The Color of Persistence

By Arame Richardson

In a society where the system is broken and designed to favor a set of people at the expense of the rest, only the strong survive. I am Coumba, and this is my breakthrough story as a Black immigrant living in America.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638148814

Book preview

Introduction

Iguess it’s safe to say that as kids growing up, we never really understood what the concept of adulthood entailed. Naive and inquisitive, especially for those of us who came from average or poor families, becoming an adult appeared to be our only path to freedom. Now that we have come of age, it has become crystal clear that those were all illusions. Life isn’t a bed of roses, and that’s just the way it is.

The only part we can play in this game called life is how we react to life’s challenges. You want happiness? Create your happiness. You want peace? Make peace with yourself. You’re faced with obstacles and challenges on your path to achieving your goal? Face them.

If you don’t know how to face life squarely, then it’s a good thing you are about to hear my story.

Chapter 1

How It All Began

There were several stops on the road to acclimating to my present-day home. One of those road stops along the way led me to truck driving, with my ex-husband, Jeremiah, catching my attention after just a few months of commercial driving license school (CDL). With less than three months on the job, he would call me from other states, saying, All I do is sit, go to different places, and get paid.

I did not pay him any mind until he mentioned the money. No doubt, I like the money. As an immigrant, all I do is calculate nickels and pennies, robbing Peter to pay Paul. Whenever I take nine steps up, it seems that something contrary happens, and I take another nine steps back. For instance, my car breaks down, and it’s something the warranty may not cover. In some cases, I lose a job because of a sick child or even a social isolation; and during social isolation, people ostracize you for just about anything. It’s either you don’t talk like them, you don’t look like them, or you don’t eat what they eat. Regardless, I digress.

When Jeremiah told me that he was making $1,200 weekly, I went crazy. I mean here I am with a bachelor’s degree on the way, a background in nursing, and an AA degree under my belt. Like, I speak four languages, yet money still eludes me? I mean it’s such a pity because I like to travel. At that point, I really needed to find more money!

I have made long drives a few times. The first time was when my ex-boyfriend Sami left me hanging in Orlando, Florida. At the time, Sami and I took a vacation to Orlando with his son Beau and my twin daughters, Sofiétou and Fatima. After being in Florida for just two days, Beau’s mother suddenly requested that Beau come back so that he could return to school after his spring break. Apparently Beau and his mom lived in Virginia while we lived in Baltimore. However, it never crossed our minds that different school systems would have vacationed at different times. Because of this, Sami’s first port of call was getting his son on a plane back to Virginia alone. When the airline company refused to let him travel by himself, Sami took the flight with him without even saying goodbye.

After waiting at the airport for several hours, it dawned on me that the little bastard had abandoned me in Orlando. As a result, I had a rental car, my little girls, and a fourteen-hour drive ahead of me.

The next long trip that I made happened five years later. I drove Monsignor Beaujolais, a patient and dear friend of mine, from Baltimore to his hometown in Louisiana. It was during that trip that I realized just how interesting long distance driving could be. Nature really can be beautiful.

We left Baltimore around 10:00 a.m. and took 95 South toward Virginia. Although it was not my first time driving through Virginia, it was my first time heading South during the early summer. Colorful trees mixed with the bright rich sunlight illuminated nature’s beauty and made driving during that particular time of year utterly mesmerizing. There were miles of orange and green leaves paired with a clear bright-blue sky. That was when I realized the amount of space that Americans have in their land.

People are always complaining about space and jobs especially people from Central and South America. Like, have they traveled on the roads of multiple states? Have they seen all these spaces? The whole African continent could move here with all this open space.

As we got further toward the border of Virginia, I could feel the serenity of the earth aside from the noise of the small car’s engine and those of the big rigs. The further we went south, the more I noticed big trucks with a single driver.

For the first time, I learned about the weight station area and the escaped ramps. I could imagine the drivers thinking about different things while driving or talking on their phones—something I later learned in driving school known as solo driving.

The drivers just looked serene. It must be peaceful to work without supervisors telling employees what to do as though people are unable to think for themselves.

Chapter 2

The Insight

Reminiscing on these blissful experiences often makes me wish I could handle long drives. Back in 2000, when I was married to Jeremiah, we used to drive from Baltimore to New York just to shop for clothes and spend the day there. Also, we often drove to Washington DC several times with my cousins who were visiting from Senegal. Jeremiah could never drive more than an hour before saying things like, Coumba, take the wheel, I’m tired, I’m getting sleepy, or even My contact lenses are bothering me.

And whenever he said that, I would then take the wheel and drive us all the way home while he slept and snored beside me.

But one day, while listening to Jeremiah bragging about money and the places he had been, I came to realize that I could be doing the same thing—driving while getting paid. I said to myself, Here is a guy who can’t even drive to New York for three-and-a-half hours from Baltimore, yet he’s calling me from Indianapolis to tell me that he drove there all by himself? Hell no! As we say in Baltimore, Are you kidding me? If he could do it, so could I.

One day, during one of his bragging rants, I asked him, Jeremiah, are there any female drivers in your traveling crew? As I said before, I like money and seeing places, so long hours of driving wouldn’t bother me at all.

I think the question startled him because he kept silent for a minute before saying, Yes, Coumba. There are a few, but stay out of my field. Besides, what are you doing driving big trucks?

I fired right back. What is your problem? It’s not your company. You work for them—so can I.

On hearing my response, he hung up, and we never discussed the issue again. Too late, Jeremiah already put a bug in my ear, and I started seeing myself behind an eighteen-wheeler to make that dough.

I took my thoughts and new ideas on the Internet and filled out an online questionnaire with Lima Driving Schools. The very next day, I got a phone call from a student recruiter named Daouda. Daouda and I chatted over the phone and agreed to meet the same day at 1:30 p.m. for a first face-to-face interview.

Chapter 3

Worth the Try

The interview took place on April 9, 2012. It just so happened that my friend Wally, who lived in New York, came to visit me at the time. If I were an American woman, the visit from Wally would not have been an issue; but because I was not, there was a possibility of an all-out debate. Engaging in a lengthy discussion with Wally was the last thing I wanted to do, so I took him with me to the interview and asked him to give me an hour without giving him the details of my agenda. I just told him that I was there for a job interview that might last a while. I was hoping that Wally would get something to eat while waiting for me or collect phone numbers from young ladies—which was his trademark in New York City. I mean you can’t blame him with all of the abundances of the pretty American ladies.

Today’s society is a paradox, and many people nowadays still live on their own double standards. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. Entering into a man’s field was something I would need to handle with caution. I had to be tactful. While I was deciding to be a big-rig driver, the male figures in my life knew nothing about my new adventure. I just kept it to myself.

I have to admit that throughout my life, I made big decisions alone to avoid negative feedback. I am a risk-taker. Daddy used to say, Qui ne risque rien n’a rien—meaning No risk, no reward.

The interview with Daouda lasted almost an hour and a half. We talked about the reasons why I wanted to be a truck driver. Afterward, the recruiter proceeded to show me a video. I was a bit nervous. The trucking business is male-dominated, but Daouda reassured me that there were a few ladies who worked as professional drivers and after I got my commercial driver’s license (CDL) and some driving experience under my belt, I could move up to a managerial position in no time.

I took the reading test the same day, passed it, and paid a $25 registration fee. However, my financial aid for the training course was denied. The business person told me that I had to pay $4,976 out of pocket. I knew that I could make much more than that once I received my CDL, but at that point in my life, the fees were not something I could afford. So I decided to get a student loan.

Two days later, on the 11th of April precisely, I went to get my physical exam including a drug and alcohol test. I also received my Department of Transportation card (DOT), which is an essential document in the trucking industry. This new adventure was scary for me, but I was excited at the same time.

Moreover, my need for a stable income was greater than my fear. I believed I could find my place in this industry and find a stable niche to take care of myself and my children.

On July 26, 2012, I woke up at 7:00 a.m. to start CDL