An MHS alumni shares thoughts on her first job in Merrill, leadership, and community
ESSAY BY AMBER SKIFF
CONTRIBUTOR
Most people remember their first job. They remember their boss, their sweat, and their first paycheck. I am no different. I started working at Hugo’s Pizza in Merrill when I was 14. Now, six years later, I’m a Junior in college, and what I remember most from my first job – what I remember with the most affection – is my boss, Colleen Bostrom. Colleen owns and manages Hugo’s and, more importantly, she is its heart and soul.
Colleen is a small, middle-aged woman. She’s hardly over five feet and nervous most of the time. She wears glasses and a hair net, and she micromanages every detail of her business, from the menus to the advertising to the black olives. She attends to details and doesn’t let anything leave the kitchen that she’s not personally proud of. She keeps a young staff, and they follow her every order, because the place would fall to chaos if they didn’t. I was one such young person on her staff, and I remember her intensity and thoroughness with a healthy fear. But I also remember the lessons she taught me and the heart for small business she shared with me.
Dignity, being part of a mission, building relationships
I love that Colleen always treats her work, her employees, and herself with dignity. One night, near the end of my shift, I was leaning over an industrial sink, scraping crusty mozzarella out of a five-gallon bucket with my fingernails, and I felt anything but dignified. But then Colleen shouted from across the kitchen: “It was a smooth night, huh? Everyone seemed happy.”
Her enthusiasm made me feel as if our work was somehow a grand mission, a mission to feed the masses of Merrill, and to put smiles on their faces. And somehow, the fact that I had played a part in accomplishing that mission – and played it well – gave me a sense of true productivity and personal satisfaction.
Colleen insists that every process at Hugo’s be accomplished by hand. I know, because it was often my hand. We chopped every green pepper and shredded every block of cheese. I remember gathering various produce scraps in a tub in the cooler that we affectionately called the chicken bucket. Every few weeks, a local farmer, Bonnie, would come to “poke her head in the back” and collect the chicken bucket. She would feed it to her hens and, in exchange, bring Colleen eggs and squash and tomatoes and whatever other ingredients were in abundance on her farm. When I was 15, I thought this exchange was just what we did to get rid of scraps. Now, I see that Colleen was building relationships with other working people and establishing her business in the community. I see the way she connects with other small business owners and pillars in the town. She understands that her success is tied to the success of the community; and now, I understand, too.
About pride and people
I love how Colleen takes pride in every pizza she makes. I’ve personally seen her fuss over the dough on the roller, the sauce on the stove, the onions on the cutting board. I remember that one week she obsessed over a three-star review some out-of-towner had given us on Yelp, and she asked me every night if I remembered what they ordered or if they had finished their meal. I imagine she had nightmares about that three-star review, and probably still does to this day.
Another time, a customer’s pizza was running late, and I hurried to the ovens to see if it was ready. I watched as Colleen pulled it out and placed it on her wooden table to cut and box it.
There was less than a square inch of burnt crust on the edge, and it almost sent Colleen into a panic. She put on her glasses and leaned in close with her pizza cutter, removing the burnt edge like a skillful surgeon. At the time, I rolled my eyes at her eccentricity, but today, I respect that her product is important to her. She won’t place any pizza less than perfect into the hands of a customer. At the heart of this obsession, though, is not a bottom line or a paycheck. The heart of her business is people.
Doing the hard things, honesty, and understanding
I love how Colleen does hard things, even when she doesn’t want to. I have never once seen her shrink before a challenge that she knew would make Hugo’s better and customers happier. As a teenage waitress, I knew how much she dreaded certain tasks – like dealing with unhappy customers. But one night, a middle-aged woman was yelling at me and asking to see my manager, and I had no option but to surrender and pull Colleen from the kitchen. I remember watching in awe while she looked the woman in the eyes and asked her to understand that we were unusually busy and understaffed. I was astounded when the monster – who I couldn’t appease with all my penitence and pleading – suddenly became human right before my eyes.
Colleen had won her to our side. She didn’t pacify her with gift certificates or empty apologies; she won her with honesty. Colleen thanked the woman, and we walked back to the kitchen. I gaped at her, impressed, while she took a deep breath and went back to work. I knew she hated de-escalating, but I also knew she was brilliant. To this day, when I have to face a situation that scares me, I don’t picture anything so glamorous as David facing Goliath or a soldier going to war. I see Colleen pushing her glasses to the top of her head and smoothing the front of her apron before speaking to a disgruntled customer.
Lessons learned: Working with heart
Sometimes, when I’m home for the holidays, I visit Hugo’s Pizza. I poke my head in the back and update Colleen about my college life. She is always happy to see me and says a few of those phrases all young people want to hear from the adults in their lives: “You’re going places.” “I’m proud of you.”
Seeing her reminds me of why I went to college in the first place. I went because I wanted an education and because I wanted to do well. I completed applications and filled out scholarship requests like Colleen rolls dough and chops green peppers. And I strive today to write my papers and read my textbooks the way she serves her customers and supports her community: with heart.
Amber Skiff is a 2019 graduate of Merrill High School (MHS), currently studying Humanities at Maranatha Baptist University. When she was recently home in Merrill for the holidays, “I was just reading the Foto News this morning and fell in love with my hometown all over again,” Skiff said in an email to the Foto News.
Along with her note, she submitted her essay about Hugo’s Pizza and its owner, Colleen Bostrom. “I worked for her my entire time at MHS and wanted to honor her leadership and service in the community,” Skiff said. “I think your readers would like to celebrate small business and strong community this time of year and would enjoy the essay.” We hope she’s right. After graduation, “I hope to be a technical writer for a nonprofit, such as a women’s center or domestic abuse shelter,” she said.