“Nothing Wowed Me”
“Nothing Wowed Me” is an abstract acrylic painting on paper by Briana Raucci. This abstract represents the faces of people who try to make others feel inferior.
I sat in shock. I went to the agency under the guise that if I put myself out there, you would help me make creative connections. I made a mistake. I missed something. I believed in the best of you. I believed that you wanted to help me. But I was naive – or so you thought. You thought I’d crumble. You thought I’d question my worth. You thought you could make me feel inferior.
You asked me about my portfolio, saying, “Do you even make enough money on photography to keep it, or is it just a hobby – because you should get rid of it.” I smiled and I told you I do. That was a lie – I don’t make enough money. Not yet. I’m not looking to make money to live lavishly or feel superior to others. I’m looking to make enough money to cover my medical bills and not cry that I’m in pain and can’t afford more doctor’s appointments. What I didn’t tell you is despite that, people still buy my prints. I take pictures of things and people find them beautiful enough to hang them in their homes. People enjoy my work enough to hire me for special occasions in their lives. Seeing the beauty in life isn’t a hobby, it’s the very way in which I choose to live my life. I choose to see beyond the ugly things that people like you make people like me feel.
I saw multiple new job postings at your company and you told me that they are always posted. You said that you keep the postings up, but they mean nothing. Then, you immediately contradicted yourself saying you recently found a person who seemed like a culture fit for the company. You mentioned that you didn’t have a job opening for him, so you created one anyway.
When I asked if you support remote work, you said no, “We need to look over people's shoulders and see what they’re doing.” When I asked if you had any freelance opportunities available, you said “I don’t hire freelance people”, and that “everything should be done in-house”. You told me “An agency would never hire a full-time photographer”, and shortly after, mentioned that you were working with a freelance photographer for a project at the agency. So which is it? Do you hire freelancers or not? Seems like you do. Do you do everything in-house? Because you just told me you don’t.
The way you underestimate my intelligence is insulting. The way you lie to my face instead of being a man and saying “I’m not hiring you”, is pathetic. Instead, you try to make me feel that my work isn’t good enough. My work is too good to be wasted on someone like you. Someone who wishes to put others down to feel better about yourself.
You told me the writing section of my portfolio wasn’t good and I should get rid of it. I smiled because I know I get hundreds of views from all over the globe, reading my article about Diversity in Star Wars. I smiled because I’m using my talents and my life experience to present ideas that able-bodied people may not think about. I smiled because I voiced the challenges of women, and I smiled because it’s inconvenient for you to hear that. I smiled because I know I’m making a difference, and you don’t like it.
You told me no one wants to hire a “jack of all trades, master of none” like me, and proceeded to fail in finishing the latter half of that sentence. A “jack of all trades, master of none, but often times better than a master of one.” When I pointed this out and mentioned that I did in fact have multiple skills, as well as a master of science degree in interactive media and communications, with a concentration in user experience design, you told me “It doesn’t matter” and you “don’t count student work because you have two weeks to complete something that you’d have 2 days to complete at the agency.” Meanwhile, you don’t realize that I achieved a 4.0 GPA while working a full-time job, dealing with a full-time disability, and completed a 75-page master's thesis advocating for accessibility for people with epilepsy.
You told me UX isn’t pretty and you said “Don’t make me think,” simply naming the title of a book to sound like you actually know what that means. You thought I wouldn’t notice your word salad. You said “Don’t make me think” because you wanted to sound smart and it shows me how little you actually do think. You proved how arrogant and small-minded you are. You pretended to look at my portfolio and then couldn’t tell me a single detail about my UX section. You proved to me that your idea of user experience is a buzzword to you. You proved to me you know nothing about it. You proved to me you don’t think at all.
When I asked what I did right, you said nothing. “Nothing wowed me.” You told me I made it my “own style” and you “can’t judge that because it’s your style and I don’t have to like it.” You’re right, you don’t have to like it, and I’m glad you don’t. My work is intended for those who want to grow, and be better. Nothing wowed you? Sorry to hear that. I wow myself every day.
It blows my mind that from my very first breath, I was handed a challenge that would follow me for the entirety of my life. I was handed a body that doesn’t function the way it’s supposed to. But guess what? I make it work. I wow myself every time I look at my MRI. I see that I’ve successfully earned 3 degrees on 7/8th of a brain. I see that picture of my brain and I wow myself when I think of everything I’ve accomplished despite being handed not the easiest deck of cards.
I wow myself thinking about every job I’ve had, how my disabilities were made to be a problem at them, and how I handled them with grace, integrity, and strength. I wow myself every time I think about how hard it was for me to advocate for my disabilities, even when my workplace said “I looked normal.” I wow myself every time I think about the fact that I won two discrimination lawsuits without a lawyer because I’m so meticulous in taking note of every injustice and every offense that people like you commit and think you can get away with.
I wow myself every time I choose to love myself when people like you want me to hate myself. I wow myself for having the restraint not to call your name out personally and drag you for the nasty words you said to me with a fucking smile on your face. I wow myself every time I make it another day. I wow myself every time I get myself out of bed, take my medicine, brush my teeth, wash my face, do my exercises, deal with pain, put a heating pad on, use a tens unit, go to 15 different medical specialists, challenge my own negative thinking, and try to continue to better myself on a daily basis.
I wow myself every time I look at people like you in the eyes and don’t say “You’re a fucking asshole,” but instead smile, give you kindness, and allow your utter ignorance to fuel and empower me to continue to work harder than you ever will. I wow myself every time I present people with grace instead of spitting in their face. I wow myself every time I choose empathy over hatred. I wow myself every time I accept that I’m allowed to be sad, angry, or hurt, and then let those feelings flow out of me and channel them into something beautiful, creative, and productive.
“Nothing wowed me” repeats in my head. It replays and replays, and reminds me of my other favorite comment from another agency prick like yourself. The last time we worked together, your boss asked me what I wanted to do with my master's degree. I told him that I want to make things accessible for all users, so that people of all different abilities have access to the same things, creating a more equitable user experience. His words were even better than “Nothing wowed me.” That man looked me in the eyes and said “You don’t know anything about user experience design, all you know is buzzwords like accessibility.”
I stood shocked. What an insanely arrogant and priceless thing to say, especially to me. And to say it in such a pompous way made it even more laughable. It amazed me that a man about 9 years older than me, having 9 more years of experience on planet Earth, thought accessibility was a buzzword. What a privilege to have never heard that word before. What a privilege to have never had to consider accessibility before joining a creative agency. Accessibility has affected me every day, every minute, and every second of my life.
I wow myself every time I think of these things that men have said to me how I choose not to be sad about them. I wow myself that I choose to allow these words to wash over me and gift me the deepest sense of empowerment. No one can take from me the struggles I’ve had. No one can take away my successes. No one can take away even the smallest of my achievements. Sometimes my achievements are moving from the couch to the bathroom without needing help getting up. Sometimes my achievements are selling my art, obtaining an education, or walking and talking when doctors said I never would.
I wow myself every time I realize that people with disabilities are so powerful because we’ve had to be, just to live. I wow myself that I had the strength to stand up to bullies, whether they were young men bullying young women in my youth, or the male professor who made fun of a female student behind her back in a classroom of impressionable undergraduates.
I wow myself every time I think about how hard I am working to start my own business, despite the cards being stacked against me. Despite the educational system manipulating my generation into predatory student loans and being in debt, despite the medical system forcing me to spend nearly every dollar I make on my medications and health appointments, despite my disabilities, despite my rights as a woman ACTIVELY being taken away by men. I wow myself every time I remind myself that I’m not as small as you.
I wow myself when I recall doctors trying to gaslight me since I was 12 years old and how strong I’ve had to be to keep going. I’d go to them expressing the extreme pain in my uterus and watch them look me in the eyes and tell me I was “dramatic” and it was “normal.” While still searching for relief at 18 years old, a male GYN suggested that I should “just get pregnant”, despite my having a disability, no significant other, no degree; no money, and living at home. That man also said that I was at my “peak” and “should take advantage of it” because at 18 it was downhill from there. He did not address my pain whatsoever. I wow myself that I persevered until I was 32 years old, dealing with pain that prevented me from working, and would make me scream, lose my breath, cry, and pass out it was so extreme. I wow myself that after 20 years and 11 doctors, my suffering was finally validated with a Stage IV Endometriosis diagnosis. I feel like a fucking warrior.
Fuck your title. I don’t give a fuck that my portfolio didn’t wow you. I’m proud of my art. I’m proud of finding my voice. I’m grateful for every single person who’s doubted me or tried to make me doubt myself. I’m grateful for every person who reminds me that I am worthy, I do work hard, and I am talented.
I wow myself whenever I accept my imperfections and admit that I know nothing. I’m proud of myself. I know that despite my faults I know in the depths of my heart that I always try to be the best person I can be. I always try to do the right thing. I always try to be accepting of others. I always try to see the beauty even in the ugliest of moments. I always try to see the good in people. I always try to lead with empathy.
Thank you for telling me that nothing I’ve created wowed you. Thank you for forcing me to realize the power I hold over you. Thank you for showing me the strength I’ve always known I have and that people like you try to take away from me. I’m not perfect, my portfolio isn’t perfect. I’m not the best at anything I do, but man, I fucking wow myself, and I don’t give a fuck if I wow you.
My greatest accomplishment in this life is living it. Thank you, and fuck you. I wow myself.
