How to Not Fill Out A Job Application by K.M. Rockwood

As with most authors, my own experiences often show up, in one form or another, in my writing.

I’ve started a short story, and what has emerged is based on a situation I encountered at one of my jobs. The primary character is fictionalized, but he owes much of his existence to Joe.

I was working in a large state prison, with a work crew of about 10 prison inmates.

The administration in a correctional institution is anxious to assign as many inmates as possible to work details. Often this results in a very light load for everyone, and time to deal with other matters.

Many of the men on my crew were nearing possible parole release. The best way to get there was to find an outside job and be transferred to a work-release program.

My crew would discuss what positions might be open to them, what to put on the applications, and how to handle the interview.

They were pretty successful at getting jobs. Until it came to Joe.

Joe came from a sprawling family back in the hills where everybody prided themselves on hard work, but nobody “worked for wages.” They’d take on jobs for pay, in cash, but nothing was ever in writing. Their word was sacred, and if they agreed to do a job, it would be done. Properly.

Obviously, Joe would have to compromise on that.

When he got parole, he could move back into the family “home place,” so he had a home plan.

Unfortunately, that was in West Virginia, and we were in a Maryland prison. To get parole moved out of state he’d need to post a substantial bond. He’d have to save up the money from a work release job.

Given his background, we knew he’d struggle with an interview, so several of us were prepared to help him with practice sessions as soon as he got word he was scheduled for one.

He started filling out any application available.

But no one scheduled an interview with him.

We tried to figure out why.

Any employer who was dropping off applications to be filled out at a state prison already had a pretty good idea that the applicants were going to be convicted felons, so that couldn’t be the problem.

Some convictions are more problematic than others. Embezzlement meant no one would hire you to handle money. Drug convictions meant that an employer who was afraid he already might have a problem with drugs among his current employees would not want you. Any kind of sex offense would scare off a lot of employers, especially ones who worked with the public.

Joe had a manslaughter conviction resulting from a bar brawl. It was a Saturday night, and he’d been very drunk. So drunk he couldn’t recall much of what happened. He conceded that he’d probably killed the guy, even if he didn’t remember the details, and took a plea bargain.

As far as hiring a convicted felon, that was about as good as it gets. If he didn’t drink on the job, he should be as reliable as the next guy.

Joe was reasonably literate. He’d earned a GED in prison; you needed to have completed high school one way or another to work in the library.

Interviewing poorly would mean you might not be offered the job. But not to even get any interviews?

I finally told Joe to bring in the next application for me to check over before he handed it in.

When he showed up with one, I started going over it.

I half-expected to see that he’d added his commitment number behind his name in the first blank. After several years of always putting your number on anything you filled out, it became such second nature that some people did it without thinking.

Potential employers read that as a sign that the inmate was so firmly acclimated to prison life that he might have trouble adjusting to an outside job.

But Joe hadn’t done that.

I continued to read it.

He used the prison’s address. To be expected. Social Security number. Birthdate. So far so good.

Then I came to the blank labeled  “sex.”

I looked up at him. “Joe. You’re supposed to put down ‘M’ for male.”

He looked surprised. “Really?”

“And what did you put down?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it did seem like a funny question, but I thought they were asking if I wanted to have sex. Of course I want to have sex.  I been locked up for seven years. So, I put down ‘yes.’”

Once we cleared up that little misunderstanding, he got the next interview and the next job.