Life has a peculiar way of educating one about themself. Within the past few months I have learned an all to pressing fact about myself. I tend to omit one word from something that I read, heard, or even said. This became ever-present once again on Tuesday when I went to the Job Fair at Navy Pier. I am sorry that was the Diversity Job Fair.
The news paper said it was just a job fair and the internet said it was a diversity job fair. There was even a pie chart of the race demographic in Chicago. Uncertain of the turn out, I drove into the city and parked for what cost about thirty cents a minute.
I entered Navy Pier with shirt and tie, carrying my new resume and revived hope soon to be crushed. Matters were worsened when I was walking for about half a mile on the pier and still did not see the room. I was also getting these strange looks from people. What I thought was just me being in a tie at a tourist spot was almost right. They were all looking at me strangely because I was the only white guy in a shirt and tie.
Every sign there said "diversity job fair." Upon recieving this bushel of lemons I made lemonade by telling myself that mathematically I can be the most memorable white person there, plus if I were to be questioned about ethnicity I could tell them that I and the other five whites there that couldn't read were technically a minority.
After going to a job fair for college students at Marquette and then this fiasco, I have come to the conclusion that diversity job fair is code for crap job festival. I went over to a hotel's booth and asked what positions were availible. A man with broken English scrolled his finger down a paper passing housekeeper, room attendant, etc. Thankfully this job fair opens avenues that most minorities could not obtain on their own, like becoming a hotel housekeeper.
Before leaving the job fair I realized something else. No matter where you are in life there will always be someone/thing close to you that you simply don't want to associate with. There were two companies that were the pariahs. Terminex and Waste Management. It should not take four years of college to realize that those jobs suck. What do you do? I kill bugs. I work for curbside restoration- uhh garbage man.
Maybe my cinicism stems from the body language of employers that were playing the role of everything but that. I think the $14 penalty for parking for 45 minutes was icing on my multicultural cake. All in all, it was another experience that is helping to revive my apathy for the workplace. Which could only mean that I am close to returning.