TOKEN

Two weeks into my senior year of high school, Sister William, the new counselor, met with each senior. She was disappointed that I had no plans to attend college. She voiced a good pitch for Xavier University. Thinking she’d sold me on the idea, she asked, “Now don’t you want to go to Xavier.”

When I replied in the negative, she said, “You’re a headstrong and willful young woman.” She pointed to the door and continued, “Get out of my office and don’t come back until you change your mind.”

My picture appeared on the front page of the #Prepper, our school newspaper, with my tennis partner Cheryl Lynn. We got #Lettered along with the guys at an end of the year sports banquet. High school was almost over and I was flying high when Sr. William called me into her office again.

“I see,” she said, “that you haven’t applied to any colleges despite being qualified for a work study scholarship.”

I told her once again that I had no plans to attend.

As she began her spiel on why I should attend Xavier University, she must have realized that I was the headstrong and willful girl, because she stopped and invited me to leave her office. The following week she called me in again.

“You have an appointment downtown,” she began, “for a job interview with Equitable Life Assurance Company. You will meet with #FritzTempleman on Monday. Wear your uniform and remember that you are representing The Prep.”

She continued with their reason. It seems the #NAACP had been after them for not having any visible Black faces. I would work in #AssuredHomeMortgages and sit in the middle of the office. I had to pass a five-minute typing test with at least thirty words typed accurately. She agreed that while this was a full-time position, they hoped I would agree to a fifteen-month limited term. Sr. William assured them that being in the top ten percent of the class, I was anxious to attend college in the fall of 1970. In return, they would give me a sterling reference.

Mr. Templeman reiterated the things my counselor stated. I had to pass a physical and could begin work on the Monday following graduation. A ’69 graduate from our rival school #SaintMarysAcademy would also begin on that day as the receptionist. I would not be alone. Could anything be easier?

Of course not. I flunked the physical. My #HeartMurmur reared its ugly head. It took two weeks for Equitable to check with my doctor, pharmacist, and school (thank God for tennis) to know that I was quite fit. Though Brenda and I got along famously, we only socialized away from the office. I was her #PBX relief for breaks and lunch.

I broke in my new #SingerZigZag #sewingmachine Mother gave me as a #graduation gift and made a new #wardrobe. While doing a good job, filing, posting outgoing mail on the #addressograph, and managing to type insurance forms with seven #carboncopies, I learned the downtown business district. These were the ins and outs that my brothers and I never saw walking with Mother on weekends. I could walk through buildings for two blocks only having to leave their safety to cross the street. I made deposits at three banks on a daily basis.

At first Fritz walked with me, either as a bodyguard or because of a lack of trust. On my first day, I made a comment about his #signature and stated with an artist eye, how easy it was to copy. He and his assistant insisted that nobody could copy the #scribble. My copy was perfect. They gave each other a look that said hide the #blankchecks.

I enjoyed the freedom of the half hour walking breaks. I spent a few extra minutes at #WhitneyBank talking with #DorothyStory. She admired the clothes I wore, but knew they were homemade. We talked sewing and about her daughter Cynthia, a teacher. Our conversations were brief. She had customers and I had other banks to walk to. We remained friends long after Whitney and Equitable Life.

~~

Unfortunately all my coworkers were not as welcoming as Dorothy, but only one was outwardly nasty. Ira Schultz was an important part of each day. He was the accountant, the man from whom I was to get the daily deposits. After a few weeks, he refused to hand anything to me and he didn’t want me near his desk. Bill Roberts, Fritz’ assistant, met with him first. Then Mr. Templeman threatened to fire him. Ira picked up his jacket and left.

Ira returned in a week. Fritz didn’t back down. He had the support of corporate and Ira was at an age when retirement could well have been mandatory. Ira never looked at me, but left the deposit bags on his desk for me to pick up.

The other hard case was Frances Chirino. She’d enjoyed being the only minority in the office. Born in #Hawaii, she had a #Cuban husband that worked on the #StockExchange, she felt equal to and above everyone else. Until I came, she was Mrs. Chirino. All the women were Miss or Mrs., but no one was willing to call me Miss in 1969. All the men remained Mister and all the women were on a first name basis. They changed my name to Debbie because it sounded friendly.

Frances asked for two weeks off to visit her parents and friends in Hawaii during her husband’s two-week vacation. Fritz said that she could only take one. She was chastised when she returned two weeks later. She was only paid for one week. However, she returned wearing pants, a no-no in Corporate America.

Those of us sitting close to Mr. Templeman’s office could hear her side of the argument and others found things that needed to be delivered to his secretary Hazel Centanni. Frances insisted #culottes were not pants, but the height of fashion and her suit definitely cost more than his.

After her second unpaid week, during which she must have sought other employment, she returned and attacked me. She told me that I didn’t belong there. Blacks were uneducated and lazy. Then she stood and leaned over her desk and told me how her Chinese grandfather gained wealth by stealing it all from the #indigenous #Hawaiians.

~~

As #HurricaneCamille swirled about in the Gulf, excitement filled the office. There were debates on whether to stay in the city or leave. At the last minute, sisters Cynthia and Diane Williams took their families and went to stay with relatives on the #MississippiGulfCoast, one of the hardest hit areas.

At home, we still didn’t have a television, so I’d neither seen nor heard of #StarTrek. Had I known about computers and the future, I would have been better able to understand why a huge portion of the office space was enclosed in glass to keep our mile long computer going just to print paychecks. Our Mr. Spock’s name was #CatherineFolse.

In October, cousin Marie Louise and her children went to #SoulBowl70 and invited me to join them. I’d been to #TulaneStadium as a child for a huge religious event. I’d never been to a concert and looked forward to seeing some of my favorite recording artists like #RareEarth and #JrWalker.

Glen, Marie’s youngest only wanted to see #IkeandTinaTurner. Everyone was there to see a great show and have a good time. #JamesBrown, #IsaacHayes, #PGandE #PacificGasandElectric were also in the lineup.

Outside of work, Brenda introduced me to her family. Her dad, Charles and two of her brothers worked at #GusBetat bicycle shop on #TulaneAvenue. One of her favorite pastime was shopping. I went along even though I made all my clothes and was saving my money for college. We sometimes stopped at #Jeans or #LadyOris for hosiery. We biked around her #RoyalStreet neighborhood. Sometimes, her dad took out the bicycle built for four and we’d ride on the levee near #HolyCross High School and into neighboring #SaintBernardParish. They always put me on the tail end and laughed as I tried to stay balanced.

Sometimes, we went to nightclubs. Brenda was asked to dance, while I sat and sipped #TomCollins cocktails. When my cousin Althea visited, she joined us as we bowled and skated.

On #TwelfthNight, the entire office, salesman, sales support, and our office, including Brenda who was allowed to put the PBX on hold, gathered in the breakroom for a short #KingCakeparty. I’d never heard of King Cake. Lead sales secretary #MargieMcAdams was happy to explain it to me and #RuthieSchindler whispered in advance that if the baby wasn’t found, it meant that #JimKinney swallowed it. No baby was found in one of the king cakes.

Back in our office, Fritz and Bill gossiped with the trainees Chuck Datres and Phil Maisano about Jim, a known cheapskate, top salesman, and his wife who might have been in the early stages of dementia.

Bryan was hired in the summer as the #NewBusinessSupervisor. Much of his time was spent phoning his fiancée and planning their wedding. He invited the entire office. Brenda and I attended. Neither of us had ever heard of a #receivingline.

Brenda took a vacation midsummer and went to #Disneyland. My mentor #PatAlleman asked if I’d ever been to California. I told her I was going for my birthday, my last day of work. Brenda studied all year to be a stewardess. She and I were leaving Equitable about the same time. Another #token minority was hired to replace us. she appeared to be #EastIndian. We worked with her for two weeks. During that time, she began choking while sipping a soda.

Pat asked, “Did it go down the wrong pipe?”

The girl replied, “No, my #epiglottis didn’t close.”

Pat looked askance at the new hire and then looked at Brenda and me, “I’m going to miss you two,” she said, raising her eyebrows toward the girl.

Equitable threw a going away party for me. When asked what I was going to do, Fritz said, “She’s going to college,” while I replied, “I’m leaving for California tonight.”

“Why didn’t you tell us,” Pat asked.

I reminded her that I had and she said, “Oh, I thought you were joking.” That was pretty much the response every time I made a statement that didn’t suit their ethnic stereotype during my fifteen-month stay.