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| image by hang_in_there, via Flickr |
But then one day in San Francisco a friend told me he would like to spend a day with me where I would make all the decisions. He made me realize that I made decisions for myself, but as soon as there was someone else involved, I deferred. I think I was afraid to make a decision that wasn't the decision others with me would make. I didn't want to disappoint anyone. So I left all decisions up to others. That had to change.
Making decisions was an essential part of my first job with the Department of State. I was a vice consul, the lowest consular title, in the non-immigrant visa section of the Consulate General in Stuttgart, Germany. Every day I made several hundred decisions in response to applications for non-immigrant visas. Each decision was an either-or choice. For applications that came in the mail, the choice was either to issue the visa OR to invite the applicant in for an interview. For those who applied in person, either we gave a card with a time on it to return to pick up their passports with visas in them OR we invited them to take a seat until a consular officer could interview them. When we interviewed applicants, the choices were either to issue the visa OR to reject the application. That's it. Every decision was an either-or choice.
It took awhile to reconcile myself to knowing I would never have all the information I needed to make the perfect decision.There was no difference between the reactions of two people to whom I issued visas; both would be happy even if my decision to give a visa to one of them was wrong. Similarly, there was no difference between the reactions of two people whose applications I denied; both would be unhappy even if my decision to refuse a visa for one of them was right.
Once again, just as I had concluded after Iran, I realized sometimes it is more important to appear decisive than to be certain that the choice was right. Since I would never know that my decision was the right one, all I could do was learn from each decision to make a better decision next time. The basic criteria was subjective: every applicant for a non-immigrant visa must overcome the presumption that he or she is an intending immigrant. There was no magic formula. There was no checklist of requirements an applicant must meet. There were some lines in the sand that could prevent the issuance of a visa, but those were rare. In most cases, it was the consular officer's decisions to believe what an applicant said about their intentions with regard to traveling to the U.S. It was my decision.
In Barbados, I once again made decisions about visa applications. By then I had adopted a new pattern. I had to make decisions, big decisions, decisions that affected the lives of those around me, every day, many times a day. When I got home, I did not want to make any decisions. When I arrived home and Alex asked me if I'd like a drink, I fell back into my post-Iran habits; I said yes. When he asked what I wanted, I told him I didn't care. He could bring me coffee, water, tea, wine, a gin and tonic, I just didn't care. I didn't want to have to decide now that I was home.
Once again, just as I had concluded after Iran, I realized sometimes it is more important to appear decisive than to be certain that the choice was right. Since I would never know that my decision was the right one, all I could do was learn from each decision to make a better decision next time. The basic criteria was subjective: every applicant for a non-immigrant visa must overcome the presumption that he or she is an intending immigrant. There was no magic formula. There was no checklist of requirements an applicant must meet. There were some lines in the sand that could prevent the issuance of a visa, but those were rare. In most cases, it was the consular officer's decisions to believe what an applicant said about their intentions with regard to traveling to the U.S. It was my decision.
In Barbados, I once again made decisions about visa applications. By then I had adopted a new pattern. I had to make decisions, big decisions, decisions that affected the lives of those around me, every day, many times a day. When I got home, I did not want to make any decisions. When I arrived home and Alex asked me if I'd like a drink, I fell back into my post-Iran habits; I said yes. When he asked what I wanted, I told him I didn't care. He could bring me coffee, water, tea, wine, a gin and tonic, I just didn't care. I didn't want to have to decide now that I was home.
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