There’s a saying we grew up with in Hawai’i, which is don’t take our aloha for weakness. We love to show kindness, but that doesn’t mean that we will just roll over. One of the biggest lessons I ever learned about compensation, respect, and knowing my worth came from a time when someone did exactly that.
During COVID, I was working at the commissary on the Marine Corps Base in Kane’ohe. At $22 an hour, I was grateful, because not many grocery stores were paying that during such a chaotic time. I showed up every day with my work ethic, my experience, and the aloha spirit that I was raised with. I worked every corner of the store, learned fast, and people knew they could rely on me.
When the commissary planned to hire its own staff instead of using contractors, the manager pulled me into her office. She told me she wanted to consider me for the next tier of management, with a raise that would bump me up to $27 an hour. She said I had the energy, the knowledge, and the leadership. She asked me to start managing a team of 25 people, to train them, schedule them, organize them, run production, and keep the warehouse flowing.
I took on that kuleana (responsibility) seriously. Our department became one of the strongest in the store. We were even recognized at a regional meeting for the turnaround. And still, each time I asked when the promotion would be official, she told me the position was still being created. This happened at three separate times.
After that regional praise, I asked again. That’s when she finally admitted, the position would remain open to other candidates. She wanted me to return to being a stocker, after flipping the store around, and to continue doing all the manager-level work anyway. She promised a bonus that never came.
The next day, in a storewide meeting, the union rep said we should just be grateful to have a job, during a pandemic, and that if anyone had issues with not getting promoted, they could leave. Everyone knew that statement was aimed at me. So I stood up, and I walked out.
Some may consider that a bit unprofessional, and maybe it was, but that it was the first time I truly chose me. Compensation isn’t just a paycheck, it’s a sign of respect. It’s honesty. It’s recognition. Once those disappear, no dollar amount is worth your dignity.
This was the day I truly learned to know my worth.