak these demands in requests for good attitudes. As I would come to learn in May of 2007 when I was fresh off a B.A. in history from NYU, entry-level roles are especially susceptible to being written deceptively. I applied to countless administrative and junior roles after ticking off the requisite Microsoft and Adobe programs and the basic computer skills I'd had since childhood. But following all of these hard and fast skills were qualifications like "Ready to do what it takes to get the job done," "Willing to go the extra mile for their team," and the rather ominous "Clock-watchers need not apply."

I became the executive assistant to the CEO of a successful snack food enterprise and a burgeoning nonprofit with three international offices and hugely ambitious plans for expansion the year I joined. I dove headlong into calendar and e-mail management, foolishly believing that the kind of man who could both ascend to power in the cutthroat world of gourmet snacks and make a name for himself in philanthropy could be tamed by my meek attempts to quell his entrepreneurial spirit for long enough to make conference calls on time. My polite reminders in Outlook and my timid knocks at his office door while he was bellowing into the phone went largely ignored.

While he brushed off my attempts to perform my basic duties, he sent long late-night e-mails elaborating his plans to start a blog that I would serve as ghostwriter for. I am ready to do what it takes to get the job done. One night he demanded that the communications director and I renegotiate the price of the lapel pins of our logo with a manufacturer in China on the eve of an important national holiday there and well after midnight in our offices. I will not be a clock-watcher, I will not be a clock-watcher. I was flattered by his confidence that I could handle roles beyond the administrative ones for which I was hired as I scripted public service announcements for A-list celebrity speakers and managed production from across the country. I am going the extra mile.

After three months, my provisional status was supposed to come under review and move me from contract employee to full-time. My boss rescheduled the meeting three times before finally calling me in his office to discuss my progress. Instead of letting me summarize my accomplishments, he gave a hasty little speech on how he wanted to watch my performance in the lead-up to a big event before committing to taking me on full-time. I swear on my mother's good name, he winked at me as he delivered this verdict. Floored by his failure to see the value of my labor but obstinate in my need to prove myself, I threw myself into more work. I went miles beyond the extra miles. I did what it took. I kept my eyes off the clock and not just because I could hardly keep them open by the time I left the office.

On a Saturday night, I had a friend over for drinks, and when my boss called my cell phone after midnight, I reflexively jumped away from the phone. I burst into tears at seeing his name flash across the display and stood away from it, as if he might peer out of the screen to see me momentarily enjoying myself and scorn me accordingly when we were face-to-face again. It took being witnessed by outside observers to realize the extent to which I'd let myself be consumed and defeated in the effort to prove I was ready to do what it takes.

I quit the following week. My boss dramatically begged me to stay, even initially refusing my resignation. Rather than his usual custom of simply shouting me into his office when he wanted to talk, he sent me calendar invites to discuss how we might make the role work for me. He recited a litany of the vital things I offered the office for much of the time we'd allotted for the meeting. I sat politely and listened attentively despite my now unflinching resolve to leave. I watched the clock behind him strike 5:00 P.M., the end time of our meeting, and stood to leave. I thanked him for the opportunity and headed out the door, traveling no more and no less than the 2.1 miles it took on my bike to get me from the office back home.

What isn't immediately apparent about those personality traits listed in job descriptions is that they are designed to be self-perpetuating. Once you do what it takes the first time, you're groomed to do even more the next time. And the first extra mile is just the first leg of the race. If you're willing to go the extra mile often enough, you find yourself lost and alone, so focused on the task at hand that you've forgotten where the clocks are, even if you wanted to watch them. These descriptions are meant to flatter young people who will agree that they are the tenacious types who roll up their sleeves and prove themselves, which is just a rosy way to describe the extraction of labor from a person without paying fairly for it.

The...