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“Please use feminine cursive handwriting to make it look lovely and pleasing for us to read later,” Mr. Song adds.
“I’m sorry, what?” I look up and around in panic, but luckily no one is even paying attention to me. As a rule, I try not to question the way people like to have things done, especially if they’re the experts. But this feels downright odd, old-fashioned, misogynistic, even.
My cheeks heat as my irritation spikes and I bite down on my tongue to keep my mouth shut.Just do it, I tell myself. Luckily, I do happen to have pretty nice penmanship. Even though I don’t remember the last time I’ve written anything by hand longer than scribbled notes on a random napkin.
I take the seat in the corner with my pen and paper. The entire meeting is spoken in a mix of both English and Korean, but curiously, not everyone at the table is Korean. I wonder if they all are required to learn Korean as part of their jobs here. I make a mental note to ask Sunny about this later.
I try my best to keep up, but I don’t know exactly what the most important bits are, and I’m worried about my Korean spelling since I’m unfamiliar with this level of business vocabulary.
If Elijah was the one here, would he have been asked to take notes and to do so in “feminine” writing? I highly doubt it. I tamp down the irritation growing within me.
When the meeting ends and everyone begins to disperse, I walk up to Mr. Song and hold out the pad. “Here you go. I think I got everything that was discussed,” I say.
He looks down as if I’m offering him trash. He raises his chin to Ms. Kang, who, if I remember correctly from the company organization chart I studied, is the Head of Marketing and in a more senior role than he is. But she hustles over and grabs the notes from me. “I’ll take those,” she says almost apologetically. “Why don’t you go around and collect the papers left on the table and put them through the shredder.”
I nod and do as I’m told. Why people print out so much information for a meeting only for it to be left behind and shredded later is beyond me. How many trees could have been saved if we just all used digital notes?
I notice the sheets are all stamped with “Confidential” across the top, and just below it, “Haneul Gaming: Fall Titles.” There are ten new video game titles with short descriptions and developer names listed. The final one reads “To Be Determined, Male, 13+.” These days, categorizing a game based on a binary gender system seems odd. My cousin Jasmine was recruited to UC Irvine’s E-sports team, full ride. Games aren’t just for those who identify as “male” anymore. But this isn’t the first time Haneul Corp has come across as outdated and out-of-touch. And it’s only day two.
Mr. Song turns to leave but just before he does, he looks over his shoulder. “Oh, and Miss Lee. The way you had your hair and makeup done on your first day is what’s appropriate and expected. Please make sure to keep that high standard of appearance in the workplace.” And he walks out.
My entire body freezes. Yesterday, my hair was worn down and curled. I had on more makeup than I’ve ever used except for when I went to prom. Oh, and both were done by a professional glam squad. What about that amount of overkill is more appropriate for the workplace?
“Korean beauty standards are as important here in the New York office as they are in the Seoul one,” Ms. Kang says. “If you have any questions, you can ask me. Or refer to Sunny to get the help you need.” I want to challenge this, or at the very least question it, but I remember what Elijah said last night. That no one cares what people our age think.
I’m not quite as pessimistic as he is. But I’ll also pick and choose my battles. Especially since I’m trying to lay low and not cause any trouble. I’m not going to HR and complaining on my second day. I just want to impress everyone and finish the summer with my recommendation letters in hand.
But am I really willing to be treated like this?
“Jessica?” Ms. Kang calls out, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yes?”
“If you have a moment...” Ms. Kang steps onto the elevator, signaling me to follow her. When the doors close, she remains facing forward but begins to speak in a low tone. “I’d like to go over your project assignment with you.” She turns her head ever so slightly so her eyes meet mine. “They wanted to give it to one of the junior execs, a guy with no drive or experience, but I insisted it would be better for you. We women get so few opportunities here, so make the most of it.”
My jaw is on the ground. A big project. Assigned to me instead of one of the men. This is all a lot to absorb. “Absolutely. I’m looking forward to hearing all the details and getting to work, Ms. Kang,” I say.
I sound like a butt-kisser, but I don’t care. It’s all true. I can’t wait to prove what I can do.
If I’m not mistaken, I catch a whisper of a smile from the very corner of Ms. Kang’s mouth. I amuse her. Great.
When the elevator doors open, any hint of emotion is erased from her face and she power walks down the hall to her office. I scuttle along behind her trying to keep up.
“So you’ll be in charge of what we call the AIP, the Annual Internship Project.” She drops the bomb as she closes the door then settles herself in her sleek leather office chair behind her all-glass executive desk. I’d whistle subtly under my breath...if I knew how to whistle...or how to do anything subtly. And then it hits me exactly what she just said.
“The Annual Internship Project? What is that exactly?” I ask.
“Well, it can be anything you want it to be, really. Last year they planned a black-tie fundraiser for all the executives, the proceeds going toward donating computers to some school somewhere. The year before that, I believe the project was a park cleanup day along the river. It’s up to you, and you’ll be managing all the other interns to pull it together.”
“A fundraiser? A park cleanup? Those are things the clubs at my high school could pull off. Haneul is a huge technology company. Surely we can aim bigger.” I cover my mouth with my hand. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
Ms. Kang raises an eyebrow but then she shakes her head and smiles. “Well, Jessica, I look forward to seeing what you can come up with. As far as details go, here’s the business plan that was pulled together last year as an example. There’s a lot of potential to, as you say, aim bigger, to do better. There should be some information about budget and timelines that might be useful to you.” Ms. Kang pushes a very thin binder across her desk toward me.
I’m still standing but suddenly feel like my legs might give out on me. This is a lot of responsibility for someone who’s been in a fake identity for all of two days. But it’s also the kind of project I’ve been dreaming about to prove what I’m capable of.
I take the binder and open it, ghosting my fingers down the tabs—there’s not much here. Ms. Kang continues. “It was written by last year’s executive trainee who truly did not care about the role or the project. He just wanted a summer in New York away from whoever his VIP father was. That seems to be the case every year. I’m hoping that you’ll be the one to finally break the mold, to try and come up with something fresh, nimble, creative. Show us what the next generation of Haneul Corp could look like.”
My eyes widen at the blank slate before me, at all the possibilities. What could we do to bring something new to Haneul Corp? My mind immediately recalls this morning’s meeting. Maybe some digital note-taking with a lot less misogyny for one. But that’s not what this is about.
