It was a cloudy Saturday evening and the stars barely shone. The crickets went out of hiding and started a chorus among the orange fallen leaves. Moira and Neesa sat down in a dimly-lit café, notebooks and a laptop in front of them as they sipped their beverages. There was jazz music playing softly in the background.

“Here we go, Moira. Let’s brainstorm and make a bullet list of things you want to tell Dr. Kinoya so that I can better understand how to help you draft the email,” Neesa began patiently.

“Well, I guess I want to start by disclosing my developmental disorder so that he wouldn’t be caught unprepared when we finally meet in person. From there, I want to ask him what types of previous employment he would suggest for someone who aims to become a candidate for a position with his research fellowship. You see, the thing is that I am not even sure I am employable. I mean, I might be able to get a job at a pizza parlor or as a baby sitter, but those are minimum-wage and might not sound impressive, you feel me?” Moira blurted out.

“I feel you. Well, we can always go check the online job board to see what job opening suits you in our region but I think asking Dr. Kinoya for his opinion would be wise too,” Neesa put her hand on her chin, stroking it. “So, about your developmental disorder. What specifically do you need him to know? That you are socially awkward and have sensory processing issues? That you can be perceived as slow and might have delayed responses to questions that are asked out of the blue? That you have different cognitive abilities?” Neesa continued to narrow down the list.

“Yeah, those too, but mainly I want him to know that I have my own talents and my passion shouldn’t be dismissed just because of my disability. I also want to ask him if he has ever worked with anyone on the autism spectrum or anyone with Down syndrome or anything like that. I also want to know what he has done to discourage bullying in his classes because I do not want to be discriminated against or be left out or abused,” Moira explained.

The cousins worked diligently until the café’s closing hour, bouncing off ideas and typing and retyping words to make sure that the email had the right tone. They ordered more drinks to keep their spirits high and the elderly lady who owned the café sympathized with them and gave them two free plates of cheese-topped brownies. In the end, this was the email that the two girls came up with:

Dear Dr. Lee Kinoya,

My name is Moira Johnson and I heard about your research from my cousin Neesa, who shadowed one of your graduate assistants at the Blue orchid University of Xenobiology last summer for her high school-mandated internship. I am interested in the work you have done to study the almost-extinct hybrid species, the mighty Gaburs, and wonder if you can give me insights into what exactly you are looking for when you said you need a new freshman research assistant from a foreign planet for cultural exchange.

I have a developmental disorder that may affect my learning style and, if I get accepted by the university and take your classes you may need to work with me to make sure I receive reasonable accommodations, but I believe I should be given a fair shot in applying for the program. Neesa mentioned that you prefer someone with multiple job experiences, but I do not currently have any and I am looking for a job that someone with my disability can realistically excel in.

To give you more context, please let me elaborate on my strength and weakness. Ever since my sophomore year, I have volunteered in my high school’s laboratory as my teacher’s helper as she grades my peers’ weekly reports on chemistry and physics experiments. I also like painting and have my own art studio at home. However, despite my interests in science and my artistic tendency, I do not always function well socially and have had cases where I offended people due to misunderstanding. I also find direct eye contact terrifying and might misconstrue what someone says to me as I am still learning to deduce subtle non-verbal clues. Because of all those obstacles, if I do get a job I would like it to be something that satisfies me academically but is not too draining on me to the point that I have meltdowns.

Thank you for any guidance you might be able to offer.

Respectfully,

Moira Johnson

It was another three weeks before Dr. Kinoya responded to Moira’s inquiry and all the while Moira was disheartened, thinking that she had blown her chance by making a cultural faux pas. Neesa did her best to assuage Moira’s concerns by telling her that she did nothing to give Dr. Kinoya an unfavorable impression of herself, but Moira was still upset. Then, one Friday evening, Neesa’s phone rang. Dr. Kinoya had requested to talk to Moira privately! Moira’s heart skipped a beat and her palms began to sweat, but Neesa would not hear any of her excuses and shoved the phone into Moira’s hand, giving her a mischievous wink.

“Hello, Moira, this is Dr. Kinoya, but no need to be formal, just call me Lee. I apologize for not responding earlier, but I have been swamped as it was midterm season at the university. So, I am calling to tell you that I know someone who might be willing to give you your first job,” a manly voice spoke on the other side of the line.

“Oh, so it’s okay to call you Lee? Well, Lee, thank you for reading my e-mail, I had thought that maybe you wouldn’t bother to help me. I would like to know more about the job, please. Is this something I can do remotely?” Moira asked, still pretty unsure if this was not just a prank.

“You are in luck, Moira. This is something you can do in your backyard. Well, not literally, but the location of the job is just a stone throw away from your high school. My nephew Kenta is conducting a study of a native plant in White Banyan and as it turns out this plant is something that only grows in your town during snowfall! Kenta already books an apartment near your high school and he is coming this winter and said he wouldn’t mind having an apprentice to help him with his doctoral dissertation. So, what do you think? I know that your specialties are chemistry and physics, not plant biology, but I believe it is good to branch out,” Lee spoke very casually that he put Moira at ease.

“Did you tell Kenta about my disability yet? He truly does not mind? Is he a good person? Can you vouch for him?” Moira’s questions came one after another because she was anxious.

“You have nothing to worry about! In fact, Kenta is disabled himself and instead of being ashamed of it he has made it a part of his identity. He wears two sets of cochlear implants because he is deaf, so he knows firsthand how it feels to be mocked and made fun of just because of something he has no choice in. He is approachable and he does have high standard for people he is willing to work with, but he is not going to be judgmental about you if that is what you are afraid of. If he gives you troubles, just let me know and I will sort that out with him. Well?” Lee explained cautiously as he understood why Moira might be inclined not to trust strangers.

“I see. Could you give Kenta my email address or my number, then, so that he knows how to reach me?” Moira began to feel safer about opening up although she was still uncertain about whether she would seriously take the job offer into consideration.

“Yes, sure. Moira, there is something else you need to know about how selective I am in choosing who gets to be my freshman research assistant. I have to be discerning because I take great pride in the quality of my work and I want someone with the same work ethics. To ensure that I am only recruiting the crème de la crème, I require that all applicants submit at least seven letters of recommendations from their employers. The letters can be written at different stages of employments because I want to see the applicants’ personal growth as employees, but they have to come from at least three different employers, got it? Kenta can be your first employer, but I want you to get two more different, unrelated jobs. Forgive me for being strict, but I can’t give you an exemption just because of your disability. I can, however, take your disability into account when I read from your employers how you perform your duties. So, don’t worry too much about your performance on the jobs, just get two additional jobs and if you do then it would signal to me that you are not joking around when you say you want to get into Blue Orchid,” Lee gave further explanation on what he expected.

Moira felt a chill down her spine, not because she thought Lee had asked for the impossible, but because, aside from Neesa’s parents and her teacher Ms. Roberts, she was not used to grown-ups treating her like a teenager instead of a child. Deep down, she felt grateful that Lee did not give her any exception on the basis of her disability alone.

“Thank you very much, Lee. Do you have a deadline on when I should submit those letters of recommendation? How long should each letter be? Do I get to read the letters or would that be unethical?” Moira was careful to cover all of her bases.

“Each letter should be approximately only half a page long because any longer and it would feel insincere. I would expect the letters to arrive in my office at least four weeks before the start of this spring semester. I want the letters to be submitted to me directly from your employers in tightly sealed envelopes and no, you may not read what they write. It is not because I believe you would cheat and change the wording, but it is because I genuinely believe if you have good relationships with your employers then they would give you good feedbacks and so you wouldn’t have to even read the letters to know that they would recommend you enthusiastically. Does it make sense?” Lee asked Moira back.

“Understood. I promise to give this my all!” Moira crossed her fingers.

“I am glad to hear that. Okay, good luck. I have to go now, but have a good night,” Lee ended the call and Moira, still giddy from the conversation, jumped up and down to Neesa’s amusement. Uncle Martin and Aunt Zoe had eavesdropped and they were proud of Moira for taking the first step in making sure that she knew what she needed to do next.