A Memorable Experience

Shortly after being employed with a software development company through a professional placement agency, I learned that the company I worked for had very different goals than that for which I had been hired.  At first, my job title had little to do with the actual assignments to which I was tasked to do.  For the majority of my tenure with this small business, I found myself jumping through hoops that not only challenged me professionally, but also personally.  At one point, my employer wanted me to supervise a work crew that had been hired to do manual labor in one of our new business offices.  "I want you to watch these porch-monkeys and make sure they work the clock."  I was taken-aback, since my own background did not subscribe to such labels, nor even considered the possibility of working for anyone that did so.  Reluctantly, I wandered over to the construction area and introduced myself.  Two African Americans were busily working and in my own opinion were very industrious about the task at hand.  With my own jobs getting behind in the lab, I shook hands with them, and confidant with their efforts, returned to my own work.  "I thought I asked you to watch those workers?", inquired my employer.  I reported their efforts and returned to my own job.  Mark, the employer, was visibly upset and I sensed a more deviant distress that I did not share his southern values.  Again, he told me to go watch them until they had finished.  Again, I went to check on the crew.  I began to question the 'hat' to which I was forced to wear by this company, and I recognized that I would have to either waffle on my values, or accept the fact that I could not continue to work for a bigot.  As the days began to blend together, Mark recruited me to ride along to his home for an odd-job.  In the past few weeks, there had been opportunities to shine under most hats, from assembling servers to installing network equipment.  This had led to more and more hats, some of which I had no clue how to support.  All the same, Mark had made a sincere effort to include me in operations far removed from my hired status, and even so, had began introducing me to his sales team.  At his home, he seemed genuinely interested in my thoughts, even asking me how I felt about watching those niggers.  "Mark, this is the first time I have worked for someone so comfortable being a bigot."  I expected a reprisal that would cost me my job.  However, that was not the case.  It was as if the label had no affect and it incited what sounded more like a revival speech for white-supremacy than a defense for his character.  It wasn't a month before I began to see the writing on the wall, as co-workers distanced themselves and management reduced my access to company assets.  On one day, I was accused of fraternizing and was called into the office.  As Mark's dad began his slow rehearsed speech, I blurted out, "I quit."  "You can't quit.  YOU ARE FIRED!"  Relieved, I smiled, stood, thanked him for the opportunity, experience, and training, and dropped the keys on the desk.