Commencement

After weeks of visiting agencies with no luck, Allen decided that he could no longer hold onto his dream of being employed in the financial industry. The country’s economic crisis had grown steadily worse. The Dow continued to drop hundred of points. This time, AIG and Merril Lynch were the newest casualties of the financial turmoil. As they sunk into the quagmire of corruption and bankruptcy, so did thousands of jobs. Rapidly, the losses in the financial sector began to ripple throughout other industries. Restaurants and retail establishments that once profited enormously from Wall Street bonuses saw their profits dwindle as their customers lost their jobs. Realties couldn’t sell houses. In fact, many of the newly unemployed were losing the overpriced homes they already had. The automakers couldn’t sell their exorbitantly priced and inefficient cars. Next to succumb to the financial crisis were the big auto giants: Ford, Chrysler and GM. Philanthropy decreased leaving many non-profits who depended upon corporate donations in jeopardy. Then the city itself was hit as the public sector enacted hiring freezes. The nation’s unemployment rate suddenly sky rocketed from 4 to 6.5 percent and in the city it was now 5.7 percent. Companies, particularly in the financial industry, were still hemorrhaging jobs. Finding a job was definitely going to be tight, and for an African-American male, almost next to impossible.

  There were many bills that needed to be covered, most notably the student loans that Allen and his parents had taken out to finance his education. Allen’s chief objective now was to land a job. Any job. He couldn’t sit around and watch his parents forego their retirement while he waited for his “dream job”. The exigency of his situation demanded that he find a way to help with the monthly bills. It was the only way to preserve what little dignity he had left. So Allen stood on a line outside of the Jacob Javits center, a line that went all the way down to end of Twelfth Avenue to get into the New York Job Fair. After nearly two hours of waiting, he was now on the corner of Eleventh Avenue, just fifty feet from the entrance of the building.

  It was cold, rainy, and windy. Allen had a hard time trying to control his umbrella, which at times was flipped inside out by the wind. At times Allen looked down the queue for signs of movement. There were policemen and center security to control the growing crowd. Allen couldn’t believe how many people were there; ready to compete for what might be 100 jobs at best. That’s the way it worked at job fairs. Sometimes the companies that were represented weren’t even hiring, but would send representatives anyway to collect resumes, and to see what the market looked like in terms of skilled workers. Everyone who was there, including Allen, knew the odds, but went anyway in a sort of hopeful desperation.

  Allen listened to the conversations of the people around him. Most of the people were recent college graduates like himself. There were some older people who had been phased out of top positions, a few lawyers, bankers, and even some people who his mom referred to as “street”. Guys from round the way, looking to see if they could catch a gig to make a few bucks. One guy Allen recognized was a “man on the corner”. Even they weren’t doing so well these days. Allen remembered how when he was in high school, the guys on the corner would have fresh sneakers every other week, shiny new jeeps and girls hanging all over them. Now there were so many brothers out there flooding “the trade”, that wages even in this area were so depressed, the dealers had to get a second job just to keep everything together. But in some way, Allen had expected to see them. They looked like him. There were always a large number of African-Americans and Latinos at these job fairs. What Allen did not expect to see were the large numbers of whites, Indians and Asians who were present (although their numbers were by no means equal to those of African-Americans). It seemed as if the current financial doldrums affected everyone.

  The line dragged steadily on until Allen could see the entrance of the building. Security was checking for registration tickets. Ten more minutes and the line began to move faster. Allen could see that they were letting people into the building in groups of about 30 more or less. Allen shifted his umbrella from one hand to another, holding it away from the crowd before he closed it. Then he reached into his raincoat to get his registration form from his inside pocket. Ten more minutes and he would be pasting on his visitor sticker badge and heading forward with the next group of 30 who were making their way into the center and up the escalators to see what job opportunities awaited.

  As he stepped off the escalator onto the second floor, he could barely see the little stalls that were being thronged by the other job seekers, and couldn’t tell which businesses were there at first. Some of the representatives had the good sense to place their banners high over the table with a collapsible steel framed awning. For example, looking down the aisles of people, he was quick to notice the McDonald’s golden arches logo cascading from an awning over their booth, and the famous red, white and blue Duane Reade trademark from their booth over in the corner. Allen decided that he would have a walk around to see just what businesses were there before introducing himself and handing out resumes.

  He could barely walk along the busy corridor for the hustle and bustle of the other job seekers. At one stall, Allen noticed a tall red-haired, middle-aged white man who was almost giving a lecture to the people who stood mesmerized in front of him. This piqued Allen’s interest so he moved closer to the group to find out what was going on.

  “Here is our web address and instructions for filing an application if you’re interested”, said the man handing out sheets of green paper to the people in front of him. The man fumbled for a bit before handing the papers over to an assistant who handed them into the crowd. Allen took one of the papers, and read what amounted to instructions about how to go online and fill out an application to work at a new M&M super-store in mid-town. Most of the available positions were for sales reps. Even as desperate as he was, Allen just couldn’t see himself wearing those brown and yellow aprons trying to talk up the red, yellow and green teddies made after those characters on the commercials.

  As he walked further down, Allen made a decision to avoid the tables with too many people crowded around. Such tables often represented companies that offered unskilled jobs. The unskilled jobs were the ones that went the fastest, and Allen knew from experience that they were not looking for someone as educated as he was anyway. He’d have to leave a lot off of his resume if he wanted to work at such places. The bosses were always afraid that too many educated people working for Burger King or the Limited and the next thing you know a foodservice workers union or a retail workers union may spring up. In spite of his desperation, he also had just too much pride to take one of these jobs.

  In a lonely corner sat a heavy set bearded man at the Cigna Health Insurance table. Allen decided to walk over and see just what the bearded man had to offer.

  “Good afternoon. My name’s Allen Sharpe”, Allen greeted the man extending his hand for the customary handshake.

  “Hi, How are you, I’m Bill Taylor, Human Resources specialist. Are you interested in working in health insurance?”

  “Yes, very much”, Allen lied. “ What kind of positions do you have available?”

  “Right now we have a few sales associates positions open? Do you have any previous sales experience?”

  “No, but I was a finance major in college. I’m open to new experiences, and I learn quickly. Would you like my resume?”

  “Sure I’ll take a look at it”, said the rosy-faced man cordially, but uninterestedly. Allen thought that at once he would notice the Harvard Degree and then he would have a chance to discuss a possibility for employment. However, Taylor merely glanced over it in a perfunctory way before placing it on a pile of several others. Then he reached over to a little stack of cards and handed one to Allen.

  “Here’s my business card. I’ll bring your resume back to central headquarters to see if they’re interested. If they are, they should give you a call.”

  Allen had heard that before.

  “Thank you. I really appreciate it”, said Allen
as he realized that this was Taylor’s way of ending the interview and getting rid of him. He then walked away to scavenge for other opportunities.

  After walking around for about 20 minutes, Allen began to believe there weren’t that many companies here at all. The crowds began to thin out as people who realized paucity of viable positions began to leave, and Allen could see the wide spaces between the tables. Now he could see more clearly the companies that were represented. There was a representative for the Marriot Hotel Chains. Allen heard that they were planning to build a new hotel on the other side of Harlem. There were a few people at the table already who were engaged in tête-à-tête’s with some of the representatives. They did not especially look like the type of people that would be negotiating a skilled position, especially the man with the purple suit and lavender Stacy Adams shoes, or the woman with the burgundy weave and tight fitting burgundy, yellow, and black skirt suit. In any case, it wouldn’t hurt to see what they were offering.

  On his way there, the woman in the brightly colored suit was walking away and bumped into Allen.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t look so good”, said Allen noticing the despondent look on her face.

  “You wouldn’t look so good either if you’d been out of work for two years.”

  Allen couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Two years! How could someone be searching for work for two years! The nearly six months that he had been looking seemed like eternity. Allen couldn’t fathom being out of work for two years. Then Allen looked at the suit again. Maybe that was part of her problem. She didn’t really know how to dress when looking for work and it seems that no one had ever given her the hint.

  “I hope you have some luck here today.”

  “Thanks, but it doesn’t look like it”, she said, her voice trailing off as she walked away. At least she was still trying.

  Allen made his way over to the stall and spoke with a young African-American woman who was standing behind the table setting up a display of brochures.

  “Good afternoon”, said Allen offering his usual salutation.

  “Good afternoon. I’m Holly, and you are…”

  “Forgive me. I’m Allen Sharpe”, said Allen extending his hand to the woman.

  “So, Allen, what is it that has interested you in working for the Marriot?”

  “I’ve always wanted to work in the hospitality industry. I have some experience in finance and management and was thinking that maybe I could put those skills to work for you. Would you like to see my resume?”

  “Sure, absolutely.”

  Unlike the previous encounter, Holly seemed particularly interested and took the time to inspect the resume.

  “Harvard! Wow! You’re parents must be proud”, she commented before returning her attention to the resume.

  “Thank you. They are.”

  “This is a great resume. You have so much valuable experience, I don’t know if you’d even want the jobs we have to offer. I mean, the only positions we have available are for custodians, maids, concierge, and the like. I’m not sure if that’s something that someone with your background wants to do. I don’t want to waste your time.”

  “Oh”, said Allen he didn’t quite know how to feel. On one hand he was encouraged by the fact that the woman was basically expressing he was too good for such jobs, with which Allen agreed. However, he was looking for something to do, and was a little disappointed that she was not able to offer him a better position. Allen wanted to maintain his self-respect in front of this woman.

  “O.K., I understand.”

  “You know what. I’ll keep your resume on file and if by chance a position comes up that is more appropriate for you, I can put in the application for you.”

  “Thank you very much”, said Allen brightening. It was almost as if she could read his mind. “I’d really appreciate that.”

  “Your welcome. And here’s my card. My cell phone number is on the back. Feel free to call me anytime”, and she gave Allen a knowing wink.

  “Thanks, again. I’ll be in touch”, Allen said coyly. Allen was tempted by the young woman’s offer. She was fine, but at the same time he was too busy. He couldn’t think about playing the field when he was still trying to make it in the world.

  Allen spent the next two hours scoping out businesses, introducing himself to representatives, handing out resumes, and collecting business cards, brochures, and applications. At one point, he discovered there were more employers on the floor above him and continued his search there. The better quality firms and positions were all upstairs. Allen put in applications for Prudential, ING, MetLife, Data Net, a information services company, Lifeline, a healthcare service provider for the elderly, and other businesses. When Allen had exhausted his supply of resumes and business cards, he decided to call it quits.

  After nearly three hours, Allen had applied for at least fifty positions. Now all he could do was wait. That was the worst part. Most times Allen wouldn’t hear anything from the companies he applied to, and if by chance he decided to call, he would get the obligatory apology followed by rejection. But at this point there was nothing else that he could do, and this frustrated him more than anything. Allen was used to getting things done, achieving, accomplishing things, and most importantly witnessing the tangible results from his hard work. Looking for work was the one challenge that left Allen feeling empty inside. He was putting in all of this work, but he wasn’t getting anything out of it. And now that he had exhausted all of his options, he was not even able to think of what he could do anymore. So Allen looked back on the spectacle of people wandering about from booth to booth and decided to leave.

  There was a separate exit for the Job Fair to keep things manageable. Allen looked around for the exit signs, which he quickly spotted and headed to the descending escalator at the back of the floor. As he was going down, one escalator and then the next, he could feel his strength, and hope evaporating from him. Today’s excursion just seemed like an exercise in futility. He was leaving the same way he came in. Allen knew that it would be that way going in, but in the back of his mind he thought that maybe, just maybe….

  As he left the Javits Center, Allen checked his watch. It was now 4:30 pm. It had stopped raining, but the sky was still gray and cloudy. Allen knew his mother had to be home by now, cooking dinner, and waiting for dad and himself. He knew she would want to know how his day went, and he wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. His father would unrealistically expect Allen to have found employment. Then, when Allen had to explain that he hadn’t, good old dad would start fussing about being picky. Allen walked down to the bus stop in front of the center over by the end of the block. Then he sat down, reached into his coat pocket, grabbed his cell phone, and dialed.

  “Herns and Marshall, Business Services. Tim Russell, speaking.”

  “What’s up man?”

  “Allen! Long time, no speak. Did your thumbs give out on you?”

  “Yeah, you could say that? Are you going to be busy for a while?”

  “Kind of, but I should be done here in a hour or so? What’s going on?”

  “Not much. I just thought that since it’s been a while since we’ve all seen each other, we might be able to just get together for dinner and kick it for a while.”

  “Okay, sure. What did you have in mind?”

  “I was thinkin’ Emily Ann’s over by the park on 117th.”

  “Sounds good. What time?”

  “How about 6:30?”

  “Perfect. I’ll call the girls, you call the rest of the guys.”

  “And maybe we can stop and see that new Denzel Washington film afterward.”

  “Great. Keep your line open and I’ll let you know what the girls have to say.”

  “Okay, man.”

  When he heard Tim hang up, Allen quickly called his mother.

  “Hello?” his mother answered after the second ring.

&nb
sp; “Hey, ma. Have you got dinner on already?”

  “I was just about to put together a lasagna. How was the job fair?”

  “It was what it was.”

  “No luck?”

  “I’ll tell you about it later. Look ma, I wanted to tell you that I’m not going to be having dinner with you and dad tonight. Me and the guys are going to Emily Ann’s”

  “Oh, okay. So I won’t make a big lasagna then. When do you think you’ll be coming in?”

  “I mean, I’ll be by to change, but after that, I’m not sure. We might see a movie after dinner, so I may not be in until late.”

  “Allen, I know you have a lot going on right now, but I’d like to talk to you about something: tomorrow morning to be exact. You hear me, boy?”

  “Yes, ma’am” Allen didn’t like the sound of that. Yet another religious lecture, no doubt.

  “O.K, now. Talk to you later.”

  As Allen ended his conversation, the bus pulled up to the stop. Allen reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat for his metro card. He boarded the bus, paid his fare and took a seat in one of the single-seaters on the left side. He would take the bus to Eighth Avenue and then walk down to the subway. As the bus took off, Allen took out his cell and sent texts to Richard and Jim.

  “Hey. Everyone’s meeting for dinner tonight. Emily Ann’s, @6:30pm is the plan”

  After scribing his text, he closed his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. It might be a while before he heard from either one of them, since Jim was still driving around in the underground and may not get the message until 6:00 anyway. And heaven only knew where Richard might be. “Maybe, I should have told Tim 7:00 instead of 6:30” Allen thought to himself. He didn’t want Jim to have to rush over still in uniform or be late. Richard would be late, because Richard was always late.

  It wasn’t long before the bus pulled up to the stop on Eighth Avenue. Allen got off the bus and then walked down towards the train station. He didn’t have far to go, but the crowd of pedestrians almost rendered the narrow streets impassable. As he walked toward the subway entrance, he could feel the vibrations from his phone in his pocket. Allen stopped and walked over toward a little deserted nook in front of a sneaker store before he checked the phone. Richard had responded.

  “u no I’m dwn! See u l8r”

  Allen was surprised to hear back from Richard so soon. It had been nearly two months since he had heard from him. He couldn’t wait until this evening to find out just what the brother had been up to in all that time. Allen turned off the phone and then headed down the stairs toward the platform. When he got there, the station was crowded and hot. It didn’t seem to matter that it was the beginning of November. In the tunnels, summer didn’t end until December. Allen placed his briefcase on the platform between his legs and took off his black raincoat and folded it across arm, and pinned his umbrella against it. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as he waited impatiently. Allen wanted to have enough time so he could get to Emily Ann’s a little early so he could get a booth, before the place got too crowded.

  After a few minutes, Allen could hear the far away shriek of the train as it was nearing the station. He picked up his briefcase from where it had been resting and moved closer to the edge of the platform. When the train pulled in, there was a brief pause, before the doors opened and passengers poured out onto the platform. Allen waited until everyone had exited before he boarded the train. He was one of the first people on and was fortunate to find a window seat. He placed his briefcase and umbrella under his seat, folded his raincoat on his lap, leaned his head against a window, and zoned out trying to let go of all his frustration and anxiety about his future. He just wanted to concentrate on tonight, and the idea of enjoying the company of his friends. Allen hoped that they would all be able to attend and make it through the night without arguments or drama. He needed some fun and a break, especially since tomorrow morning the madness would start again. His mom wanted to “talk”, and then his Dad would probably have something to say. Allen pushed these last thoughts out of his mind as he settled in for the long ride home. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow. All he wanted to think about was tonight.

  Nineteen