Good old New Mexico

After nearly a year on the eligible list – during which I moved very slowly from three-digit territory toward the top – I finally got a call and was invited, along with two others, to interview for a job as Student Worker I in the City of San Diego.

Soon thereafter, I was offered a job in Reservoir Recreation at Lake Murray, not far from San Diego State University where I was then a freshman majoring in social sciences.

Thousands of high school and college students applied for student worker status and just a few hundred landed jobs. Some, like me, waited months for positions to fill and for the list to grow shorter – hoping we’d reach the top of the list before it expired at the end of 12 months.

That job changed things for me. First, it gave me a cash flow that made it possible to buy my jeep – fulfilling a longtime dream. Second, it introduced me to the work world, including responsibility for some very “down and dirty” tasks such as cleaning outhouses, restrooms, fishing boats and the shoreline as well as performing some public relations duties with those who fished at the lake.

A third benefit was an increase in my self-confidence: driving city vehicles, using power tools (including a jackhammer), maintaining records, following orders and enduring periodic evaluations all made me feel part of the work world – part of the adult world. Finally, this “city job” beefed up my otherwise blank resume and made it possible to get other jobs – notably my position less than a year later as a VISTA volunteer.

The selection process for VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America) was even more rigorous and I was very impressed by the other young people in my training group – and pretty impressed by myself for being chosen at the end of such scrutiny.

When I returned to San Diego, I again applied for work with the city and was rewarded much more quickly with a position in the recreation department. My previous city experience and work I’d done in community recreation as a VISTA served me well and I was placed near the top of the list.

I’ve applied for hundreds of positions in my life and came to believe that when the process was fair, I usually made the first cut and often found myself in the final three or five candidates. I learned to appreciate what’s known as the “merit system” which dates back to the end of the 19th century when employers (governments in particular) began hiring based on applicants’ ability to perform duties rather than on their political connections.

By the time I arrived in New Mexico, I was overqualified for part-time employment in a recreation department. But I needed a job while attending graduate school at the University of New Mexico and, at 29, still had plenty of energy and a desire to work directly with participants on playgrounds or at other city facilities.

So, I went downtown and completed an application for a recreation leadership position. And then I waited. And waited. And waited.

Weeks passed and I never heard a word. I finally gave up on the idea of working for the city. I took a six-week job leading pre-schoolers in gymnastics at a Head Start Center and did a lot of basketball officiating, but I didn’t find any regular employment.

Then, one day I was meeting with my advisor at the University. He glanced at a note on his desk and asked, offhandedly, “You’re not interested in working for the city, are you?”

When I explained that I had applied for a job some months earlier, he smiled. Then he scribbled a name and phone number on a sheet of notepaper and said, “Call this fellow.”

I immediately went home and placed the call. I was invited to an office in the city recreation department for what I expected to be a job interview. I put on a suit and arrived early for my appointment.

The supervisor greeted me warmly and described the opening – a playground leader job that would provide the income my family needed to get through the summer. He asked me if I had any questions and – as an experienced interviewer – I offered a couple of queries that demonstrated my understanding of the challenge being presented.

At that point, the man thanked me and we shook hands.

“When will I find out about the job?” I asked.

“Find out what?” His reply caught me off balance.

“You know,” I stammered. “Whether I’m being offered the job or not.”

“You had the job before you came down here,” he said. “You had the job as soon as you told me Professor -------- had recommended you.”

He revealed to me that, at that time, politicians often sent him lists of names with the understanding that he would find positions for sons and daughters of those who supported the politician. It was patronage, plain and simple – and a violation of the Pendleton Act, also plain and simple.

During the 30 years that have elapsed since this eye-opening experience in the Land of Enchantment, I’ve seen plenty of wrongdoing in the workplace. I’ve experienced some cuts and bruises along the way because I found it hard to set aside what may be naive and unrealistic principles and I confronted issues I should probably have left alone.

Now that I think about it, my experiences in the work world became less joyful after that time in New Mexico. Perhaps that was just bad luck; but maybe it was also affected by a loss of innocence and a sense of sadness.

Tomorrow, I’m off to Arizona – another state that was briefly “home” for me. I’m curious to see what, if any, chords begin to resonate during my dozen days in the Grand Canyon State.