GLYNN WASHINGTON, HOST:
I was about to graduate law school, right, and I was desperate for a job. I sent out resumes everywhere, all over the country. But no luck, not even a nibble. But finally, I knock on the door of one of my mentors. I'm in a straight panic. He looks at my resume, and says, what is wrong with you? Here is your problem. Here, this its way too black. What do you mean too black? Let them find out you're black after they meet you, not now. You are trying to open doors, not close them. What? Take this stuff, this is the Black Student Union, the NAACP, helping minority children.
What is wrong with you? But look, that's really what - and how can you be in both a black arts and an Asian arts club? This is very dumb. But I really like - no, you do have the very unfortunate black name of Washington. Have you thought maybe about changing that name? No. Well, downplay it. At least do not stick this middle name, Darnell - you might as well be applying to Leavenworth. He keeps scribbling and editing. There, send this. Well, I've got literally nothing to lose. I send my resume back out to the same firms that have already rejected me.
And sure enough, just like my mentor says, I start getting interview requests. One from a superstar, Washington, D.C., pinstripe, button-down, top-shelf law firm. I almost faint. This could be my ticket to the big time. They fly me out to see them. The cab stops at the big, fancy building. It screams establishment, and money, and golf. And sure, when the recruiter sees me, she looks all surprised, but it's too late. I'm here. Let the interviews begin. You're scheduled to speak with six different attorneys, 45 minutes each. And I'm like, all right, all right. Don't mess it up, my big chance.
And I'm ready. And I get to the first one. He asks me, why would you like to work for this super-elite law firm? Well, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I'm spitting much nonsense. I'm playing the game the way the game is supposed to be played, and they're buying it. I know I'm getting high marks on their little review sheets. It's like one batter, two batter, three batter, four, five until I've got one last interview. The recruiter lady takes me to the final office, and this guy, he starts examining my resume. Looks up, and he says, you know, you've got a real interesting background here. Thanks?
Look, I'll write whatever you want me to write, but I've got to ask you, why do you want to do this? And I start in with the blahdy, blahdy, blah, but he stops me cold. Listen, listen, listen well. This job, this one, it's going to steal your soul. You might as well not get an apartment 'cause you're going to live right here under a desk that looks just like this one. And these legal cases, I don't care about this crap. No one cares. It gives me a panic attack to think I'm missing my little girl because of this nonsense.
And I'm hearing him, but I'm thinking, you know, that's all well and good, but cry me a river. I've got student loans to pay. So I smile and I nod about whatever he's talking about. And finally, the recruiter lady comes and gets me. She thanks me for coming by, and tells me that I can expect an answer fairly quickly. The letter, it's waiting for me when I get home. I rip it open. I don't get the job. I can't believe it. I'm devastated, truly. I tell my mentor what happened. And he asked me, which firm did you apply to? And when I tell him, he laughed. Dumb person. You were never in the running in the first place.
Today, on SNAP JUDGMENT, from PRX and NPR, we proudly present "Lost Cause," amazing stories from real people spending their time tilting at windmills. My name is Glynn Washington. Please, make yourself comfortable, but not too comfortable because this is SNAP JUDGMENT.
(MUSIC) Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
