Ellie Ahlfeldt
Professor Scott Olsen
English 110
10 April 2026
The Day I Stood Still
At seventeen the world is filled with worries only teenagers can have: does that boy like me? Do I have the trendiest clothes? When can I go shopping at the mall next? At that age I had not yet been exposed to any injustice outside my perfect adolescent world. A world where my issues and fears may have seemed life changing at the time, but nothing could have prepared me for the world I was about to enter into. I was young, I was alive, and I felt like the world was a wide open space for me to explore. As the saying goes, the world was my oyster, and I felt unstoppable. It’s not my fault for thinking this way though, I was raised with support and positive reinforcement to pursue whatever my heart desired. However, this created a naive side to my personality, which I had not grown out of. It was only because of life experiences that my innocence and naive spirit became less profound, and more aware of the realities of life.
It was the summer of 2024, I had just completed my junior year of highschool; the year everyone warns you will be the hardest. I had an undeniable motivation to get a job, start working toward my future, and become a “real” adult. This began with a part time job; 11 dollars an hour. Not enough to retire on, but it was a start. I had never had a real job before, but I felt butterflies and nerves as I thought about deciding to find one. I was torn between the feeling of excitement to join the workforce and the feeling of missing out on nostalgic lake days under the sun with my friends. Nevertheless, I knew it was time for me to enter the adult world, and I was excited to make my own money and finally have an impact on my community.
Seventeen year old Ellie was not a calm and relaxed individual; rather she could not sit still for more than a few minutes. I realized at a very young age that I always like to be up and doing things as early as possible and around as many people as possible. I have found this is what fills my cup everyday, and recharges my battery. So, I knew I did not want a job where I sat around all day. I needed to be around people and stay active. I thought about working at the pool, a restaurant, the country club, or even working at a bridal store. These all seemed like fun ideas, but each of them, as I looked into the job description more, did not seem like my perfect fit. The pool would make my hair wet, the people would be snooty at the restaurant, the country club required a membership to hire, and talk of a bridal store would’ve scared away any boy in my life at the time. I didn’t realize finding a job had so many factors, and it was turning out to be more difficult than I had imagined.
My idea of finding the perfect job was starting to feel overwhelming and not hopeful. That was until one of my friends recommended a job at an ice cream shop in Downtown Fargo called Silver Lining Creamery. The second she said the name, I was instantly brought back to my childhood. How could I have forgotten about the cute ice cream shop on the corner of Broadway and 2nd Ave? I had visited this shop many times throughout my life; for special occasions and community theatre activities. I vividly remember walking all the way from my middle school to the ice cream shop when I was in the theatre production “Annie Junior.” We had trudged along about a three mile walk, with sun beaming down on us and sweat dripping from our foreheads. When we arrived on Broadway, there sat the ice cream shop of our dreams. We could smell the sweet waffle cones and the refreshing air as the door to the shop swung open. Michelle, the owner, welcomed us into the store with a comforting smile and we sat and ate the most delicious ice cream. I remember that day fondly, because let’s be honest, what kid doesn’t want ice cream on a hot summer day.
I took my friend’s suggestion into consideration, and before I knew it, I was applying for a job at the little ice cream shop on Broadway. I reached out to the owner to apply, and she immediately responded, asking what day I could come in for an interview. An interview, one of the most nerve racking parts of applying for a job. For the first time in my life, I was doing adult things, on my own. My parents couldn’t be there to talk me through it, or guide me. It was me against the world and whatever I said would decide if I got the job or not. I prepared for this interview, which looking back seems silly, but I wanted to make sure I made a great first impression.
The day finally came for me to interview for the job of my dreams, well the job of my seventeen year old dreams. I could imagine myself scooping the ice cream, smiling at every person as they walked through the door with the summer breeze swooping in behind them. I could feel the warmth of the sun beaming through the tall glass windows, as the smell of fresh waffle cones filled the air. I spent the morning reviewing questions my Mom had prepared for me. I curled my hair and then went onto picking out a professional, but unique outfit. I chose my favorite pair of white cropped jeans, a purple and pink babydoll top, and my summer sandals that were dressy, but not too much for the occasion. Finally, I was ready and hopped in my car.
I got to the interview ten minutes early, gave myself a little pep talk, and walked into the ice cream shop. What I wasn’t prepared for was for Michelle to meet me at the door of the shop to welcome me in. We sat down at one of the customer tables, and simply talked about my interests and hobbies. I did not prepare to talk about my interests, because I thought most of the interview would be about my past work experiences, which are few. I was surprised by the questions, because she truly wanted to get to know me. She talked about the atmosphere of her business, and how she wants individuals who work there to welcome every person that walks through the door with a smile. She explained that no one knows what another person is going through, so a simple gesture of kindness can go a long way. I told her about my love for music, interacting with people, and my faith. She enjoyed my charisma and told me she could sense the joy that undoubtedly radiates from me when I am around people. I could have never imagined my interview would be calm and uplifting. I was offered the job that day, and started my training the following week.
The uniform we wore always had to be a Silver Lining Creamery shirt on top, jeans or dress pants on bottom, and closed toed tennis shoes. Our hair also had to be pulled back in a professional manner. My first day on the job arrived and I spent over an hour making sure I had the perfect slick back hairstyle and pair of jeans. I would put my hair up and there would be a bump, so naturally I tried to fix it, and it would get worse. Then I thought I finally had the perfect hairstyle, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. Eventually I had an almost perfect bun that felt just right. I put on my jeans, tucked my shirt neatly, and tied my shoes as tight as possible. I took this job very seriously.
So there I was, taking my first step into adulthood; taking a stand and place within society. My shift started at four o’clock and I was not going to be late. I made sure to show up early on my first day because the parking in Downtown Fargo is always unpredictable. I looked for about ten minutes for a spot, but could not find one. I ended up finding a parking spot a few blocks away and walked as efficiently as I could. The only issue was that the sun was beaming down as it does on a hot summer day, and the nerves were tumbling around in my stomach. I took a few deep breaths, grabbed the door handle, and walked into my first day on the job.
I spent the next eight hours learning the ins and outs of working as a scooper. What the perfect scoop looks like, the proper way to blend a milkshake, how to replace ice cream trays, and most importantly how to treat customers. The manager who trained me reminded me that there are only certain aspects of the job that can be taught; the rest will be learned throughout my summer working there. I didn’t know what this meant at the time, but as I reflect on my summer working at Silver Lining Creamery, I am made aware of the true meaning of that statement.
Working in the food industry means we get a small glimpse into someone’s life, or at least what they want us to see. There are many stories from my summer working at Silver Lining Creamery. The family with more kids than anyone could keep track of; barreling through the door with a stroller in one hand and a kid in the other. They would always try to make every kid happy with the ice cream, yet one kid could never make up their mind on which ice cream to get and which toppings would satisfy their dreams. Or the couple on their first date, who are nervous, yet finally opening up to one another and becoming more comfortable beside each other. Love is in the air, and I could never help but smile, feeling like I’m witnessing the beginning of a happy ever after. Maybe that’s just the helpless romantic in me, but I like to think my perfectly scooped ice cream was the thing that sealed the deal for a second date. Or the young boy who literally chased a fully grown man down, as he attempted to steal the boy’s bike. That was an experience no amount of scoop training could prepare me for. And the stories go on and on.
However, not everything is lighthearted and cheerful at the ice cream shop. I came to learn humans can be the most uplifting beings at times, yet at other times some of the most disappointing ones. I remember one day clearly, as I was working a closing shift and I loved the team I was working with. It was a Saturday afternoon, which in the summer, meant a night out for families and friends who would come into the shop. These nights were our busiest, and we knew the second six o’clock rolled around, we would not take a break until closing. I drove to work with my hair slicked back, my shirt perfectly tucked into my blue jeans and my shoes tied tight. I never went to work without a smile because I truly loved the atmosphere of the shop. I had a job where I felt I was able to make a real impact on my community, and that had always been a hope of mine.
The second I opened the door, the familiar scent of warm waffle cones and sweet cream flooded my nose. The cool air refreshed my warm body after I walked a few blocks, and the familiar faces of my co-workers brightened my day immediately. Marybeth and Ally were working alongside me, and we knew we were in for a busy night based on the perfect weather outside. The first few customers trickled in around five forty-five, and then as we expected the line gathered out the door and around the corner; we knew we were in for a busy night. Some of our regular customers were amongst the crowd, but many new customers arrived as well. There were young families, couples on a date, work groups, and young groups of kids. I dished up scoop after scoop, until I felt like my arm could fall off. I always tried to pay attention to customers and at the very least ask them some questions about their day, but this night was too busy to even do that. It felt like the night was on two-times speed and I couldn’t catch a break. The energy was high and I knew this would be a night to remember. As I stood there taking orders and dishing up scoops, time seemed to stop for a split second as a group of individuals caught my eye.
I noticed two men and two women on what seemed to be a double date. What drew my attention was the obnoxiousness of the men. You could tell they were having a good time, but at the cost of one of the women in the group. As they approached the ice cream cooler I got a better look at the situation. There was one couple that I can barely recall because they were acting calm and collected, but I vividly remember the other man and woman. The man was tall, with a broad and strong figure. He seemed to be towering over his partner. His demeanor was intense, as if he was entirely in control of the situation. Before I could welcome the customers into the shop, or ask them what they would be having, the man stepped forward and cut me off. I had sensed the nature of his personality, but I wasn’t prepared for the lack of respect. He ordered what he wanted, one scoop of chocolate ice cream with fudge on top. He didn’t even look me in the eye or seemed to care if I even understood his order. He certainly didn’t care if the woman he was with was taken care of or heard either.
One of the things I learned in the first few months working there was that from the hundreds of first dates, double dates, anniversary dates, or even just a couple going for the night, there was almost always the same pattern of ordering. The couple would stand in front of the ice cream cooler, with a perplexed look on their faces. Then out of the silence, the man would say, “ladies first” and the woman would begin ordering. This is how it almost always played out. However, the couple I served that night did not act this way. After the man ordered, he kept walking towards the cash register, leaving his partner behind. The only time he stopped to care for an ounce of a second, was when I began scooping his order. I remember his eyes staring me down to make sure I did it to his liking. He even offered to help me scoop, as if I wasn’t capable or strong enough to do my job. The woman then stepped forward, and I could see in her eyes a sense of weariness. Like she was used to being left in his shadow, disrespected by his actions, and accustomed to his lack of awareness. She was shy, and spoke so softly that I could barely hear her over the noise of our lively customers. I raised up on my tipi toes and listened as close as I could, for being a 5 ‘3 girl stuck behind a large cooler. She ordered one scoop of strawberry ice cream, no toppings, and moved along.
As I brought the order down the line to the cash register I could see the woman struggling to grab something out of her purse. However, as I got closer, I realized the man was tugging on her arm and grabbing her all over the place; visibly making her uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to do, as his actions began to make others in the ice cream shop uncomfortable as well. I decided to move on and just hand them their ice cream so he would stop making a scene. He pushed her forward when I handed them their ice cream, as he loudly proclaimed “well I’m not paying.” I am aware that in the twenty-first century gender roles are not as prominent or respected, but it was the way that he forced her to pay. The whole situation was filled with dominance and force.
At this point I could barely see the woman’s face, because she was completely looking toward the ground in embarrassment. She reached to pay and the man kept bugging her. He would pull on her clothes and nudge her the wrong way. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this situation didn’t feel right to me. He wasn’t play fighting with her or flirting with her by teasing her, he was openly making her feel uncomfortable; making all of us feel uncomfortable for that matter. My mind was at a battle between societal norms, my gut instinct, and how I have seen women treated in the past. I knew I wasn’t the only person seeing this blatant disrespect because my manager and I made eye contact the second we knew something was off. The man had finally walked off with his ice cream and left the woman to pay, but as she lifted her card, I could see marks on her arms and bruises on her wrist from where he grabbed tightly. Scratches on the inside of her arm, that seventeen year old me couldn’t begin to imagine the root of their appearance. I didn’t know what to do or say at that moment, none of us did. We had an ice cream shop full of excited customers; families, couples, groups, all waiting for ice cream. The situation felt surreal, as there was joy bursting through the walls of the shop. I should’ve felt excited to serve customers and been more aware of the task at hand, but I couldn’t move past the woman. The energy and chaos ensued all around me, yet all I could see was the woman and the marks on her arms.
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I had never heard of the bystander effect as my world was filled with seventeen year old things: what I want my nails to look like, my hair, what college I should attend, who was my new crush at school. However, if you would have asked me that day if I would stand up for a person in distress or who I felt was in danger, I would’ve immediately said yes. The National Library of Medicine reports that this is a natural response from the majority of individuals. We think that we’re heroes in the face of injustice, but the bystander effect disproves this. The bystander effect takes place when the presence of many individuals discourages oneself from intervening in an emergency situation. Whereas if one was alone or with fewer witnesses, they would be more likely to intervene. Psychology Today explains these actions are often the response to fear, when an individual freezes up. They may be afraid that they are too weak to help. Another common fear is that one could be misunderstanding the context and seeing a threat where there is none present. There are situations, daily, where the bystander effect occurs.
Whether it be on a small scale or on a large scale, each of us can think of a time where we were the bystander. I sat down with my Dad, who happens to be the Assistant Chief of Police and he told me a story where the bystander effect occurred. The story revolves around an extremely intoxicated man found in Downtown Fargo. This man had been laying in the middle of the sidewalk, with people surrounding him, going about their business. None of them called the police on him, or intervened in any way because it was a large group of people. The only person to intervene was a woman driving by in her car. She called 911 to report a man in distress from heavy intoxication. He explains that this is an example of the bystander effect. The people who were in a large group around the man, did not speak up or intervene, but the woman who was secluded within her car, with no one around, was the one to intervene. However, this is a small scale example of the effect. In an emergency situation where the bystander effect occurs, he explains, “People are doubting what they are seeing, because other people are not reacting to it. People are afraid to believe what they see”. They’re not only afraid to believe it, but often they are afraid to be the first to take action. Action is not an obligation, but as a human being if there is a gut instinct to step in, he encourages it.
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The moment was stuck in slow motion; I didn’t feel like I could move. What could a seventeen year old girl do, especially when I was never trained for this type of situation. This was not a part of my training, and knowing how to scoop ice cream was not going to come in handy at this moment. My human instincts were the only things I could rely on, however I did not have enough evidence or courage to speak up. I wondered if the act of me speaking up would make her situation worse? Or would I be the reason she finally could have the courage to leave?
My colleagues and I talked about the interaction at closing time. However, none of us wanted to discuss the elephant in the room; the fact that no one said something. We talked about how disrespectful the man was to her, and how we would never accept treatment like that. Even so, I look back now and wonder why we immediately passed judgment on the woman. We didn’t know her story, what she had been through, the psychological and physical ties she had to the man who mistreated her. For a fact, I know that seventeen year old Ellie had no clue a human could be blatantly disrespectful in such a way. I have now come to realize that there is never one simple black and white answer of what to do in a situation like the one I experienced. I have chosen to learn from the interaction, and stay aware of future ones.
Though this interaction was only about five minutes long, I will never forget the feeling of knowing something is wrong, but not being able to figure it out. I am not the same person who walked into work that day, and it only took a few minutes for me to be changed. I often go back to the same thought, “if he can treat her like that in public, how is he treating her in private?” and that question haunts me to this day. I feel guilt; wondering if saying something would’ve been the silver lining this woman needed in her life. The first step to leaving the man who disrespected her. To this day, what I carry most is not an answer, but many questions; why did I become a bystander in the face of violence? Should I have helped? At the age of seventeen could I have helped?
Works Cited
Ahlfeldt, William. Personal Interview. Mar 31 2026.
“Bystander Effect.” Psychology Today, Sussex Publishers, www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/bystander-effect. Accessed 1 Apr. 2026.
Hortensius, Ruud, and Beatrice de Gelder. “From Empathy to Apathy: The Bystander Effect Revisited.” Current Directions in Psychological Science, U.S. National Library of Medicine, Aug. 2018.