Getting a job done Essay -- essays research papers

Getting a Job From I Know Why the Caged maam SingsMy room had all the cheeriness of a dungeon and the appeal of a tomb. It was going away to be impossible to stay there, but leaving held no haul for me, either.The answer came to me with the suddenness of a collision. I would go to work. pay off wouldnt be difficult to convince after all, in trail I was a year ahead of my grade and mother was a firm believer in self-sufficiency. In fact, shed be smiling to think that I had that much gumption, that much of her in my character. (she deald to let out of herself as the original do-it-yourself girl.)Once I had settled on getting a job, all that remained was to decide which kind of job I was most fitted for. My intellectual pride had kept me from selecting typing, shorthand, or filing as subjects in school, so office work was ruled out. War plants and shipyards demanded induce certificates, and mine would reveal me to be fifteen, and ineligible for work. So the well-paying defense jobs were in like manner out. Women had replaced men on the street machines as conductors and motormen, and the thought of sailing up and bulge the hills of San Francisco in a dark-blue uniform, with a money modifier gene at my belt, caught my fancy.Mother was as easy as I had anticipated. The world was touching so fast, so much money was being made, so many an(prenominal) people were dying in Guam, and Germany, that hordes of strangers became good friends overnight. Life was cheap and ending entirely free. How could she have the time to think closely my academic vocation?To her question of what I planned to do, I replied that I would get a job on the streetcars. She rejected the proposal with they dont acquire colored people on streetcars.I would like to claim an agile fury which was followed by the noble determination to break the restricting tradition. just the truth is, my first reaction was one of disappointment. Id visualise myself, dressed in a neat blue serge suit , my money changer swinging jauntily at my waist, and a cheery smile for the passengers which would cook up their own work day brighter.From disappointment, I gradually ascended the emotion separate to haughty indignation, and finally to the state of stubbornness where the mind is blocked like the jaws of an enraged bulldog.I would go to work on the streetcars and wear a blue serge suit. Mother gave me her support with one of her usual terse asid... ...ouble when you charter double.She stayed awake to drive me out to the car barn at quaternary thirty in the mornings, or to pick me up when I was better just before dawn. Her awareness of lifes perils convinced her that maculation I would be safe on the public conveyances, she wasnt about to trust a taxi driver with her baby.When the spring classes began, I resumed my commission with formal education. I was so much wiser and older, so much more than independent, with a bank account and clothes that I had bought for myself, tha t I was authentic that I had learned and earned the magic formula which would make me a part of the gay life my contemporaries led.Not a potato chip of it. Within weeks, I realized that my schoolmates and I were on paths moving diametrically away from each other. They were concerned and excited over the approaching football games, but I had in my immediate past raced a car down a dark and foreign Mexican mountain. They concentrated vast interest on who was worthy of being student body president, and when the metallic element bands would be removed from their teeth, while I remembered sleeping for a calendar month in a wrecked automobile and conducting a streetcar in the uneven hours of the morning.