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SLAVE
WAGES
Published July 29, 1996
Previous columns
by
Harry Goldstein
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The memory of my first minimum wage job is painfully fresh in my mind. As a busboy at an Italian restaurant, I earned $3.35 an hour. I was a junior in high school and didn't really expect much more for my labor. I was thankful to have an income at all, considering the fact that both of my parents were unemployed and there was no extra money around for clothes, movies, and whatever else high school boys blow their money on.
The summer of my senior year, I took a job as a secretary for a criminal lawyer. He demanded, in addition to washing his dishes, doing his laundry, and walking his dog, that I also maintain his wacky office file system, take dictation, handle depositions (further proof of his insanity -- I was only 18), and chauffeur clients around town. The most notorious of these clients was a drug dealer named Fuzzy who was perfectly content to sit in the back seat snorting coke off a mirror while I whisked him from his house to court to the lawyer's office and back. I was still making only $3.35 an hour, but I was working 40-60 hours a week and getting paid in cash that came out of crumpled paper bags clients brought to my boss to keep him on retainer. I was saving money for college, collecting some great stories, and was grateful for the opportunity to see how a law practice really worked before committing my life to service at the Bar.
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The proposed new minimum remains
well below the poverty line.
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After college, I enjoyed serving at another kind of bar, the kind where I got paid minimum wage to sling beer and burgers at the after-work crowd in downtown Minneapolis. By that time I was raking in the impressive sum of $4.25 an hour, plus tips. I was struggling to make ends meet, but I didn't have any responsibilities other than rent and bills: no family, no car and my student loan payments hadn't kicked in yet. Even so, I knew that I couldn't survive off minimum forever -- and my education ensured that I wouldn't have to.
Many do not have that advantage. What amazes me most about the recent debate over the minimum wage is that politicians actually battled tooth and nail over a 90 cent raise -- the first since 1989 -- for 10 to 12 million people, 40% of whom, according to Labor Secretary Reich, are the sole wage earners for their households. Figuring a 40-hour work week, that raise equals about $144 more a month -- before taxes. If you make the proposed new minimum of $5.15 an hour, you're still only making $10,300 (before taxes) a year -- well below the poverty line. So it's not surprising that the children of many minimum wage workers are confused when they see Mr. Neighborhood Drug Peddler driving around in an Isuzu Trooper with the booming stereo system. Crime pays a lot more than honest work. Hell, not working at all pays more. No wonder people would rather go on the dole than work for the minimum -- at least they're assured of health care, something a lot of minimum wage jobs don't provide.
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Both parties have sold out the bottom rung of workers.
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Economists on both sides of the debate rolled out the charts and graphs and talked numbers, which were translated by the politicians into partisan rhetoric. Frankly, I think it's all pretty simple: both parties have sold out the bottom rung of workers in this country for less than $11K per year. Whatever happened to the concept of a LIVING WAGE? What happened to the American myth -- the old Puritan work ethic -- that if you work hard, you'll be able to enjoy the fruits of your labors: a roof over your head, decent food, transportation to and from work, and a standard of living that allows people to raise their families. In an election year when candidates are going to spew on about family values and welfare reform, we should consider the concept of the social contract and hold the politicians who are shattering it accountable at the polls. In the end, it's a lot more reassuring to all workers to see people climbing the ladder than to look down and see people struggling mightily for that first rung, and then falling back into the pit of despair because the first rung isn't worth the effort.
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Whatever happened to the "peace dividend?"
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What if we made that first rung worth the effort, worth, say $7.00 an hour or $14K a year--still not much, but a far sight better than what we have now. And what if, during the first year on that rung, there were job-training programs to help people make it to the next level? Of course, the knocks against any kind of program like this would be, "who's going to pay for it" and "why should we bother." Ideally, American corporations, which have been raking in record profits over the last few years (American CEOs received an average 23% raise in 1995), could help foot the bill. But even the American taxpayer should be willing to shell out a few extra bucks for something like this. Or not even extra bucks -- just reallocate our tax dollars. Instead of building another billion dollar B-1 bomber, why don't we plow that billion dollars into a viable jobs program? Whatever happened to the "peace dividend?" Maybe we should ask the candidates when they're busy pumping our hands and asking for our support.
Harry Goldstein is a writer and editor living in Manhattan. His work has appeared in Utne Reader, American Book Review, Promethean, AltX, word.com, and other periodicals.
© 1996 Harry Goldstein, All Rights Reserved
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