I drove for UPS for 30 days. Here’s what happened next.

Peak season during a pandemic was the best possible time for me to do my 30-day trial as a UPS driver. Yes, I was being thrown into the deep end of the pool where I’d either sink or swim. But being in my 30 Days came with certain safeguards.

For one, I could look forward to having the same assignment each day instead of being bounced around, as is customary for a brand new driver. Not all training routes are created equal, but I thought that mine was reasonable – and if nothing else, learnable. I could work on improving my performance as I got better acquainted with the area and its various stops.

Being in my 30 also meant that I couldn’t be assigned any extra work after I completed all my stops for the day. Because of federal rules about how many hours drivers can work (and drive) each day and week, UPS routinely dispatches drivers with lighter workloads to assist their colleagues with heavier ones. The goal is to try to get everyone finished and back to the warehouse before too late in the evening. However, my fellow drivers told me that I was exempt from that practice; if I did receive any extra work, then I was instantly and irreversibly ‘bought’.

Lastly, because of the higher package volume and influx of new drivers (both temporary and permanent), there was no possibility of over-supervision. UPS is notorious for its extensive use of electronic surveillance and use of performance metrics. But aside from one day where a supervisor rode along with me (my first day driving), and two brief, clandestine observations by that same supervisor (one toward the beginning and one toward the end of my 30), I was left alone to figure it out for and by myself.

Early on, a fellow driver told me, ‘If you can hold your own during peak, then you should be fine.’

I did. I was.

At the end of my shift on Saturday, December 19th, I had completed my 30 Days. I let my supervisor know, and he congratulated me. He treated it like a foregone conclusion even though I’d been tied up in knots about it the entire time.

On Monday, December 21st, less than six months after my hire date, I officially became a permanent full-time package car driver for United Parcel Service. Thanks to the union contract, I now have ‘seniority’ as a UPS driver. After having lost my previous job, I place an especially high value on this newfound job security.

I honestly don’t know how easy or hard it is to become a UPS driver. I know that I worked really hard and felt really challenged, both physically and mentally. I also know that not everyone gets this chance, and that not everyone who does get the chance makes it. So I feel really grateful.

How do I explain my good fortune? Timing was important. So was hard work and perseverance. A good attitude helped. And I’m convinced that being genuinely interested in others made a difference.

At the same time, I’m a white male in a predominantly white male space. I couldn’t help but ‘fit in,’ despite my feeling like an impostor. Not only were people predisposed to like me, they were also predisposed to trust in my competence. I could still prove them wrong on either count, of course. But the default assumptions gave me certain advantages.

Most of us know about the ‘glass ceiling.’ Less well known, but no less real, is the ‘glass escalator.’ Whereas women have to work twice as hard to prove themselves and are often punished for their ambitions, men receive more rewards and benefit of the doubt. They get fast-tracked to higher wages and higher-status roles, regardless of whether their workplace or occupation is predominantly male or female. Actually, the research shows that only white men enjoy these perks.

Although I can’t prove it, I believe that this is what happened to me. I benefited from my privilege. I took a ride on the glass escalator at UPS.

I’m not saying I didn’t earn my way to my current position. I don’t think anyone could accuse me of being handed something that I didn’t deserve. But I realize that the odds had been in my favor all along.