My name is Rebekkah. I’ve worked for KinderCare for almost four years now, and May is a meaningful month for me. It’s Mental Health Awareness Month, and I’d like to tell you my story.
This will be a long one, so stick with me.
I’ve struggled with my mental health since I can remember. As a kid, I once sobbed to my mother that “I can’t make my thoughts stop being so loud.” I can remember being so heavy I could barely move, and I used to hope I would get sick just so I’d have a reason why I felt so awful all the time.
All of this ended up with me in some deeply traumatizing situations in my teens that made all of it worse. Eventually, I got out of it (and thank you, mom and dad, for all the therapy afterwards).
For a long while, things got better. I knew I wanted to be a fiction writer and wasn’t much interested in “running the rat race” to make a typical career, so after college I wandered between jobs. Mostly in retail (and I firmly believe everyone needs to work a stint in customer service during a holiday season. Be nice to retail workers).
My first job at KinderCare was as a temp worker on the Talent Acquisition team. I helped make sure people were hired correctly in our applicant-tracking system with two other temp workers, overseen by Meryl and the TA Coordinators. We dutifully copy+pasted requisition numbers and went through our hire checklists---and had deeply philosophical conversations daily about history, race, and identity. I’ll never forget the time and discussions we had in that room.
After my assignment ended, I wouldn’t step inside KinderCare for another year. In my next temp positions, I discovered a whole new world in corporate culture, and not a good one. After my experience at KinderCare I’d assumed that respect, kindness, and appreciation were a given in a workplace—and boy, did I get shown otherwise.
Needless to say, when Meryl asked if I wanted to come back next Back to School season, I jumped for the chance. This time my temporary assignment became permanent: similar to before, I navigated our applicant-tracking technology, directly supporting the Field Leadership Recruiters.
I felt appreciated and respected. Listened to and a part of a culture that seemed to put it’s money where it’s mouth is. My experiences as a teenager left me with some uncertainties on how to navigate social situations, but I could ask and learn how to be a professional without feeling foolish.
Then things started to slip. You may not know this, but there’s a cycle for those who experience trauma when their minds are developing. Even with all the therapy and help in the world, sometimes… it just comes back. And it comes back different, so all those coping skills are useless now.
I’m not sure how much Meryl suspected or understood about that time. I didn’t know how to talk about what was going on with me, and didn’t want to, but that was okay. Work was still a safe space. I could call in sick if I needed, I could be quiet for the day, I could ask for what I needed.
I finally started getting help again right before the pandemic hit. That time was a strange mix, to be under the terror of my loved ones dying while feeling such relief working from home, to begin a round of a soul-exhausting self analysis while experiencing the relief of antidepressants for the first time.
Mid-year 2020, Meryl advocated for me and my writing skills to help out on the Talent Attraction team. I started out by just writing copy and email campaigns, and to my shock, I discovered a whole new passion—that went beyond just writing. Derek, who would officially become my boss in April 2021, gave me the support, freedom, and trust that encouraged me to thrive in this space. When Derek left (for an amazing opportunity at On Running) I joked that he’d changed my life, but I wasn’t joking.
I’m still on the Talent Attraction team, which has grown exponentially over the past year, and it continues to add positive to my life. I’m also not the only one who struggles with their mental health on my team. But on the bad days, work is a place where I can seek comfort and support, and my colleagues do the same in return.
This is why I work at KinderCare.
Because Meryl made space for me, remembered my passions, and sought new opportunities for me to learn and expand my skills.
Because when I made an offhand joke about “just doing as I’m told” in a workplace, Travis (the boss’ boss) recoiled with a “Don’t listen to whoever told you that! Your opinions matter here and you can always talk to any of us.”
Because Derek saw potential in me that he actively fostered, and it opened up a path for me I couldn’t have imagined before.
Because when I embarrassingly burst into tears (about personal issues) on the very first official meeting with my newest boss Carey, all she responded with was understanding and compassion.
Because despite the pandemic becoming endemic, KinderCare’s leadership isn’t making us go back to the office, meaning I have breathing room working from home.
Because in our team, all someone has to say is “bad day,” and we all make extra space and kindness.
KinderCare isn’t perfect. No company ever will be. But in my experience, KinderCare is filled with people who make—and have made—my life and mental health better.
This is why I work at KinderCare.
