Sasha Debevec-McKenney
In our new feature, “Digest,” Isthmus interviews unsung or behind-the-scenes members of the service industry and lets them speak for themselves.
Sasha Debevec-McKenney, 31, is a poet, an instructor at UW-Madison, and the current artist-in-residence at StartingBlock. She’s also a part-time server. She has worked at restaurants in New York City and Madison, including Willalby’s Cafe, Settle Down Tavern and Diner in WIlliamsburg, Brooklyn. Currently she works a couple lunch shifts a week at Morris Ramen. Originally from Connecticut, Debevec-McKenney moved to Madison in 2013 after graduating from Beloit College. She moved away to attend NYU where she got her master of fine arts in creative writing and returned in 2020. Vulnerable and energetic, she self-identifies as neurodivergent. Throughout the conversation, Sasha’s eyes are observant behind her round pink eyeglasses.
In New York, I worked at this place called Diner. And I basically only worked brunch and lunch shifts. And it was just really nice when you would have two people come in, and they're so hungover and you're like “I can help. I'm here to help you. I will get you some food, I will make sure that your coffee cup is always full. I will make sure your water cup is always full.
And that changed how I think about service in a lot of ways because it was kind of like “Hey, we're friends.” In some ways, it was totally fake. I felt like a professional there. I had the menu memorized. And I would wear a fun outfit. I felt like I was playing a part. That helped me especially because I was in grad school. And I love those people, but I need to have friends that have worked at a job before. You know, a lot of the people in my MFA program were 23-year-olds that went right from undergrad to grad school and they had never worked in the real world.
I was not emotionally strong enough to work at dinner. At breakfast, I'm so happy to take care of you. I understand on a biological human level why you need coffee. But when we're getting into dinner, and I'm tasting you on five wines and you're being an asshole, I can't do that. In New York, it wasn't that bad. In Madison, there are also some racial things at play— you have a restaurant full of white people and they're all richer than you'll ever be. And they're being so mean to you. Not all the time. But sometimes they're being really mean to you, or they're being really needy and it's dark, and it's loud. I can't process it all at the same time. Whereas during the day, I'm much more likely to do whatever. I used to carry around a Tide To-Go pen in my pocket at work, in case people spilled on themselves. I love taking care of people. But it gets to a point especially now when we're in the middle of a pandemic and you're breathing your germs on me and being an asshole.
I am so sensitive. I mean, that's what makes me a good writer. You know, this is what I talk about in therapy all the time. It's like my weaknesses in one place also are my strengths in other places. I’m so sensitive. My manager will get upset and make a comment and I’m gonna go cry. And then I'm like, “You know, I can't do this. I'm too sensitive.” That's what makes me able to feel so much and write, so it's okay to be sensitive. And I try to take care of myself by working the shifts that I can handle.
What do you want to tell people who have never worked in the service industry?
I wish people knew how hard it is to work in a restaurant. It's a real job. Maybe this is 101, but working at the restaurant in New York City was way harder than getting my master's degree at NYU. It challenged me in way more intense ways. The only people that ever get publicity about working in restaurants are chefs, and that can be frustrating sometimes when, as a server, you're getting yelled at by the kitchen, you're getting yelled at by the customers or the guests. And you're in this spot where you're just trying to keep it together, you know, to make sure people aren't mad at you. I think also, like, just be kind. Be kind like how you would be to anyone.
