Hammering Through: Resisting Racial Prejudice, Systemic Biases, and Discriminating Setbacks in the Construction Industry in the Usa

By Sylveste Augustus

A primary purpose for writing this book is to reveal highlights of the kinds of struggles people of certain origins usually encounter when they migrate to developed countries such as the United States of American. The story shows how practices of discrimination, prejudice, segregation, and institutional racism, and other employment mal practices can adversely affect the lives of honest, hardworking, legal migrants as well as their descendants.

This is a true story about a refugee from Africa who needed more than determination and perseverance to endure hardship, discrimination, segregation, and racist practices in order to properly support his family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781796096101

Book preview

The New Terrain

The following pages contain the stories of how I came to USA, and of my struggle to survive in this highly competitive society, with all its isms, and -tisms; taxes, other pecuniary demands, and stereo-typical characterizations, along with the overwhelming need to compete: unlike the environment from where I came. The contrast mainly exists in the literacy to illiteracy rates in my original homeland, where I was among the privileged. Although a view at the whole picture attempts to infuse doubt and despair, I saw the possibility of subduing the challenges because there were some men of African descent (African-Americans), within the construction industry where I obliged myself professionally, who totally deserve to be commended and recognized for their fortitude and perseverance, even though they were born and raised in the USA. In other words, there were men of color just like me who’d been in the construction industry for decades; and they had so far accomplished a good deal while working in this seasonal, semi-permanent industry. The culture and practices in this construction industry is stacked against them, as I observed from within and I soon learned that this was a systemic culture that even I will be impacted by especially with my raw Liberian accent. These African Americans men who had become coworkers, told of how they had raised families with children who had completed university studies and lived decent, affluent lives. I wondered how they made it through, and the reality of their achievements reinforced my hope of succeeding in a very hazardous and difficult industry. This is my account. The compulsion to tell this story is overwhelming, because the crude, draconian practices that normally occur on construction projects may be unknown to many; including individuals born in this society and minorities intending to work in construction. People who love and are enjoying the comforts of their homes and luxurious office buildings, have no clue about what the craftsmen and builders of these structures must endure. The nature of the work is tough and can easily be subdued; but the operational culture is a whole different, unpredictable ‘ball game’. The plain truth about how challenging it can be to live above the poverty line and thrive while working in this industry can be known only by insiders or their immediate relatives. For instance, not many people are aware of how being of certain demographic background, may determine one’s chances for promotion or essentially the level of a person’s glass ceiling in this industry. Workers within the white-collar bureaucracy and other sales & service industries, outside of commercial construction, have no clue how rigid and vicious the work environment is for the people who construct these huge beautiful bridges, highways, and sky-scrapers in which they work, on which they travel; structures in which they work and find shelters during commutes, and the beautiful monuments that preserve the histories of nations. There exist untold, unwritten, rules that make success easily foreseeable for some and usually impossible for others, based on very personal identities. My experiences as lamented in this book will attempt to shed some light on many of the incredibly discriminatory practices that impact a mirage of struggling workers in the construction field; threatening, ushering them onto the verge of economic collapse, and indirectly, but significantly influencing the lives of their children and other family members. Basically, I’m persuaded to conclude that slavery hasn’t truly been totally eradicated from our society. Apart from the meager wages, that come in seasons, and are temporary, working as a tradesman or laborer in the commercial construction industry is the new slave labor. White-collar workers may pride themselves in the impression that they don’t do manual, but cerebral work; but the blue-collar workers like myself must perform cerebrally and manually under strenuous, rapid, tense and hazardous conditions.

This story of my professional experiences may reveal more difficulties compared to others; but I am sure that there are many who may have had worse experiences working in this industry, in the Washington Metropolitan Area. Many have simply made no attempt to document their stories for the entire nation to understand how they struggled immensely in order to earn a decent living.

In Transit

On the night of December 31st, 1989, I arrived in Danane, Republique de Cote D’Ivoire (or Republic of Ivory Coast) along with my fiancée and son, fleeing the bloody – and senseless - Liberian civil war that had already claimed more than a million lives after less than a year. My family and I attended the Watch Night Service and spent the night with relatives in their small rented rooms. I woke up along with my son and his mother, my fiancée, in a tiny house that was apparently built just for sleeping. As a matter of fact, that model of houses in this extremely hot and remote village near the Liberian northern border, was rightly called entrée coucher; meaning enter to sleep. We had become refugees: penniless, owning nothing, having no job or constructive task to occupy our time. However, we were very, very thankful to be out of the warzone in our native land. Sharing that tiny (120square foot) wing of the duplex was easier to take, knowing where we had come from.

Praise God, this was a transitional phase of our journey to find normalcy and peace. After many months of toiling in this previously unknown village, we soon found ourselves on top of a list of qualified refugees that were bound for the United States of America. The two years and a-half spent waiting went by real fast, considerably. And on September 2nd, 1992, I arrived in the United States of America with several family members, including my wife and two sons.

Spending my adult life and raising my children in the United States of America was nowhere in my ambition, desire, of plan for life. When I was asked about my ambition as a prelude or precursor to compiling the aspirations of my high school senior classmates for oratory highlights on seniors’ Class Night; a customary celebration observed during the graduation programs in Liberia: I told my class that my plan was to become a civil engineer: hopefully working on bridges and high-rises in Liberia. I had no plans to be in the USA at this stage of my life. My original plan was to obtain an undergraduate degree in the United States and return to Liberia. I knew quite well that Liberia needed civil engineers, and other college graduates more than a developed country like the USA. Additionally, the competition in the labor market was more favorable for college graduates in Liberia compared to the USA, especially if the college degree had been obtained in the United States. That is basically how the United States became a part of my career journey when colleagues and foreign friends of my father referenced many institutions around the world that would offer sound educational support for fulfilling my quest for a solid career in civil engineering.

This ambitious plan however did not materialize. And when it was evident to me that I had to stand on my own two feet at an early age, not certain of attending college in USA, I decided to enroll at the vocational school that was scheduled to be opened in 1980. This institution offered training in four career disciplines: Accounting/Bookkeeping, Building Construction Technology/Carpentry & Joinery, Building Construction Technology/Masonry, and Secretarial Science. I decided to study carpentry and became a carpenter after 3 years of full-time training at the Catholic-run Arthur Barclay Technical Institute: one of the first two recipients of the City & Guilds of London Certificate in this area of building trade in Liberia. I passed the internationally administered three-phase examination with distinction, and earned the higher scores of the two awardees. I became an independent, self-employed carpenter for many years until I sought enrollment at the University of Liberia.

One day, after a pre-admission interview, while exiting the university campus, I saw my father’s name among others, carved on the concrete cornerstone at the university’s entrance. That was an eye-opener to me; and made feel that I belonged in the student body. After all, earning an undergraduate degree in the university where my father served on the Board of Directors was befitting and would’ve made my family proud. A surge of pride and belonging filled my heart and mind as I read through the inscriptions on the concrete cornerstone plaque. Wish I had seen that inscription ten years ago, in 1977, when I came to register and sit for the entrance exam to the only state-owned university in Monrovia. As I toured the campus on my next visit, I encountered a gentleman, whose father was a staunch supporter of my father as a legislator in the Liberian House of Representatives from his home county: Grand Bassa. The casual meeting soon turned to business discussion and possible employment at the university. Because this gentleman, who was the General Services director at the time, had no vacancy for carpenters, he asked if I would accept a position as a lead janitor, with a chance of being the second shift supervisor in the months ahead. I spontaneously accepted. I needed stability of income as I anticipated the pursuit of a bachelors’ degree at the university. So, the decision was a ‘no-brainer’ to me; and he, being General Services Director, needed stability on the evening shift janitorial staff at the university. This director resigned a few weeks later and moved on for family reasons, but my work ethics was noticed by his successor and the university’s Vice President for Administration. After few months of employment as janitorial supervisor, at the university, I was recommended to serve as the chief carpenter at the university upon the opening of a second campus and relocation within the facility maintenance workforce. Being the newest carpenter and the most lettered among the workshop crew, I understood the reason for my preference to become the chief carpenter. However, after careful introspective analysis, I declined the offer or nomination. Intuitively, I felt that many of those tradesmen, who had been serving the university for extended period, will have disliked the appointment of a person so new to the organization, and may have failed to cooperate or support my leadership. And when decisions are made in such manner, those who feel overlooked or disrespected, use unconventional acts, including witchcraft, to annihilate any perceived obstacle. So, I did not want to become the object of resentment or any witchcraft. But after careful consideration, I presented a more uniquely reconciliatory recommendation. I asked that a new position [Assistant Maintenance Officer] be created for me and suggested that the most senior and outspoken carpenter be appointed chief carpenter. The Vice President for Administration was extremely impressed with my recommendation and vision, and he immediately approved and initiated the recommendation. For me at this point, the road forward was very promising, because I was a third-year accounting student, fully employed as Assistant Maintenance Officer at the University. As for extracurricular activity, I played soccer for the faculty of the nation’s highest institution of learning and became a member of the band. There was absolutely no reason for me to want to leave my home country at that stage. So, thanks to a senseless civil war, here I was in the United States of America struggling and competing among a workforce loaded with many who had no college degree. And in many cases as I learned, they didn’t even complete high school. There were also ex-convicts [no harm intended] among the workforce. Without any reasonable reference to my skill level or any personal connection to guarantee long-term employment, I will not have bargained for this situation at this stage of my life if I had a clear choice.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) the proposed rail system project was a huge undertaking for the capital region, including the District of Columbia and immediate urban communities. This was the largest job-creating project since the 2007 – 2009 economic depression, in which the unemployment rate reached record high. The proposal to build a new rail had been approved for construction to help eliminate or