Rejected Job Candidate Wants Respect

Recently, like so many other unemployed people, I went to an an interview and received not a job, but a lesson in life. Why is it so difficult for would-be employers to be direct and honest with job candidates?

My last experience was perhaps the most disillusioning, and no doubt the experience of many job seekers in that cold world of the job-hunting jungle.

I had submitted my resume to a company in town, which invited me not to one, but three interviews. This involved an extensive commute on my part, but a worthwhile investment of time and energy, I reasoned. After all, that these people seemed to mean business.

During the interviews, it was pointed out that the organization, owned by a large corporation, appreciated the contributions that could be made by people of diverse ethnic and cultural backgrounds, such as a Hispanic like myself. Indeed, it would be an asset to have on board a person with my skills and work experience.

I was sold. As a “top candidate” for the job, I was instructed to complete the supposed “last stage” in the hiring process and take a drug screening test--which in layman terms means urinalysis. A disconcerting but understandable prerequisite, given the problems with substance abuse in the workplace. I would be called on Monday as to the company’s decision.

Monday rolled around and no call. A few days later, I called them. An answering machine greeted me. I left a message. At the end of the week a return message was left on my answering machine saying that as a “finalist,” I was to complete writing exercises--consisting of 10 pieces of material--which would be mailed to me over the weekend. I had already taken two tests at the initial interview. Assignments in the mail? And delivered over the weekend? Looking over the material, a sizable amount of work, I reasoned I was in no position to quibble, even if it did resemble something out of one of those cheesy courses by mail. Besides, I was not only a top candidate but a finalist.

I promptly completed the exercises and hand-delivered rather than mailed them. Another investment of time and energy. The manager who first interviewed me apologized for the inconvenience and assured me I would be contacted. No call came. Talk about waiting for Godot. Finally, I called and was told I would be contacted on Wednesday with their decision.

No call came. I began feeling like a jilted lover who wasn’t getting the message. By now I had awoken and smelled the coffee grounds. I called the hiring manager to confirm that I hadn’t gotten the job. Again, I got the answering machine. I then called the two other departments in which I was interviewed. One representative said the company had decided to hire from within. The other said they had already hired from outside.

Current political candidates give straighter answers. I accept that I put my best foot forward but was not selected. I’d had the experience before of being rejected. However, in this case I had not only cooperated beyond the call of duty, but even disrobed and, excuse my bluntness, provided bodily fluid for this company. Didn’t I at least deserve a minimum of common courtesy, such as a form letter of rejection? A call? Some kind of explanation? (At this point, I’d even settle for a token message on my answering machine.) Weeks later, in what seemed like an afterthought, the hiring manager called to say--you guessed it--another person had already been hired, that “it was a coin toss” as to who was finally chosen.

As a friend of mine, a manager experienced in interviewing job applicants, noted, employers are understandably faced with the task of screening numerous potential employees, especially during these trying times when there is great competition for jobs. As for myself, a so-called “top candidate” and later a “finalist” (as if I were in a beauty contest), I have little doubt a company that describes itself as professional should communicate promptly, and without mincing words, with those people it considers seriously for employment. This goes double for a company, such as the one noted in this commentary, that calls itself an equal opportunity employer. Indeed, there is equal opportunity here--for each applicant to be treated as less than zero.

By exercising amateurism, an organization is telling talented people that this is really not the kind of company to work for after all. And, in time to come--never underestimate the power of word of mouth--such job seekers won’t even bother to apply. Instead, what will be left over are less able applicants willing to hassle with what apparently is a mediocre company with lousy hiring manners.

In the future I’ll think thrice before subjecting myself again to the humbling experience of a paper garment and specimen cup. This recent episode is just one more case for self-employment. At least I know I will be dealing with an upfront and courteous employer--myself.