The senior manager of the bank was an intimidating man, brawny with wide shoulders, thick salt and peppery hair and light blue eyes that were completely devoid of any warmth. His tie was tucked behind his jacket just so, and his hands were folded together tightly on his desk, directly on top of Marie's resumé. He stared rudely at Marie, methodically taking in every part of her person. On the street, his gaze would have been taken as rude, likely sexual, and Marie would have felt helpless and intimidated. But here, in his fluorescent lit office, Marie was able to return his stare with a smile. On the street, a five-foot, one hundred pound African American woman may be helpless in the face of a powerful white male, but in the office? In the office, Marie knew she could win. Knew that this was the only place she could beat a man like him.
"You come well recommended," he said to her gruffly, suddenly. "But you lack work experience. What makes you think you are qualified to work at my branch?"
Marie did not hesitate in her reply. "Although I have not worked in the banking sector specifically, I have taken a number of accounting classes at the university. I have acted as treasurer of my church for the past two years, and have been in sole control of our donation funds much longer than that. With a solid history of financial experience behind me, I feel I am finally ready to make an occupation in the banking world." What she did not add was, "And I lack work experience because people like you won't hire me. Where in the world, besides the church, does he expect a Negro female to get any sort of work experience outside of cooking and cleaning?" Her smile never wavered as the manager considered her answer.
Truthfully, it really did not matter what Marie replied. Mr. Adamson had done his homework- he had meant it when he said Marie had come well qualified. She reportedly had graduated top of her class in both high school and her accounting class, even beating out many white students for the spot of valedictorian. And the pressure from above was great. Detroit was one of the last Northern branches of City Financial banks to have an all-white staff, and they were finally being forced to integrate. No, what Mr. Adamson was assessing as he continued to stare unreservedly at Marie was not her hiring potential, but rather, her potential as a threat. How would hiring a Negro change his bank? After all, in the past twenty three years he had worked at the downtown branch of City Financial, he had never even serviced a Negro, let alone hire one. But this small, young Negro woman did not scare him. Freshly graduated from her accounting course, he could stick her in a tellers booth and forget