Barbara's Guest Commentators

Hamstringing Sodexo: How Hiram College Changed More Than the Menu

by Robert Heltzel

This upcoming October 10th will mark the first anniversary of the day members of my Alma mater, Hiram College, stared down a bloated, corporate monster by the name of Sodexo and crassly quipped "Your fly is open. Get out." I write this article in remembrance of that fantastic, weird, and historic day.

For an entire year I had watched as the demeanor of my friends in the Hiram College cafeteria sank to abyssal lows under the boot of Sodexo Corporation, which had taken over our dining services in 2007. Pompous supervisors barked orders at cooks and dishwashers. People who had been managers from years long before Sodexo were shunted aside and told to take orders from suited snobs with titles like "District Manager." The cleaning crew was removed, forcing the same people preparing the food to also clean the facilities. Already low student employment dropped and enormous amounts of labor were foisted upon fewer employees. Nobody really knew what to do until some brave women decided that they wanted a change, and needed it fast.

On a Sunday afternoon two friends of mine, Wendy and Linda, women who had been employees in the dining hall for years, asked me to meet them in the afternoon.... in the back of the parking lot behind the kitchen. This was not an invitation to go raccoon-watching but rather a covert request from them (since disagreement with the Sodexo Empire is not tolerated) that I type and edit a letter they had written expressing their discontent with the workplace environment. But not only did this letter spell out what their problems were with the pricks in charge it also expressed that they were to walk out in a strike against the Sodexo management! They were fed up and ready to do something about it! I rushed the news to students that I knew would assist in their cause and hastily we created a plan of how to best call attention to the abuses happening at the hands of Sodexo. Shutting out the usual college distractions we came together to help people that needed our defense. And we damn well delivered.

Three days passed and at 11:00 am on an overcast Wednesday morning students stormed the cafeteria, joined the workers, and together confronted the abominable general manager, John Cahill, firmly declaring to him that we were through with the bullshit that had become knee-deep at the dining hall. Handing him our demands we then headed straight for college president Tom Chema’s office and upon finding him absent, parked ourselves in the plush lobby and awaited a response from the administration. Ultimately we were able to get the answers we wanted. Meetings were arranged, cheesy smiles flashed by college officials, and everyone dispersed. We had made our statement heard.

It wasn’t until November 5th that real results came when, as I was scanning the school’s internet forum I noticed a post from the school president plainly entitled "Sodexo Dining". I clicked and read with excitement as Tommy boy stated that "I have notified Sodexho Dining that Hiram College will exercise its option to separate from them in 60 days.” Sodexo was getting the ax! There were a few blemishes in the plan, however. Sodexo would, inexplicably, remain in the maintenance and cleaning services, despite the shoddy job they had done with managing the employees there. In addition to this the college decided to continue outsourcing our dining services, this time to AVI Foodsystems Incorporated, based out of Warren, OH. I was disconcerted that the college had not learned its lesson about outsourcing, but at least we would be working with a company only 45 minutes away. It was an okay start, and as I type this it is to my understanding that AVI has been treating my friends exponentially better than Sodexo ever did. Provided they keep to their word about being an ethically run business, they should experience a much smoother time at Hiram than the irresponsible losers before them.

In the end we students and workers were the victors. We kicked a corporate lunatic in the crotch and let them know that we took care of our own. Rejected and removed, Sodexo felt the full bite of a revolt. May it happen everywhere.

Greatest Nation in the World? How the U.S. Stacks Up for Those In Labor

By Ellen Bravo

Recently I gave a talk in Calgary, Canada for representatives of credit unions from around the world. The woman who introduced me, a director of marketing, was Canadian. “I just got back from maternity leave,” she told me, raving about her first child.

I know that Canadian law allows for nearly a year of leave at 55 percent pay. “How long did you take?” I asked.

“Oh, the whole year,” she replied. I mentioned that the Family and Medical Leave Act in the U.S. provides for considerably less time, 12 weeks, and that the time is unpaid. (I didn’t mention that it covers only half the workforce.) The vast majority of new mothers in the U.S. are back at work before 12 weeks. More than half of them get no pay at all.

Could she imagine having returned that soon, I asked. She worked her jaw for a few minutes without speaking. “I just couldn’t have done it,” she said finally. I felt as if I’d asked her to imagine feeding her child weeds.

Our interaction reminded me of that scene in Michael Moore’s film “Sicko” when he asks the Americans living in France how many sick days they received. “If you’re sick, you stay home,” one of them told him. “Yeah, but how many days do you get?” The answer: as long as you’re sick.

Hard to imagine for those living in the U.S., where no state or federal law requires any paid sick days at all – and where half the workforce has none. Seven out of ten workers in the U.S. have no paid sick time to care for a sick family member.

The next time you hear some lobbyist argue that our lack of standards is about economic competitiveness, remember this fact: Of the 20 most competitive nations in the world, the U.S. is the ONLY ONE which does not guarantee any paid sick days. Eighteen of those 20 countries guarantee at least 31 days of paid sick time.

Three decades years ago, when I was pregnant with my first child, a friend in France wrote me to say how sorry she felt that I had to have my baby in the United States. She went on to list the standards available to everyone in France – not just paid maternity leave, but high-quality child care available on a sliding scale basis for babies, and pre-school free to every child at age two and a half. Nearly all French parents sent their kids to those pre-schools, even in homes where a parent was available during the day, because the experience was so positive.

At the time I was taken aback by my friend’s letter, a little embarrassed and a little envious. Today, I’m just angry – and determined to see this change before my children have children.

For those who labor and go through labor, or simply need time to care for loved ones of any age, it’s about time we created some new rules in this country – like a minimum number of paid sick days, and insurance programs that provide at least partial wage replacement during family and medical leave. It’s about time we made sure that family values don’t end at the workplace door.

I’d sure like to say to friends in other countries that the U.S. no longer stands alone.

Ellen Bravo is former director of 9to5, National Association of Working Women and author of the recently released Taking on the Big Boys, or Why Feminism is Good for Families, Business and the Nation (Feminist Press at CUNY).

The Death of Democracy

by Pete Orthmann

Having had to scratch around for survival all my life, I confess total ignorance about living life as a mega-millionaire. From this distance, it all seems so….. phony, and actually down-right disgusting. Phony because, they apparently judge themselves and everyone else on the basis of stuff as opposed to personal qualities. Disgusting because most are so totally self absorbed they fail to even notice the people around them who are literally clinging to the very edge of life. Disgusting also, because they are oblivious to the devastation caused by their excesses. Sure, there are obvious exceptions like Bono, Oprah, Paul Newman and a handful of others. But for the most part, the super rich seem compelled to proudly demonstrate complete self-indulgence.

Until recently, these people and their obscene indulgences were kind of like bees, where if you don't disturb them they won't bother you. Sadly, that is no longer true. One of the latest, greatest, "gotta have" super expensive goody is a vacation home in the mountains of western North Carolina. These multi-million dollar get-a-ways are definitely out of the way, so part of the attractiveness is the runway being gouged out of a mountain. Then, our pristine mountains will become covered with sprawling private houses, golf courses and exclusive shopping areas.

Seldom, if ever, does anyone even pretend to consider the environment, for the wildlife, or for the existing human population. So while the surface is carved up like a turkey, underground is home to miles of pipes. To the super rich a septic system would not be acceptable for waste disposal. The answer was obvious and simple. Construct a sewage treatment plant capable of processing 300,000 gallons a day, and build it far from the mega-houses. In fact, construct and operate it where the current (not wealthy) residents live and then dump the discharge into a lovely little creek that meanders through people's yards. Quite literally, the super rich will be pooping on the poor.

Instantly, when these disasters pop up both logic and civil due process vanish. With a wink and a nod from all who should be protecting both the existing social and environmental welfare, developers devastate large tracks with the speed and thoroughness once reserved for bombs. The new "golden rule" becomes a law of the day. You know, 'He who has the gold shall make the rules.'

Abandoned by all government agencies at all levels, local citizens frequently band together in an effort to insure some degree of fair and reasonable limits are enforced. In western North Carolina a small group of intrepid spirits organized the Laurel Valley Watch. The first effort was to appeal to the county commissioners. By attending the meetings they learned that approximately half of the business of the county was conducted behind closed doors in secret executive sessions. The nature of these meetings, or the decisions made, were never made public. Recognizing the absence of help there, they moved to the only alternative available, the hiring of an environmental lawyer.

Probably like many before them, they pooled scant funds in an effort to protect their homes and "nature" by waging valid legal battles. The results have been totally disappointing. At one case, the judge nearly fell asleep (some say, he did) during the proceeding, he went to lunch with the defense attorney during the trial and tossed a jury's decision in the trash can. We PAID for our day in court, hired good and competent lawyers, spent two days presenting compelling evidence that the jury recognized as fact. We lost. The reality was that the decision was made before the first juror was chosen. They didn't so much as pretend to go through the motions of an honest proceeding.

At a Board of Appeals hearing the sewage plant was approved following this incredible statement from a board member: "Because the plant will be made by man, it will probably fail sooner or later. At that time they will have to clean up the mess. But that is no reason to not allow this to be built."

Sadly, Democracy does not exist where the mega rich want to play. And that is the worst and most deeply troubling reality from a long list of terrible realities. It is failing us exactly as it did those in Vail, Colorado, Jackson Hole, Wyoming and a long list of other, now private, beautiful locations. The scars on the top of our once beautiful mountain will be visible until the very end of time. The unnecessary displacement of natural habitat for animals and flora and fauna is tragic. The quasi forced removal of local residents, either through harassment or unbearable new taxes, is outrageous. But the loss of Democratic process should concern all Americans no-matter where they live or what their income.

Will Work for Change

There are very few books about community organizers, especially in their own voices. Joe Szakos, executive director of the Virginia Organizing Project, interviewed 81 community organizers from across the country and his wife and writer, Kristin Layng Szakos, put together a terrific book, We Make Change: Community Organizers Talk About What They Do – and Why, available from Vanderbilt University Press. You can contact him – and learn more about the book – at www.wemakechange.org

Will Work for Change

By Joe Szakos

I cheer every time that someone mentions that presidential hopefuls Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton had ties to community organizing. He actually worked as a community organizer in Chicago; she wrote her undergraduate thesis on the famous organizer Saul Alinsky. Maybe, just maybe, more people will become familiar with the work of community organizers!

I’ve been a community organizer for almost 30 years. Most of the time when I get the question, “What do you do?” and I respond, “I’m a community organizer,” I get the “deer in the highlights” look.

As Kristin Szakos (my wife), writes in her introduction to our recent book, “Community organizers are the people who work, often behind the scenes, to help people come together to effect meaningful change in their communities by building effective community organizations. They are there with the neighborhood group working to bring bank loans to low-income homeowners, they are there with immigrant women organizing to get medical insurance for their families, with small-town environmentalists keeping a toxic waste plant out of their community, with parents trying to get schools to respond to the needs of children with dyslexia, with gay and lesbian students striving to create a safe space in their schools, with groups working to reduce the ravages of racism in their towns and institutions.  Wherever there is a well-organized group agitating for progressive social change, chances are there is a community organizer nearby.”

Some community organizers work with congregations, some work with membership-based organizations, some work with coalitions, alliances or federations. Some organizers work with a single constituency, such as low-wage workers or public housing residents, some work with multiple constituencies. Some community organizers focus on a single issue while others tackle many issues at once; some work at a neighborhood lever, others work in multiple counties, statewide or regionally.

Three years ago, I interviewed 81 organizers from around the country. One of the things I asked them was how they define what they do. I think their answers are instructive.

“An organizer brings people together to sort out specific changes they want to see in the life of the community, develop strategies to get there, and then move into action to make the changes happen,” long-time organizer Ellen Ryan said.

“In many ways, I’m a teacher, not in a traditional classroom but in congregations and schools and neighborhood centers and union halls,” said Perry Perkins. “We teach people about public life and how to claim an active citizenship, living out the democratic notions of civic participation and the republican notion that there are civic virtues that have to be taught.”

Guillermo Quinteros puts it this way: “I’m changing the world. I’m making the world a just place. That’s what organizing is about. There are many ways of doing it, but in the end that’s what it’s about. We’re helping people change their reality. We’re facilitating so that people can create a better world.”

Being a community organizer allows me to work with groups of people to make specific, tangible changes in a community while helping individuals learn important leadership skills. I love having the opportunity—every day— to help people raise their voices about the concerns they have in their communities, especially when it leads to major systemic changes.

I hope that reporters keep asking the presidential hopefuls about their experiences with community organizing, and I hope that the American people will continue to learn about what community organizing is.

Listen to the Children

By Ellen Bravo
www.ellenbravo.com
bravo@uwm.edu

Ellen Bravo is former director of 9to5, National Association of Working Women and author of the recently released Taking on the Big Boys, or Why Feminism is Good for Families, Business and the Nation (Feminist Press at CUNY).

Teachers tell researchers they’ve never seen so many children coming to school sick. Guilt-ridden mothers share stories of sending ailing kids to day care or school out of fear that staying home with them would result in discipline on the job.

These stories don’t surprise me. But what was startling was hearing how many kids drag themselves to school sick to keep a parent from losing pay or getting fired.

I first became aware of this three years ago at a 9to5 leadership conference in Washington, D.C. Members were getting ready to tell their elected officials why they need paid sick days – something half the workforce, and three-quarters of low-wage women, do not have. For these workers, staying home to care for one’s own illness or a sick family member could mean not only loss of pay, but loss of a job.

First I stopped by the group from Wisconsin and heard Robbie Bickerstaff describe how her son Eric, then age 7, got hit by a car on the way home from school but chose not to tell her for fear she’d lose her second shift job if she didn’t go in to work. Later an older sibling called her to say that Eric was crying because his arm hurt from being hit by the car and she had to take him to the hospital. When Robbie informed her boss, he was adamant: “Leave and you’re fired.” Her pleas didn’t move him. She did leave; she was fired. Eric turned out to have a broken arm.

I moved on to the 9to5 members from Pennsylvania and shared Robbie’s story. Carissa Peppard, the 21-year-old daughter of activist Kiki Peppard, was sitting next to her mom. “I’ve never told my mother this before,” she said, “but when you’re a kid, you know everything. Whenever I was sick, I’d ask myself, ‘Should I tell Mom? Will we have groceries this week if she stays home with me?’ If I could, I just dragged myself to school.”

I related these stories recently at a briefing for Congressional staff organized by 9to5. On the panel with me was Jeannetta Allen, an energetic 18-year-old with a disability that affects her balance and her speech. She’d just testified how lack of paid sick days had cost her mother a job.

“I’m that kid,” Jeannetta said when I’d finished. “After my mother was fired, I always tried to go to school no matter how I felt. I didn’t want her to be fired again.”

A chain reaction started among 9to5 members in the audience. One after another, they told stories of discovering a child was walking around with bruised ribs or the flu or strep throat because staying home meant Mom could lose her job.

“My son had stopped eating,” Christina said. “He thought it would save on groceries.”

Nearly 20 years ago, a Wisconsin coalition brought a group of children to Madison, Wisconsin, to fight for a state family and medical leave bill. They represented the range of reasons children might need a loved one by their side – childhood cancer, being adopted, death of a grandparent, having a sibling with a developmental disability or asthma, being hit by a car. After listening to the kids’ stories, the Secretary of Employment Relations was visibly moved. “You know,” he told them, “we’re so used to dealing with lobbyists, we forget about those who are affected by our legislation.”

Too many elected officials are preaching family values but listening to lobbyists who want those values to end at the workplace door.

It’s time we listened to the children instead.

No Second Chance

Name Withheld by Request

After a 28-year professional and rewarding career in the title insurance industry in San Francisco, I headed to the east coast to tend to elderly parents. Not having sought employment in many years (I was the one who was always approached by employers) I have been flabbergasted by many aspects of the job seeking and application process of today.

First of all, the amount of information required up front is outrageous. I have had to supply social security number, passport, driver’s license number, references, urine specimen, authorize credit check and background check, etc. etc., just to fill out an application, including for 6 and 7 dollar an hour jobs at grocery stores and nursing homes.

Not to mention all of the online submissions of my resume. All of this info provided not even an interview! If my identity is not stolen it will be a miracle. A staffing agency sent me to three interviews, one at a credit union and two at real estate information services firms. Thinking these would be right up my alley, I was shocked to be told I was “overqualified.”

I find myself in a down market in an economically depressed area (Pittsburgh) where there are very few middle management office jobs. I have discovered I am a dinosaur, and not sure what, exactly, to explore as a new career.

In the meantime, I cannot land entry level low paying jobs (I made more money babysitting in high school) because I am overqualified. I have to get my thinking cap in high gear and come up with a new profession pretty quick, just when I should be planning my retirement. News flash to job seekers: don’t move to Pittsburgh, Pa.

Wage to Live

by Nikki Zeichner

New York City is a meeting place of extremes. It’s a place where people that appear to have nothing in common rub elbows in unexpected ways, and find that their lives share many identical experiences and sentiments. Despite an often apparent feeling of anonymity, there is always an underlying connection that we, as city inhabitants, have to each other. Albeit large, we all know that New York City is a community.

And yet, despite the interconnectedness of the millions living here, we generally don’t talk about the way that some people in the City earn unreal amounts of money and others work full time for unlivable wages. Perhaps not having to talk about wage disparity is one of the freedoms of living in the city. However, it’s also a tremendous problem.

In New York City, because the cost of living is high, a living wage for a single person is a little over $18 per hour (based on a formula by Universal Living Wage, which allows rent to only count for 30% of one’s earnings, and based on the Department of Housing and Urban Development’s account of the rental rate of a studio in NYC as $926). Needless to say, many people in the City are earning less than this amount – and a disproportionate percentage of those earning less than a living wage work in the service industry. Many believe that low wages in the service industry are inevitable and that businesses cannot afford to pay higher wages. But profits are growing where wages have not kept pace. The restaurant industry, for example, experienced 5.6% growth in 2006 and is expected to grow by 7.2% by 2017. Such growth indicates that that higher wages are feasible.

Those of us who have worked in the service industry, those of us who work full time and still struggle to make ends meet – and even those who earn decent wages but are aware of the struggle that so many people experience – personally understand the need for wages to become more livable. But how can we, as a community, prove that higher wages will not only benefit workers, and the community, but could be beneficial for the industry?

A 2005 study performed by Cone, a Boston-based strategic marketing firm, found that 86% of consumers are willing to alter their consumption in order to support businesses that further a social cause. The success of recent conscientious consumption campaigns, such as Fair Trade, also show that people want to support responsible businesses and that consumers can have a tremendous impact on wages by choosing with whom to conduct business. Since New York is a place full of both underpaid workers and conscientious buyers, it’s the perfect place to start.

For this reason, a few young, creative lawyers are teaming up with grassroots advocates, religious leaders, social entrepreneurs, and restaurateurs to launch a project called Wage to Live – a conscientious consumption campaign designed to raise the wages of workers within the service industry beginning with restaurants in NYC. Wage to Live will promote responsible business owners who strive to pay their workers living wages and will prove that living wages are a component of smart and successful business. Because restaurants are selected on a whim, and staffed by some of the lowest paid workers in NYC, we expect this consumption campaign to bring about much needed change in the industry and the entire New York City community.

Check out Wage to Live online and become part of our community by joining our mailing list.

The Downward Spiral

by Eric Campbell

I read Bait & Switch when it was first published. I am an IT professional (or at least I used to be), and many of Barbara's experiences in Bait & Switch sounded familiar. I've been there.

The job fairs, where smiling college interns collected my resume while being unable to answer the simplest of questions about the company or the jobs they allegedly needed to fill.

The so-called "recruiters" and "headhunters" who have no real placement or HR experience. They seem delighted just to meet with me, to put me into the all-important DATABASE.

The networking groups, which remind me of the I Love Lucy episode featuring the Friends of the Friendless. People bring cookies and other sweets, perhaps to mitigate the overall bitterness they feel.

I have been told to find spiritual guidance, because HE will help me make my car payments, if I accept HIM into my heart. OK, I exaggerate a little here.

Endless hours spent trolling the online job boards. Monster has 2,347,891 jobs today!

Thousands (yes, thousands!) of resumes and cover letters. I've licked enough stamps to cover the Eiffel Tower. I've created enough digital refuse to fill Madison Square Garden. Still no job.

In the past 5 1/2 years, I have been stuck in a downward spiral. I quit looking exclusively for a computer job long ago. I have applied for jobs that pay less than a livable wage, only to be turned away as "over-qualified".

I have had potential employers not hire me because they were worried about the number of jobs I have had over the past few years. The fact that I have been repeatedly laid-off, my jobs out-sourced, matters little to them. They sympathize, but I still appear to be damaged goods to them.

I have failed to get interviews for jobs that I am qualified to perform. The reasons for this are many: been out of IT for too long; too many employers in too short a period of time; and the very vague yet commonly used explanation of how I am "just not the perfect fit".

I have worked off the books as a painter and landscaper. I have gone broke twice, and I'm on my way there for a third time. I have lost my apartment, been  forced to move in with my elderly parents. I'm 39; they're in their 60's. They (and I) live in a retirement community. Oh, joy!

I have worked for temp-agencies and I took a so-called "survival job", which featured a profane, 73-year-old boss, and a vastly misrepresented job. I lasted a whole year there.

Health insurance is a distant memory. So are most of the dreams I had for myself. Some of my best years have been wasted. I'll never get them back.

I have fundamentally changed as a person. I no longer laugh or make jokes as much. When I do joke around, I notice my humor is tinged with bitterness. I miss the person I used to be.

My personal life is of course intertwined with the professional side. How can I initiate and nurture a relationship when I can't even support myself? At a time when my contemporaries are married, having kids, and moving up in their careers, I just sit on the sidelines and watch. Forever the fan, I long to be on the field.

The goal-oriented man I used to be has been replaced by a depressed soul whose greatest accomplishment today may be fighting off the urge to take a midday nap.

I have learned some things about myself that I can use as positives. I realize I'm a bit stronger than I gave myself credit for, more resilient.

I seemed to have recaptured a compassionate streak I had in my youth. By that, I mean that I have empathy for people who are suffering. Do I volunteer? No, but neither do I simply dismiss the downtrodden as those who simply "don't try hard enough".

I've searched for enjoyment not through the accumulation of "stuff" but through the accumulation of experience. To that end, I have taken up hiking, and I reconnected with my passion for reading.

I have also written several short stories, and I am working on my third novel. All of my work remains unpublished at this time, but I don't sweat it. I have bigger problems. Job-hunting in this day and age requires a thick skin, so when my queries to literary agents and various publications are returned with a "no thanks", I don't let it get to me. I write for myself.

From College to the Library

by Tom Faulkner

I recently went through two months of involuntary unemployment. I was fresh out of college and naïvely thought that I would find a good job relatively quickly. I had all the things an employer should want. I was eager to work, had graduated with honors, and had a prestigious internship on my resume.

I had my first interview right after graduation. My girlfriend’s roommate referred me to the company where she worked. I thought the interview was a slam-dunk. Ultimately, though, they went with someone who was a “smooth talker.”

That was the first and last job lead referred to me personally. Two months later I was still unemployed. I emailed and snail-mailed so many cover letters and resumes that I lost track of how many I’d sent out. I made follow up calls when I could. Usually though, there was no name or number given to follow up with. Occasionally I would receive a postcard acknowledging the receipt of my application. The summary of the postcards was, “Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

I realize that I am fortunate. Unlike many others, I had the financial safety net of my family. They were happy to have me home and pay my few bills as long as I was seriously job hunting. My girlfriend was also very supportive.

Despite the financial and emotional support, my situation was difficult. I had feelings of uselessness and worthlessness. I am an independent person; so it was difficult for me to concede that I needed help. Boredom was also a problem. After I had exhausted the new job postings, I did not have much to do while family and friends were at work. I could not afford to go anywhere to spend time (or money!). That left me waiting by the phone. I eventually became a fixture at the local branch of the public library -- thankfully borrowing books is free.

My stroke of luck came to me while at my girlfriend’s place. The smooth talker who was hired in lieu of me apparently did not fit well with the company. The company was now looking for his replacement. I told my girlfriend’s roommate that I was still interested in the job.

The next day I received a call from the company. “Would I be interested in coming in for a ‘second interview’?” I went in and they hired me on the spot. My suspicion that they hired me in desperation is a little humbling, but by that point I could not have cared less.

I am very grateful that I have managed to get a good job. I know that there are others out there who are talented, smart, and well-qualified but just can’t seem to find work. My heart goes out to them. If you are one of those people, you should know one thing. It may feel like you are alone, but you are not. Don’t give up hope.

How I Learned about the Minimum Wage

By Ashley Herzog

I was seventeen years old when I wrote a school essay entitled “The correct minimum wage: $0.00.” Back then, I was a budding libertarian, and I was proud of that assignment. I explained my opposition to a government-mandated minimum wage with arguments that many economic conservatives consider hard fact: Minimum wage increases lead to unemployment. They force business owners to pay unskilled laborers more than they’re worth. And besides teens and secondary-wage earners, who really works for the bare minimum, anyway?

The partisan battle over minimum-wage laws was the last thing on my mind when I took a job in a chain restaurant last June. I’d held a few after-school jobs as a teen, but the restaurant job was meant to be my first serious foray into the working world.

I liked my job immediately, especially my co-workers: some were single moms, some were students, and others were second-wage earners, supplementing a spouse’s meager income.

At first, our conversations were limited to the usual small talk about movies, celebrities, and workplace gossip. But as the weeks wore on, I was able to piece together the stories of my new friends’ lives. Although each one was unique, they had a common theme: money was a problem.

They used code words to describe money troubles and the public assistance they needed to circumvent them. When I overheard one waitress talking about her “financial aid,” I asked where she went to college. She reluctantly admitted that “financial aid” was a euphemism for food stamps -- and she’d needed them ever since her husband lost his job.

Relying on food stamps isn’t a worst-case scenario in the world of low-wage work. Another young waitress confessed that she was living in a motel because she couldn’t make the last month’s rent. After swearing me to secrecy, she resolved to find a new apartment within a week -- as long as she could afford the security deposit.

Needless to say, my view of laissez-faire capitalism was shaken. Libertarian philosophy promised that an unbridled free market would provide everything people needed, as long as they worked hard enough. So how could it be that people working two or three jobs, averaging seven to eight dollars an hour, could barely afford necessities like food and housing?

When I asked a co-worker if she had health insurance, she looked at me as if I were crazy. It was then that I uttered the words I never thought I’d say: “Well, maybe they should raise the minimum wage.”

But like many others, she doubted that “they” were really concerned about her. She told me she refused to vote for Democrats or Republicans, “Because what do those assholes know about being poor?”

A few weeks later, I quit that job and returned to college, where I’m again shielded from the realities of low-wage life. I sit in classes where middle-class students and tenured professors debate the minimum wage in theoretical terms. Sometimes I think back to the question my co-worker posed: “What do they know about being poor?”

The answer, for many of us, is not much. The working poor are relatively easy to ignore. They aren’t interviewed on nightly newscasts. They don’t write op-eds for The New York Times. In many cases, they don’t even vote. People who work for wages just above the minimum typically fly under society’s radar -- until financial disaster strikes and they turn to government programs for help. It is then that they are chastised for their lack of self-reliance and initiative.

Maybe in some cases a low-wage job is the first step out of poverty. Of course, most people who have time to philosophize about the minimum wage will never find out for themselves.