Essential Worker Does Not Equal Valued Worker

It took the pandemic for many of us to broaden our definition of essential worker and to see that those we tout as “essential” to the functioning backbone of our country are not financially valued. We compensate many essential workers poorly. They are paid minimum wage, not a livable wage. Today an employee working 40 hours a week making the federal minimum wage of $7.25/hour earns $15,080 in a year. Last year the National Low Income Housing Coalition reported that minimum wage workers couldn’t rent a two-bedroom apartment, at market rate, in any state in the United States. That’s a harsh reality and it’s daily life for many Americans. According to the Economic Policy Institute, perhaps not surprisingly, workers of color are more likely than white workers to earn what they label poverty wages.

The fact that things change but stay the same was driven home to me last month when I took a tour in Colonial Williamsburg.

Like many historical spots in our country, Colonial Williamsburg is trying to better incorporate the lived experience of enslaved people into their representations. So, I was looking forward to a tour titled ‘Freedom’s Paradox’ focused on the institution of slavery in a fledgling nation fighting for freedom. I moved along with the group from one site to another, listening intently to the guides. My ears perked up when the guide portraying one of the landed gentry discussed the provision of food. “Enslaved people in Williamsburg were given two pounds of cornmeal and ½ lb. of meat a week even though they burned about 5000 calories a day working,” he told us. I had to do a quick Google search to learn this amount of food equaled about 4500 calories a week for people burning about 30,000 in a typical six-day workweek. A guide portraying an enslaved person continued: “Slaves caught stealing food for themselves or their children were punished severely. Sometimes by a public beating or even by death dependent on how egregious the theft was deemed.” That part of the tour concluded by noting that the House of Burgesses, the governing body of the Colony of Virginia, had set the standard of what amount of food should be provided… at a minimum.

Minimum wages.

That’s when it struck me: essential workers in the colonial era and those today, were and still are paid, in terms of what’s needed to exist, to barely survive, certainly not to thrive.  Those setting the standards, those governing, then and now, seem to have only nominal regard for people essential to their economic survival. And just as those enslaved in colonial times suffered from malnutrition, poverty wages continue to have long-term impact. Food deprivation and the reliance on cheap unhealthy foods have consequences even today, generations later, on the health status of African Americans. Similarly, the inability of many, then and now, to earn a livable wage — in money or in food — leads to a wage theft system with deleterious effects.

While we pay many who provide essential services minimum wage, most of those who shape the country’s laws and policies are entirely out of touch with that reality.  This was made crystal clear in 1992 when then-President George H. W. Bush, on national television, failed to know the cost of milk during a presidential debate with Bill Clinton and Ross Perot. That incident spotlighted a disconnect, one that still exists between those living ordinary lives and many governing our country. Thirty years later, the nation debates the pros and cons of raising the federal minimum wage to $15/hour, as many local and state jurisdictions have done, while failing to recognize or acknowledge the impact of poverty wages on our society… on our country.

I wonder what ‘essential’ means to many of our leaders. Not just in government, in commerce too. When I hear the leaders of Fortune 500 companies proclaim ‘Black Lives Matter,’ I look to see if they have supported greater benefits for their workers, many of whom are African American, or a $15/hour minimum wage. Rarely do I find that level of commitment. Their bottom line—their profits—not racial equity, is their motivation. Many are “talking the talk,” but not “walking the walk.” So, while nominally celebrated in media posts, too many essential workers of today are viewed as having minimal value by today’s leaders just as the enslaved people were in the 1700s in Colonial America. Check it out when the next elected official or business leader announces support for racial equity.  Minimum wage, minimum value.  Let’s all support a livable wage, a wage for “essential workers” and all workers to thrive, not just survive.

 

The Nourishment of Our Souls

Once again, restaurateur and chef Jose Andres has shown leadership in the face of calamity. Just last week, he was the cover story on Time Magazine. You may recall he set up kitchens in Puerto Rico following Hurricane Maria, in the Bahamas following Hurricane Dorian, and in North and South Carolina following Hurricane Florence. This time his response is to the coronavirus. Closing his multiple restaurants in DC and elsewhere, he will continue to pay his workers at least for the next few weeks and has set up community kitchens to provide take out options. And I hear many other restaurant owners are coming up with creative ways to support their workers and to meet community needs.

Food is one of our first thoughts in a disaster.

Like many of you, when the dimensions of this emergency became apparent, I went to the grocery store. I stocked up on everything I needed should I be unable to get to a store for some time. My initial thought was pure survival.

grocery stockerIt wasn’t hard to get the food I needed. I live less than a half-mile from two chain grocery stores and a farmers’ market and within a mile of three additional major grocery stores. Plus, there is a slew of corner stores sprinkled throughout my neighborhood. Food availability is not an issue. Quite a different reality from my neighbors who live in the poorer sections of town, the parts of town with more black and brown people. Getting to the food they need may not have been as easy. For the poorest sections of my city, there are only three major grocers for the approximately 140,000 people who live there.

Food desert has become the term typically used to describe those parts of the city with a dearth of everyday resources, including quality grocery stores. Well, that term fits. A desert is a “barren area where little precipitation occurs, and consequently, living conditions are hostile for plant and animal life.” Plant and animal life… hmmm. Sadly, poorer communities are often devoid of the lush greenery of parks seen in more affluent parts of the city. And, if we connect the “lack of precipitation” reference in the definition to the colloquialism, “make it rain,” few financial resources come into these communities.

Food desert is an apt term, but I have been urged to use the term food apartheid. Yes, that works too, “a policy or system of segregation or discrimination on the grounds of race.” The communities I noted above, with only three grocery stores, are 95% African American. These communities, lacking quality, convenient grocery stores, didn’t just happen naturally like a desert. They were created. Those in power—who own the stores—decided where their stores would… and would not… be placed.

Consider what happened to my neighborhood 15 years ago. I, along with quite a few neighbors, signed a letter to a major grocery chain requesting a store in our area. Surprisingly, the chain responded, and responded quickly, but noted that our community did not meet its desired demographic. No dog whistles here. The chain was clear on their reason. Mega gentrification later, that grocery store is now one within a half-mile of my home.

The food story isn’t just about convenience. It is about sheer availability. As we face this coronavirus emergency and try to prevent community spread, it is good to hear state and local officials acknowledging the need for food for students as they close schools. They know that far too many children rely on school breakfast and lunch programs as their only meal for the day. The most recent data from the US Department of Agriculture noted about 12% of Americans are food insecure, meaning they don’t routinely know where their next meal will come from. But when you disaggregate that data by race, we again see the disparate realities faced by people of color 22.5% of African American, and 18.5% of Latinx households are food insecure.

I find myself cooking comfort foods as I self-quarantine. For me, pot roast is one of those comfort foods, and pot roast just isn’t pot roast without potatoes, carrots and onions. When I peel those onions, I sometimes cry. A chemical in the onions has irritated my tear glands. I can just as easily cry for the inequality so many people face every day. Even more so in times like now.

destiny of nations quoteNews stories are highlighting loss of income for minimum wage/hourly workers and gig workers not working due to coronavirus related shutdowns or lessened hours. When was the last time you thought about minimum wage workers? Do you know what the minimum wage is? How far does a minimum wage worker’s paycheck go? As we come to rely more on grocery store workers, think about their salaries, their benefits. So many of the people who hold the fabric of our society together receive little of our attention or our support. As your knowledge grows and you realize the unequal treatment and disparate outcomes, you may experience tears, sadness, or regret.

There’s no time for tears and let’s not look back with regret. Take action. Let’s turn these moments of realization into catalysts for transformation. You have free time now. Google to see where and how you can become an advocate for change.

As I sit down with my pot roast, it’s not just a meal providing sustenance, it’s comfort food. We must work to fix inadequacies in the way things are, so they become as they should be for all people. We must thank and support the stockers in grocery stores, the restaurateurs like Jose Andres, and all who are helping us to get through this situation. It’s not just about survival, it’s about the nourishment of our souls.