For wanting to be a successful and cultivated young man in a world where that is condemned more than rewarded. I entered the highest house of learning of our flooded, yet beautiful state. That does not mean I am an extraordinary student, but I can boast that I graduated with an average high enough to earn automatic degree conferral. But my odyssey and folly of wanting to study did not end there; I put myself at the ready to attend any talk or conference that did or did not have to do with my major. I became simply and plainly a jack-of-all-trades with a degree in administration, a full-fledged licentiate. But to this day I do not complain of that; I mean I am happy with everything I have learned, but my goal was not only to learn but to practice my profession, so I set out in search of a place that would let me learn more and apply everything I had learned over these six years, and as you rightly suppose that is where my mistake was…
I left my house with my grades, diplomas, and certificates in hand on a Thursday; I chose the day because I mistakenly thought it was a good day to answer the job applications I was buried under; Thursday is the next-to-last day of the workweek, bosses are neither too saturated nor too indifferent, so my first stop was a well-known hotel hidden on a little side street off Paseo Tabasco. They received me, urged me to take a seat, and the first thing, once into the conversation, they asked was that I tell them about my previous jobs…“previous jobs!!??, well only if my social service counts because the truth is sir I have not yet had the pleasure of working for any company,” that is where it all began; they nearly kicked me out “what do you think young man!, do you believe those dazzling grades can give you the three years of experience we require!, there is no work in this organization for you, have a good day…” It seemed truly stupid to me. Obviously the grades were not going to give me the experience; they were going to give me the experience!, but anyway, I put a little check mark and headed to my next stop with my spirits returned. “We’re sorry!, we need someone with enough experience”…mmhh!…”We understand but you must understand that our category demands a person with the requirements we request and one of them is experience”…mmhhmmhh!…”Look the administrator position requires experience but we have two vacancies in the laundry area that if you want…well”…wash your own head better!…”Sorry we’re looking for someone of mature age”…Those and many other excuses I had to hear that wretched Thursday. But I am stubborn and I went back Friday…the same, Monday…the same and for the rest of the next two weeks I went through every high- or low-category job corresponding to my degree and in none of them could they take the “risk” of giving me a chance without my having the required experience.
It was not until Tuesday of the following week that I surrendered to defeat. I could not explain how every company asked for the now longed-for experience. I could not understand how we new professionals could ever get ahead someday if we were not given the benefit of acquiring this skill; in that case our species and any other that needed 3 years of experience would inevitably go extinct. How can you have people with experience, with wisdom, with the famous “edge,” if there is no opportunity to prepare them. My knowledge turned from pride into an enormous sack of cement I now carried on my back; I did not need it if I could not use it for a damn thing. I was not disillusioned with the companies, the jobs, the “bosses”; I was furious with them; so furious that I began stringing curses under my breath in the taxi taking me back home. My annoyance was so noticeable that the taxi driver could not help asking if my day had been bad, and between complaints and whimpers I told him everything that had happened to me in the last three weeks; I condemned to exhaustion, one by one, all the different companies that “request” work. The taxi driver showed his sensitivity to my desperation. To my desire just to find a job that would let me live, since my aspirations to practice my profession were on the verge of vanishing, and he suggested I accompany him to see his boss… For wanting to be cultured I ended up cultivating the passengers of my taxi. Not only that but to this day I have resolved more than fourteen labor disputes, I have given away splendid ideas, “superlative” according to those who get out praising me and wishing me success, I have given lectures on administrative history, I have solved a thousand homework assignments from primary school up to doctoral ones, I am a legend among the coworkers on my shift, I administer for them and solve their accounting and legal problems, hell! I even swallow their sorrows and give them solutions, all from the driver’s seat that each day has the shape of my body more deeply engraved. And so between shift and shift, between stop and stop, I plan my great ideas, I save three pesos to see if in another six years I manage to open a little shop and dedicate myself to what is mine. Even though I am completely convinced that what I studied was good for nothing, even though now I wait to find some degree in public transportation. Don’t think I am complaining; that is what I get for being young and wanting to practice my profession when this, my reluctant land, was designed for people with three years of experience…MINIMUM!!…