Pay varies, but all work has value and dignity
The email was unexpected – an acquaintance from high school reconnecting more than a decade after graduation. We shared details about friends in common, husbands and kids who’d entered our lives in the interim, the careers we’d shaped. And it was at that point, she surprised me.
I don’t remember her exact works but I remember the sentiment clearly; she was surprised that I hadn’t become something “more” – like a doctor or a politician. A dozen years in journalism, time home with my sons, and a then still-new professional calling discovered in the nonprofit world apparently, in her eyes, were shortcomings.
It was a relatively brief exchange with someone I’ve not heard from since, but clearly the stinging remnants of the correspondence remain. I’ve been reminded recently of the implicit message --that we don’t value all work, or those who do it, equitably.
Reports of television performers shamed for working in a grocery store or driving for hire were disappointing but not totally unexpected. For a country that supposedly values hard work, we often reward lavish lifestyles and bad behavior with our attention and admiration, as if material acquisition and rudeness equate with effort. Being famous is not a job. But those in more humble roles are often ignored or disparaged.
After a photo of him working as a cashier emerged last fall, the actor Geoffrey Owens, was quoted in The Washington Post saying, “There is no job that is better than another job. It might pay better, it might have better benefits, it might look better on a résumé and on paper. But, actually, it’s not better. Every job is worthwhile and valuable.”
Right now, 800,000 employees of the federal government are not being paid. Ultimately, they reportedly will receive back salary, but I cannot imagine they feel very valued in the meantime, and it remains unclear whether furloughed contract employees will be paid. Meanwhile the folks who would be caring for those workers’ children, preparing and serving their restaurant lunches, and otherwise supporting them during the work week may never recoup the money that is lost.
I come from generations of women who cleaned the homes and hotel rooms of others, served in corporate cafeterias or as school janitors. I come from men who worked in motor pools or on assembly lines. All had certificates and plaques commending them for the quality, consistency, and dependability of their work. I am proud of every single one of them.
More recently, my mother retired after more than three decades working a desk job for the federal government, and my aunt taught high school math for just as long. Neither profession receives the respect it deserves. Both jobs served the betterment of others.
Some careers take more training and investment or carry with them significant stresses or risks, which understandably can impact compensation. But our assignment of value to labor is too often based in the salary and influence it commands. It might be why we step up and engage when someone whose title includes chief, executive, or president enters the room but barely make eye contact with the cashier at the gas station.
Is the thoroughness and accuracy of the person making sure your car doesn’t breakdown on 40 with your 16-year-old behind the wheel less important than the doctor conducting a well visit? The quality of their job performance has a direct impact on the well-being of those they serve, and there is dignity, honor, and a great deal of responsibility in both.
In the ongoing effort to value and respect one another, perhaps we can disconnect that from what each of us earns or the power society would assign us to recognize we all have worth.
This story was originally published January 14, 2019 at 5:18 PM.