It was Saturday night. Allen was going to spend it alone sitting in front of the T.V. He had a big bag of Nacho cheese tortilla chips and a liter of soda that he sat on each side of him like two close friends. He was getting ready to fire up the DVD player and watch ‘Training Day’ for the 5th time when he heard a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” he blared in a semi-threatening voice.
“Who you think it is, son?” replied an all too familiar voice.
Allen walked over to the door and looked out the peephole to see 4 very distorted, but familiar faces. It was Tim, Jim, Richard and Callie and they looked like they were dressed for a night out. Allen opened the door and before he could offer a greeting, they barreled past him like cars on a freight train.
“Alright, grandpa, get out of that ol’ funky robe and put on your best gear cause you goin’ out”, Richard ordered.
“Sorry guys, you’re gonna have to give me a rain check. I’m not exactly in the best mood for going out.”
“Brrrrt. Wrong answer”, insisted Richard.
“C’mon,” pleaded Callie “your mom told us all about what’s been going on. Al, you can’t just sit about the house and mope. Come with us, relax, and take your mind off it for a while. Or if you want, maybe we can bounce around some ideas to help you out.”
“Yeah, maybe we could work on some job search strategies”, suggested Tim.
“Thanks for trying to help, but at this point I’m beyond help. It’s just so frustrating. I just want to know what I’m doing wrong”, sighed Allen pounding a pillow on the couch with his fist.
“Maybe you’re not doing anything wrong”, suggested Jim somberly.
“So why doesn’t someone hire me then?!” Allen found himself half shouting.
“Allen, look there are many different variables that are involved in the hiring process. You have a lot of strengths like your education, and background knowledge, but you have some very real weaknesses like your lack of experience, and dearth of connections. And then there are other variables that have nothing to do with you, like the economy and the demand for....”
“Well, I just graduated from college. How am I supposed to get this experience if they don’t give me a chance?!” moaned Allen cutting Tim off.
“C’mon, Tim. Don’t even go there”, said Jim trying to control his anger. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Allen or the economy. Can we please stop dancing around the 5000 pound elephant in the room?! Allen’s not getting the jobs because he’s black. Period. I know. I’ve been there.”
“So we’ve heard for the millionth time”, sighed Tim, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t be facetious, Tim. Even you have to admit what’s going on here. Think about the things that have been happening to him on those interviews. Like when that lady at the Concord Group looked at your resume and then walked up to that white guy. Why do you think she made that mistake? In their world the only degree a black man can have is on a thermometer. And if you had a name like Rasheem or Malik, they wouldn’t have even looked at your resume”, explained Jim.
“Yeah, and that other company, that tried to scam you with that n**ger job”, Richard spat out.
“Richard, do you have to use that word?!” chided Callie.
“What would you call it if you went for a good job and they told you all you was good for was managing the trash guys?”
“Guys, I don’t think playing the race card is going to help my situation.”
“And what about those companies? They’re playing it and at your expense”, continued Jim.
“Oh, come on, that’s enough. Allen and I know plenty of guys who are black with the same creds that have very good jobs. In fact, I’m one of them!” shot Tim.
“No offense, Tim, but with all due respect, your situation is a little different, and you know what I’m talkin’ about”, Jim shot back. Tim colored a little at his remark.
“O.K., so maybe I’m a little better connected than he is due to circumstances beyond anyone’s control. So let’s talk about another situation”, Tim said defiantly. “In fact, we just hired someone to be my assistant, who happens to be a black guy, who recently graduated from Yale.”
“Wait a minute! You mean they was hirin’ where you at, and you ain’t even put in a word for this brother, knowing his situation?!” retorted Richard, angrily.
“I didn’t know they were hiring, it was a surprise to me!”
“Ain’t you supposed to be a president or somethin’? How you not gonna know somethin’ like that?!” asked Richard incredulously.
“It was an upper management decision!”
“So? Ain’t you supposed to be ‘top brass’? Can’t you get them to change they minds? The way you be sashaying and displayin’ I would’a thought you had some real juice. Don’t tell me you just they pet Negro?”
“You know I’m starting to lose my patience...”
“No, you just lost face, my brother.”
“Can we stay focused, please? We came here to help Allen get some perspective, not to fight with each other” Callie reminded them as she placed herself between Richard and Tim who looked as if they were ready to have it out.
“Everyone, please. I’ve never made excuses for myself. I don’t intend to now.”
“No one’s trying to make excuses for you Allen. But racism is real, and yes, it still exists. When the Civil Rights Acts of 1964 and 1965 were signed, all of the racists in this country did not just spontaneously drop dead. When you were at Harvard, you didn’t have a lot of white people banging down your door to be your friend. C’mon Callie, back me up, do any of the white nurses ever invite you to lunch? I didn’t think so. Tim never gets invited to after work socials, and I just recently got a ticket for waiting for Miko outside of her building. Do you think these things happen for no reason?” explained Jim.
“You don’t have to explain it to me, Jim. I’m very well aware that racism still exists. However, when I interviewed no one called me the N-word, and, for the most part, no one said anything to indicate that they were prejudiced...” Allen stopped as Aldridge’s comment popped into his head. ‘…people like you.’
“They didn’t have to. It’s not just words. It’s actions. Actions, Allen!”
“I could understand if I came in there like some type of walking stereotype. I’m not some thug with his pants hanging down to his knees going “whas-sup!”
“Exactly! Allen’s different!” remarked Callie.
“Yeah, he’s what they call a ‘good n**ger’. However in this world even a ‘good n**ger’ is still a ‘n**ger’. They’re not going to let anyone who is black have any type of job with real responsibility or power, especially if they think you’re going to use it to our advantage”, scowled Jim.
“Even if what you guys are saying is true, what am I supposed to do? Call Al Sharpton? Call for a boycott? Bleach myself?” asked Allen despondently.
“Look, why don’t you just let me hook you up with something in transit, so you can get a little cheddar to tide you over in the mean time? Look at me, I’m just doin’ transit till I save enough money to pay for law school.”
“Thanks, Jim, but I really need a job that’s at least somewhat relevant to my field, or I’ll get stuck there”, reasoned Allen. Jim appeared crestfallen after this comment. “Not that it would happen to you”, Allen added quickly.
“Or you could look into some black owned or operated firms. See if they’re hiring”, suggested Callie.
“Oh, please. I’ve already done my research on that. As it stands there are only three black owned consulting firms. One is under investigation by the SEC for fraud, the second has recently filed for bankruptcy, and the last one is listed as Richard’s.”
“Which leads to my next suggestion. You could start your own joint, which is what you shoulda done in the first place. If you want, I could be your partner ‘til you learn the ropes. I could get you the money to get started and everything.”
“Oh, really? And just what typ
e of business could you possibly help him to establish? Selling African-American urban lit on a table in front of the mall?” asked Tim skeptically.
“Who you getting uppity with?! I stay paid! You need to keep quiet ‘cause you obviously ain’t got no juice! You couldn’t even hook him up with that assistant job, ‘Mr. President’”, sneered Richard.
“It’s not that simple in corporate America! It’s not like I work at some local chicken shack and I can go to my bosses and say ‘Yo, hook this brother up!’”
“From the way you always be prancin’ around here talkin’ all that game and stuff, somebody might think that you were Bloomberg himself!”
“Now wait a minute…”
“Why is it that whenever we get together you two have to start arguing? It’s getting to be annoying”, said Allen holding his hands to his head in exasperation.
“My thoughts exactly. In fact, you know what? Could you two agree to not speak to each other for the rest of the evening, please, for all our sakes.”
At Callie’s rebuke both men went to opposite corners of the room and sat down, mumbling under their breaths like two children who had been put on ‘time out’.
“Now, Allen, What about your connections? If they can give you a reference, why not a job?”
“I tried that already. They’re not hiring at the moment.”
“You mean their quota for blacks is full at the moment”, Jim added.
“It’s just not fair. All my life I’ve done the right thing. I went to school. I went to church every Sunday. Never done drugs or been anywhere near a gang. I did the college thing. I treat people with respect and try to give back to my community. What do I have to show for all of it?”
“Al, you’re right. You’ve been working the tried and true path all of your life. Everything by the book. But that book wasn’t necessarily written with black folks in mind. Now you have to figure out a new way to get things done. And as for what you have to show for it all, you’ve got 5 friends who are willing to stick by you in all this”, said Callie attempting to reassure her friend.
“Yeah, now it’s still not too late, to go out and get dinner, so go upstairs, get dressed and let’s roll”, said Jim.
“And where are we going?”
“To that new fish joint down on 137th street. I heard the scrimps is bangin’”, Richard gushed.
“That’s shrimps”, said Tim correcting him.
“Look here, Harvard, you don’t need to be correctin’ my English all the time. You need to chill wit’ dat. Actin’ like you a dictionary or somethin’”
“I thought I told you two not to speak to one another. Don’t let me have to tell you again”, Callie reprimanded sounding a lot like a momma. So much so that the two men gave heed to her words almost immediately.
“See now, I was gonna go, but I’m afraid that if I leave these two down here too long, they will have killed each other by the time I get dressed.”
“Just go on. Don’t worry about these two. I got them”, charmed Callie as she nudged Allen toward the staircase to encourage his new mood that was just coming on.
Ten