I’ve had a pretty privileged work life, though, to my credit, I earned it. And now I have the luxury of writing, though not as much as I should be doing. Files and folders to go through. Combining the academic and policy parts of my career, I’m mostly interested in our cultural ideas about who has what, who doesn’t, what’s fair, and the discourse that informs us. It’s all around us in these times.
But I guess a little Studs Terkel tweak in me today. It relates. People do so many kinds of work and I’ve blogged about some of it…the surgeons, nurses, CNAs, the best of all, except for one who shoved me when I had a cast on my arm. That hospital would have been so liable and I would have sued that no nothing punk if I had a fall. That bad stuff over.
What I want to write good about. The most generous caretakers and neighbors who check in on me everyday and spot me as I move and support me as I work to be strong again. LYFT drivers, bus drivers, delivery drivers who I’ve met. Really just people like me. Can almost always have a good, sometimes, super good, conversation with someone whose life story is very different from mine and equally worthy.
Veterinarians. All of my beloved dogs and cats…this has been over decades…I don’t have a house of animals, just one little kitten…had the best care anyone could hope, and the Animal Hospital here is over the top great.
Today it’s the maintenance guys. They are replacing the water heater and furnace. A lot of sawing and bumping but something I could never do. It’s been a whole day job.
And they’re really nice.
Next, farmers. They’re getting hurt by the critter and the skunk, but what would we do without farmers. And yes, the immigrants, who harvest for the packed full supermarkets. (I first heard the term “stoop labor”, didn’t know what it meant, when explained to me, thought it was one of most demeaning terms for humans who work that hard…barely many of us could do…so there are packed full supermarkets for the privileged. And don’t we like our avocados.) The people who work in pretty inhumane meat processing.
After that, auto workers. Skills I never could know. Being put into uncertainty, their lives, by an erratic situation in DC.
And hair stylists. I can use a blow dryer and curling iron and hot rollers but that’s about it. No way no how I can do a good cut. If left to me, what a mess.
People at the call centers. It seems like the definition of thankless job. Me being in the hospital for a bunch of 2024, and late 2023, I wasn’t using my debit cards. (Credit cards neither. Bad being in hospital. Good rising credit score.) And coming back, had some replacement cards made. So making sure the PINs still are right, called on the duh, phone, while on my laptop at the same time. It took a while but they were problem solvers. And then a family friend took my debit cards to the little market here to check the PINs and they worked. Yay. The T-Mobile guy who helped me replace my dying phone with an update that is working great, much better.
Tonight dealing with badly botched Instacart delivery, had to call, ended up talking with customer service. It’s evening here. The man I got switched to is in South Africa. Five a.m. and his shift was almost ready to end. We dealt with the order issues, didn’t take long, and then just had a conversation. It was so friendly and world watching.
The women who have over the years cleaned up my hotel rooms. I never was messy, because that is rude, but those women made the bed and took out the towels. They made a gracious space for me. And because they are working, again, more thankless jobs, I did always tip well because I could.
The guys who empty the trash and recycling. Another thankless job. But what would we do without them.
Postal workers. Not the easiest job but yeah, they deliver.
Being up late, as I do, or early, as I do, I’ve been scribbling, as I do. Probably obsessive But whatever.
It’s all everybody.
Dayna Finet 