I took my first job in the restaurant industry in 2011 during a year away from college, but it wasn’t until 2022 that I finally came into my own as a waiter. I was in my early twenties, and had gone through my first major breakup. I also had the privilege of going to a prestigious university that encouraged students to take time off for themselves or to pursue a major project (I was the former). Not knowing what to do and not having much of any work experience, I took a job at a chain restaurant where my uncle used to work and where he provided a good reference, and there it all began, at an entry position for the front of house: I became a host and a few months later, with insistence to my managers, became a server.
Though I went to Stanford University, my background didn’t fit the stereotype. First of all, I was local. I grew up in San Francisco, but was born in Honduras (I’m of the Dreamer generation, though I never applied for DACA — instead I applied for Temporary Protected Status, as it was available earlier for certain Central Americans). More specifically, I grew up in the Sunnydale Housing Projects, one of the most dangerous ghettos in the city at the time. Being undocumented, and thus unable to work legally, my family and I made a living selling clothes and knickknacks at various Bay Area flea markets. This was my work experience going into college…