By Neal Lemery
“Every time you do a good deed, you shine the light a little farther into the dark,” — Charles DeLint.
My world recently brightened up, all due to the kindness of a stranger, a hard-working and talented government worker. I needed a particular certification from a state agency, and the process compelled me to sign up for a three-hour class and an exam, as well as filling out the application on line.
I plunged into the process, my day otherwise quiet, a time between holidays, the weather wet and windy. I needed to set up an account, a user name, and a password, and then begin my online classes. Yet, the program didn’t let me access the classes or even get into my new account. The process involved a variety of security questions and complex passwords, a not unfamiliar pattern in this age of technology and “convenient, efficient” computerization of what used to be dealing with paper applications. As we all know, “convenient” is a relative term.
Finally, after an hour of frustration, I e-mailed the agency and soon received a helpful response. Still, I kept hitting a brick wall and wrote another e-mail, seeking some more direction and guidance. In a few minutes, my phone rang and a courteous worker, who soon became my guiding angel, took me by the virtual hand and walked me through the process.
It seems that the software platform also drove the agency’s workers nuts, and my plight was a common malady of the “new and improved” version of the software. We changed browsers, which sped up the process, and hand-copied my password. It seems the new and improved software, if left to its own devices, would delete my password and insert one of my answers to a security question, guaranteeing failure and no access. My angel helped me work around that disaster, and I soon was able to access the three hours of online classes.
When it came to finalize the completion of the classes and move on to the formal application for the desired certification and the qualifying exam, the last module of the class speedily identified the new web page link I was to go to, (information I couldn’t copy) but didn’t provide a button for the link, leaving me stranded in cyberspace. Nowhere in the module was an easy route to move ahead.
Yet another e-mail to my guiding angel quickly produced another work around, going back to the agency’s website and saying a forever goodbye to the private vendor’s online classes and module. With new directions and guidance, I was able to quickly access the application process and exam, and take and pass the exam with a 100% grade. This brought a cheer of jubilation and a happy dance around the dining room table and my laptop. My printer soon cranked out the desired certification. Success! My seven hours of labor finally came to an end.
It seems that this snafu is the norm, and the agency’s staff complaints are being echoed by applicants from the public. My e-mail of gratitude was forwarded to my angel’s supervisor, and my angel applauded my plan to write to the agency’s director. Enough is enough.
In this busy season, we all tend to be in a hurry and to experience glitches and irritating problems. Yet, I’ve seen many guiding angels at work, taking on and solving problems, calming crises, and bringing smiles again to irritated and frustrated customers and workers alike. Rules are often bent, protocols shortened, and people are helped on their way with a smile and a handshake.
Yes, there are joymakers and wish granters out and about this holiday season. But there are also the problem-solvers, the solution finders who are able to turn disaster and sometimes downright outrage, into a smooth and efficient process, taking on technology and lighting the candles of salvation and answers. It is to them that I give thanks during the holidays. The people with patience and the ability to get me to take a breath, to find the answers, and work my way through the perils of a “more efficient, convenient” process of getting the work done.
I’m working on my letter of complaint to the head of the agency, planning to lament about nearly impossible and unresponsive software. But, I’m also going to praise my guiding angel, who took the time and had the patience to transform my grousing and kvetching, my irritation and developing rage, into a satisfied customer and a successful applicant. That angel gets the gold stars this holiday season. They are my Santa Claus and Fairy Godmother.
