Eating as I Go: Scenes from America and Abroad

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200 February฀2004 Chef Jimmy bangs his fist on Chef Robert’s metal toolbox. “It’s Clint!” he roars. “I can’t believe what that guy has done! Less than two months on the job and he stopped showing up. Just walked away. I used my contacts to get him the job, and now he’s burned me. He’s burned the program.” I remember Clint, a stocky man in his forties with a history of drug abuse and some time in prison. I happened to be in Chef Robert’s office the day Clint heard about the job offer. Robert and I were talking about race, poverty, and unequal opportunity in America when Clint appeared. “I got my offer,” he announced . “It’s in utility, doing pots and pans, but that’s okay. I’ll move up.” I remember Robert’s response: “Great, man! I know you will.” But now Clint has just been on the phone, asking Jimmy to find him another position. “The guy’s a fool,” Jimmy sputters. “He blames everybody but himself.” It seems Clint had complained about the money. After taxes, health benefits, union dues, and child support were deducted from his check, only $50 a week remained—not enough to make working worthwhile. That level of income leads directly to the local soup kitchen; it leads to dependence on the agencies that distribute dried pasta and canned tomato sauce from the FoodBank. But what choices does Clint have? The only “legit” road ahead is another low-paying food service job and the discipline of hard work and hope. When Clint failed a second drug test, he pleaded for one last chance, and Jimmy yielded to his pleas. Jimmy yielded to his own wish to go more than 100 percent for a student who he thought just might make it as a food service professional . Clint graduated, but he failed the industry’s ServSafe exam, a credential that is not necessary for employment but makes a difference in opportunities and earnings. “He’s burned me,” Jimmy reiterates, looking straight at Robert, seeking support . “I want the program to sever relations with Clint. He said he’d come by next week, but I don’t want to see his face around here again.” Robert stays cool. “Did I know that Clint flunked a second drug test?” he asks Jimmy. “Somehow I don’t remember that.” Robert and Jimmy balance each other well. Jimmy uses his large BURNED฀ BURNED 201 physical presence to maintain authority with the students. But he is a passionate man, not afraid of closeness. Students feel the warmth that’s inseparable from his vitality. Robert, short and rotund, is the analyst, the visionary on the team. A reader, a musician, and a natural innovator, Robert is eager to be challenged. He cultivates openness, even with an unknown food writer who dropped in one day and announced her interest in his school. “Okay,” he tells Jimmy, “if that’s the way you feel. Still, I’m not sure that the program should slam the door shut on a guy in trouble. Giving people chances is what we’re about,” Robert says. Jimmy seems almost calm as he returns to the kitchen. When the two chefs are in synch, both feel more confident. Clint, as it turns out, resolved their differences. He never called Jimmy back, and he never visited as promised. Teaching engages the emotions. “If we invest in students,” I tell Jimmy the next day, “then their success is our success. But there’s only so much that’s in our control.” Jimmy went all the way for Clint; and, as the head instructor, he had more on the line than Robert. Surely his anger with Clint was also anger at himself —for not reading Clint right; for hoping for too much. Had Clint called on a day other than this one, I wonder whether his confession of failure and sad call for help would have evoked the same fury from Jimmy. Barely two hours before Clint called, Jimmy had kicked four students out of the program for poor attendance and attitude. Among the failures was Paulo, another recipient of Jimmy’s generosity, who had enrolled in the academy for the second time. I was in Jimmy’s office when the repentant twenty-year-old had appeared , seeking readmission. “Man, I’m glad to see you back,” Jimmy greeted him. “From my heart I...