Things People Don't Understand About Culinary Students.

We have real college degrees. 

We took English and math classes just like you.  I will not use my intro to physiology or religion classes in the kitchen, but I still had to take them. 

We love it when people cook for us.  

Please don't be scared to make us food.  We are food lovers not food critics.

We have weird names for things. 

"Robokus" are food processor.  "French" means knife. "Up at" means serve. "Side towels" are pot holders.  

We talk fast, use a lot of French terms, and don't measure.

Get used to it.

We laugh at one-use kitchen tools. 

Apple slicer? We have a knife for that.

We are passionate learners.

We learn best by mistakes, so expect some experiments that are disgusting or delicious... and if its good, don't ask us to replicate it the next night.  We weren't paying that much attention, we won't remember. 

We can work noon to midnight and still have energy to burn.

Our jobs are exciting and hard.  Adrenaline gets us through a shift and it hangs around for a few hours after.  If you want us to come home after work, we are gonna make noise... let us go out with the gang and grab food and drinks before we come home. 

We hate being still.

Don't ask us to sit till the job is done. 

We call things out.

"Sharp! Hot! Open! Behind! Hot and sloppy!" When we yell, pay attention.

We love people and serving them.

Which means working nights, weekends, and holidays.  Don't get upset about us missing Mothers Day... again. 

We hate doing dishes, but we hate not doing them.

Things have to be clean, and it drives us crazy when they aren't

We don't like people to touch our knives. Don't.

Our knives are an extension of our arms.  We know when they need to be sharpened, how they should be weighted, how the grip should be molded, and how we liked them cleaned.  Taking our knives is like taking away the keys from a teenager on their sixteenth birthday.  Expect some screaming. 

We will ask you to do things, but if you aren't fast enough, we will do them ourselves.

Don't get upset with us... we are just trying to get the job done.

We keep the sinks empty unless washing something.  

If we find something sharp hiding under the suds, you will get yelled at.

We have a flow.  

If you mess with it, we will get flustered.  It's just one of those weird ticks we have. 

We can be lewd, vulgar, insulting and obnoxious in the kitchen.

Take it into stride.  The kitchen can be a very stressful and dangerous place.  Even though we seem angry and upset, it is still one of our favorite places to be.

We are scarred.
In more ways than one. We are yelled at, harassed, questioned, and misunderstood even by the people who we love and who love us most.  Our hands also show the evidence, covered in burns and healed punctures, sometimes tattoos, and we are proud of them.

ALSO...

Your colorful knives are embarrassing.
Stop.

Beauty and Strength.

"You are beautiful. You are strong." 

I have heard these words a lot this week.  Compliments paid to me when I am helping someone with lab work or when I show up on the weekend to volunteer my time for an event.  Classmates ask me how I find the time to do everything, how I am strong enough to wake up before dawn every morning, even on my worst days.  How I never seem to let anyone know I am having a bad day. 

People believe that I am beautiful, happy, successful, and strong, but what do those even really mean.  What is beauty?  What is strength?

I don't feel beautiful, when my eyes rimmed with red and draped in purple. I don't feel strong when I break down in the middle of a classroom.  Beauty cannot be found in my hastily braided hair, and strength is not defined by hiding under the covers.

I am not beautiful.  I am not strong.  I am just a very good actress.

I keep a level head when people are counting on me, but I am put into a tailspin when I'm counting on myself to keep it together.  I try not to let people see me cry, I hide. That is not what I call strength.  I call that embarrassment, humiliation, weakness. Those are the words that come to mind when someone says nice things about me.  I smile at their ignorance about who I really am.  I never let the compliments sink in.

I smile. I work. I get the job done, but I'm crumbling.

To me, beauty means I am hiding behind God-given curls, mascara, and anything that will make it look like I got more than five hours of sleep.
To me, strength means I am hiding behind a smile and a convincing "I'm great."

I am not complimented by beauty or strength, because I see them for what they really are.  They are really just hiding.

So I am not beautiful, I am not strong.

I know these words aren't inspiring, I wish I could come up with some that are.  But today, as I am writing this, I look on in envy of those who seem to have their lives all together.

The ones who aren't crying in the middle of class.
The ones who are better at relationships.
The ones who don't need makeup to make them look flawless.

Then I realize, they are hiding too.  Just in a different way.  They don't struggle with everything that I do, but they have their own struggles they are hiding from the world.

So today, this post is to let any of you who feels crushed and weak know that you are not alone.  You are not the only one, you are not a bad person for crumbling, and it is okay to ask for help.  It is okay to just break down and need a hug, a bag of chocolate, and a day off every once and a while. And I promise you, you will be beautiful and strong again soon.