WHILE agreeing with the soundness of Clinic technique, there are those who have said resignedly, "This doesn't apply to me. "For my skin is black." "I'm over forty." "I'm physically handicapped."

Or you may be an ex-con, an ex-alcoholic, foreign born, or some other species of "outcast." No one can conjure away your problem with a wave of the hand. We hope some day all men will be judged on their merits. Meanwhile, bias exists and must be reckoned with.

This is not the place for extended treatment of the subject. There's just one thing we want to say here. Intensive application of Clinic Man Marketing principles will help you turn your liabilities into assets. And help you land the job you want.

Even when enmeshed in their prejudices, most employers respond to a pocketbook appeal. And Clinic sales technique is geared to just such an appeal.

Let us cite a case in point. Back in 1937 two ladies who admitted to being well over forty set out to prove that anyone could get a job with the right approach. They toured the country and were offered literally hundreds of jobs. <pg. 278>

Clara Belle Thompson and Margaret Lukes Wise didn't take any of the jobs they found. They merely wanted to prove that jobs were there for the asking -- even in hard times. And times were very bad indeed in 1937.

The two women published their findings in a book.* In the Saturday Evening Post of May, 1938, they told how Margaret was offered a sales clerk job by answering an ad as follows: [Footnote: *We Are Forty And We Did Get Jobs, Philadelphia; J. B. Lippincott Co.]

Before I answered your advertisement, I wondered how many persons might be interested if I were selling for you. I have just made out a list of sixty-three to whom I should like to send post cards just telling them about my connection -- that is if I make one . . . I like everything about dresses -- looking at them, touching them, selling them, advising people as to which would be most becoming.

Granted, this example is somewhat obvious. For the appeal is a direct offer of a following. Nonetheless, the point is valid. They found job after job by playing directly on their prospects' desires for more customers, more profits.

With that approach, no one asked about age.

Often, your biggest hurdle when bias-burdened is your own mental attitude. With the very real shadow of prejudice clouding your job campaign, you may tend to ask for "any kind of job." Doing so, you add to your troubles.

Consider this letter from a Clinic member who found his job.

My experience was elastic enough to enable me to apply for almost any kind of white collar job, which I proceeded to do -- with the net result that I discovered I was not quite tall enough for this particular position; or that I was too old, too young, too light, too dark, over-educated, or inexperienced. . . . When I learned to strike straight for one job, to make all my experience lead up inevitably to that one job, and not clutter up my story with a lot of details which my prospect had no use for; when I learned to tell him just how he could use my experience to advantage -- I found I was just the right size, age, coloring, and that my education and experience <pg. 279> just answered his unuttered prayer. Then, instead of being fortunate to get a job, I was able to select one from five opportunities. . . . .

Especially when faced with bias you must get down to the first principles of selling. Be specific about what you want -- and what you have.

If you are in a prejudice-handicapped group, your chances are thereby narrowed. That means you've got to build as big a list for your shotgun letters as you possibly can.

At the same time give the rifle treatment to a select list of your best prospects. Research each name on it very, very carefully. Squeeze out every fact you can find on the firm and its products. The more you know, the more surely you can appeal to your prospect's self-interest.

Brown-skinned Albert Johnson lives in Harlem. A dedicated sort of person, he determined to break into one of our biggest national corporations, a firm that had never before hired Negro employees. He knew he'd never make it unless he could turn his color into a profit-making factor.

After studying the firm's distribution outlets, Albert mapped out an approach aimed at their business machine division. He found that barely 1 per cent of Harlem's business firms used those machines.

Inquiry disclosed two reasons for this. Firstly, few salesmen ever came their way. And secondly, Negro businessmen resented the corporation's color bar.

Following up on this information, Albert conducted an informal survey of Harlem business opinion. "Do you need modern business machines?" he asked each of a varied group. A large percentage answered "Yes."

"Would you buy more often if you were visited regularly by a salesman who understood your problems?" was his second question. Again the "ayes" had it. <pg. 280>

Now Albert made his move. He sent his carefully written report to the vice-president in charge of sales. He concluded his report in this fashion: "You have a vast, untapped market in the Negro business world. As a Negro myself, I can more readily tell the story of your machines in terms of the colored businessman's own problems." (Italics ours.)

Albert broke the barrier.

With equal thought and study, almost anyone can turn a liability into an asset. Just avoid a defeatist attitude. Let your liability work for you. Show that it spells profit for your prospective employer. That's how you override prejudice.

The want ad read: "National Sales Manager for Continental Silverware. Must be under forty."

Fifty-two-year-old Harold Lesser answered. He had been selling various household lines from the time he was twenty-five years of age. And he had served as regional sales manager for two medium-sized firms. The ad intrigued him, and he resolved to land that job come what may.

He left his age out of his letter and an interview was quickly arranged. Of course he knew the age problem would explode at the interview. So he searched for a way to dispose of it himself.

As he told the Clinic, "I'm a salesman. Objections have never stopped me before. There's no reason why I can't come up with an answer to this one."

Checking on Continental's retail outlets -- he was familiar with them from his own experience -- Harold found his angle. On the appointed day Harold presented himself to Gerald Corning, Continental's Chairman of the Board.

At sight of Harold's iron-gray hair, Mr. Corning's eyes widened. But he made no immediate comment. Instead, he asked Harold to outline his experience.

Harold launched an impressive story of sales results, with each achievement supported by dramatic proof. Without a break in the telling, he hooked the end of his story onto a question.

"Mr. Corning, I would like to ask you one question. Do you know how silverware should be displayed to sell at a faster clip?" <pg. 281>

"We've developed no special display technique for retailers," answered Mr. Corning.

"It came to me that a housewife would like to see it laid out on an actual table setting -- just as she would use it at home. I mentioned this to some friends of mine in the trade. They tell me that wherever it has been tried sales have picked up."

"That does sound interesting, Mr. Lesser. We could help our dealers make up such a display. It may be a profitable idea."

This was just the opening Harold wanted. "Such ideas spring from twenty-seven years on the firing line, Mr. Corning. As you know, a salesman never stops learning. Each year brings something new. And Continental can reap the benefit of twenty-seven such experience-packed years."

Neatly does it. With thought and study and advance preparation Harold transformed a bad liability into a shining asset. Two weeks later the Board of Directors offered Harold the coveted position. The "you" attitude, the offer of a service, closed the sale.

Regardless of type of liability, the approach is the same. Turn it into an asset by applying basic selling principles.

World War II provided a huge testing ground for this theory. Handicapped people were found to excel in some phase of almost every field of work -- precisely because of their handicap.

The blind, for example, did a better job of sorting and counting various sized nails and screws than the sighted. Those who could see found the job boring. For the blind it offered an exciting challenge to their sense of touch.

Similarly, deafened workers can operate at higher efficiency than the normal hearing person amid the nerve-wracking noise of modern industrial plants. Such liabilities become assets in the professional and commercial world as well.

An accident cost Mary Parker her hearing when she was fifteen year old. Despite this she made a brilliant record at college, where she majored in English. Favored with a fiery spirit, Mary sought a position in keeping <pg. 282> with her intelligence and ability. She wanted most to get into the publishing world. And quickly she found how to turn her handicap into an excellent selling point.

She aimed her shots at the editorial departments of the large book publishing firms. As a reader she would have to pass on the merits of submitted manuscripts. Mary used her college career as proof of ability. Then she drove home the point of her deafness.

"It will allow me to concentrate on my reading as no one else possibly could," Mary wrote. This argument won her a splendid position.

Ellen Stanley's story is one of the most inspiring we've known. A spastic from birth, she graduated from Lowell University with highest honors in social work and vocational guidance.

Choosing vocational guidance as her career, Ellen went on for her Master's degree. But now she met opposition. The school authorities felt her convulsive facial and bodily contortions would disturb those who sought her help.

"You're an extremely intelligent person," they told her. "You know you have a physical handicap. No public or private organization will hire you for such work. Why tilt at windmills? You can go in for something where your handicap won't matter."

Ellen held fast to her goal. "I've got the ability and the desire," she insisted. "I know I can be useful in vocational guidance."

But the going was rough. She got her Master's degree -- but no job. Methodically she canvassed every possibility. Her chance came suddenly.

The city decided to open a vocational guidance bureau for the physically handicapped. With but two counselor positions available, a flood of applications poured in.

Ellen waded grimly through three interviews. Finally, she came up with one of the appointments. Here is how she did it.

First she proved her ability by means of her brilliant school record. Then she topped it off with this observation:

"Physically handicapped clients will be inspired when they see a person like me in such a position. They in turn will inspire me <pg. 283> to greater effort. The bureau will gain from this psychological interchange."

Ellen has long since proven this theory in practice.

We could go on like this endlessly. Suffice it so say that most liabilities will succumb to this treatment. If you suffer from prejudice you must faithfully adhere to tested selling techniques.

Learn all you can about the firms you intend to approach.

Be specific about the job you want and the assets you have.

Offer your prospect a service.