Friday Tunes: The Way It Is

This week’s installment of labour issues in popular culture features The Way It Is by Bruce Hornsby. Hornsby identifies many of the themes covered in Linda Tirado’s book Hand to Mouth that I wrote about on Tuesday. He tackles poverty and the demonizing of the poor (“The man in the silk suit hurries by/As he catches the poor old ladies' eyes/Just for fun he says ‘Get a job’”).

He also comments on racism (“They say hey little boy you can't go/Where the others go/'Cause you don't look like they do”). Yet this song ends on a more upbeat note, identifying the (imperfect) changes that flowed from the US civil rights movement and questions whether indeed “That's just the way it is/Some things will never change”.



Standing in line marking time
Waiting for the welfare dime
'Cause they can't buy a job
The man in the silk suit hurries by
As he catches the poor old ladies' eyes
Just for fun he says "Get a job"

That's just the way it is
Some things will never change
That's just the way it is
But don't you believe them

They say hey little boy you can't go
Where the others go
'Cause you don't look like they do
Said hey old man how can you stand
To think that way
Did you really think about it
Before you made the rules
He said, Son

That's just the way it is
Some things will never change
That's just the way it is
But don't you believe them

Well they passed a law in '64
To give those who ain't got a little more
But it only goes so far
There's a the law that don't change another's mind
When all it sees at the hiring time
Is the line on the color bar

That's just the way it is
Some things will never change
That's just the way it is
But don't you believe them

-- Bob Barnetson

Poverty, sex and the working poor

Over the holidays, I had a chance to read Hand to Mouth: Living in Bootstrap America. Author Linda Tirado is one of the working poor—holding multiple jobs at or just above minimum wage with few or no benefits and zero job security—and provides pretty blunt insight into a life without hope as well as the logic of grinding poverty.

She explains the oft-cited lack of work ethic among low-wage workers (would you go all out if you worked two jobs for minimum wage for jerks and could be fired at will?) and the constant state of emergency that poverty brings. She debunks most advice for pulling oneself out of poverty (assuming she pinched every penny and absolutely nothing went wrong, she estimates she could save a whole $260 a year).

Particularly stinging is her analysis of how the working poor are despised for their circumstances. For example, the working poor are often criticized for having multiple children, but are denied adequate income to purchase birth control and limited (and deteriorating) access to publically funded birth control. Yet the same lack of funds also means that sex is one of the few forms of recreation the working poor can afford.

Entertainment costs. Movies, bowling, whatever you can think of that nice folks do on dates that don’t involve sex—that’s all a luxury. When you have nothing in your wallet and nothing else to do, sex is really good for killing time. I’ve spent more than one afternoon in bed because it was the only entertaining option I had. Give the choice between a) sex minus boredom, and b) celibacy plus boredom, I think we all know which one is preferable.

This gives rise to judgments about the morals of the working poor:

That does mean we’re indiscriminant. We do not simply drop trou and rut like animals upon spotting another human that we might be able to fuck. We have sex for the same reasons rich people do—we are in love, we like someone’s smile, someone made us laugh. Sometime’s they’re cute and there’s a spark.

Overall, a very eye-opening book that identifies classist assumptions and the systemic issues that create and sustain poverty. Particularly poignant are her thoughts about the inter-generational nature of poverty and how poor people are judged for things they essentially can’t control:

I’m not preparing our kids for a gentle world full of interesting and stimulating experiences. I’m getting them ready to keep their damn mouths shut while some idiot tells them what to do. I’m preparing them to keep a sense of self when they can’t define themselves by their work because the likeliest scenario is that (unlike doctors and lawyers) they will not want to. I’m getting them ready to scrap and hustle and pursue happiness despite the struggle. 

I think a lot of what people see as bad parenting is simply that our kids have different expectations, It would make any sense to take wealthy kids and prepare their brains for drudge work. And it doesn’t make much sense to take poor kids and prepare them to seek fulfillment from work. That’s not how it goes for us. If the find it, that’s fantastic. But odds are. They will work just as many zombie jobs as they will good ones.

Tirado’s writing is (ahem) a bit “earthy” and oscillates between hilariously insight and extremely angry (this isn’t an easy book to read). But it is worthwhile.

-- Bob Barnetson

Friday Tunes: Bread and Roses

This week’s installment of labour themes in popular culture is the song Bread and Roses. The song has it origins in the early part of the 20th century and is most often associated with the 1912 textile strike in Lawrence, Massachusetts. This strike was largely led by women and the lyrics speak to the need for both fair wages and dignified conditions of work and life.

Our days shall not be sweated from birth until life closes,
Hearts starve as well as bodies, give us bread, but give us roses

The video below is from the movie Pride, which documents the support of British LBGT activists of coal miners during the 1984 strike. Pride is one of two movies about the coal strike the Alberta Labour History Institute is screening (for free!) on February 5 (7 pm show time) at the Garneau Theatre.



As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses
For the people hear us singing, bread and roses, bread and roses.

As we come marching, marching, we battle too, for men,
For they are in the struggle and together we shall win.
Our days shall not be sweated from birth until life closes,
Hearts starve as well as bodies, give us bread, but give us roses.

As we come marching, marching, un-numbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread,
Small art and love and beauty their trudging spirits knew
Yes, it is bread we. fight for, but we fight for roses, too.

As we go marching, marching, we're standing proud and tall.
The rising of the women means the rising of us all.
No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories, bread and roses, bread and roses.

-- Bob Barnetson

Fall out from farm worker WCB exemption

Last week, the Parkland Institute released a report examining why Alberta continues to exclude farm workers from mandatory workers’ compensation coverage. The crux of it was that the Tories are in a symbiotic relationship with rural voters: farmers vote Tory and the Tories (more or less) enact policies farmers want.

There was some good coverage in the Edmonton Journal. The Minister of Jobs, Skills, Training and Labour (Ric McIver) responded to demands for mandatory workers’ compensation coverage for farm workers by saying:

“It’s a traditional system that we haven’t chosen to change.”

The Calgary Herald subsequently pointed out that maintaining historical practices does not necessarily result in ethical or otherwise desirable public policy (cough, cough…segregation, male-only franchise, slavery, residential schools). Maybe pubic policy should be based on a deeper rationale than “that’s the way we’ve always done it”?

McIver also said Alberta has other supports in place for farm workers who have endured financial ruin after an uninsured injury or death. The newspaper didn’t report what those supports are, but I would guess he’s talking about CPP or EI (which are actually federal programs), welfare and, as the Herald snarkily suggested, maybe food banks. 

Not really a great set of “supports” compared to what farm workers would get if their employers were compelled to carry under worker’s compensation coverage.

(A)nd he added that farm workers are not the only Albertans without WCB coverage. 

“When I ran an independent business, and just worked for myself, there were times when I wasn’t required to have WCB insurance, and I worked under those conditions for a number of years myself,” McIver said. 

He rejected a suggestion that a self-employed person chooses not to have coverage, while a farm worker has no choice and is instead at the mercy of his or her employer, who decides whether or not to purchase WCB coverage. 

“Respectfully, they do (have a choice). If they take a job that doesn’t have that coverage, they do. I think people need to make the best choices they can for themselves and their families.”

Where to start? Clearly there is a difference between choosing not to have coverage as a self-employed worker and having your employer choose not to cover you as a worker. In one case, you have a choice and in the other your don’t. This is so obvious as to warrant a "duuuh". 

Caught out by the reporter, McIver then switched arguments to “well, you don’t have to work there.” The idea that farm workers have a choice in the jobs is deceptively attractive. It is, theoretically, true. 

Yet, it ignores that farm work is (for the most part) unskilled labour. Those farm workers who have other employment options have largely departed the occupation (which is one reason farmers are bringing in foreign migrant workers). 

Much of the remainder of the workforce is, effectively, trapped in the occupation unless they want to quit and go on welfare (or just quietly starve to death).

What I’m most struck by is how unsympathetic the Minister’s response was to the plight of injured farm workers and the families of farm workers who died on the job. He (and by association, the government) looks like a real prick.

So what happened? Did he get really, really bad communications advice? Or did he fail to heed that advice? (When I worked in government, there were some Ministers who were simply unbriefable.)

Alternately, this may well be the best rationale the Tories can come up with for the continued exclusion of farm workers from mandatory workers’ compensation coverage. If so, perhaps they might want to change their policy?

-- Bob Barnetson

Friday Tunes: Teacher, Teacher

There are lots of songs about jobs. Today’s installment of labour themes in popular culture is one of my favourite songs from the 1980s: .38 Special’s Teacher, Teacher (from the 1984 soundtrack to Teachers and co-written by Bryan Adams, of all people).

Written from the perspective of a high-school student, it highlights the role teachers play in opening students’ eyes—even if some of the enlightenment comes later and only after some experience (“Just when I thought I finally learned my lesson well/There was more to this than meets the eye”).

It also canvasses the insecurity of young people transitioning into the labour market (“Am I ready for the real world? Will I pass the test?/You know it's a jungle out there”). And picking up on some of the themes from the movie, it also has a bit of cynicism (”But the joke's on those who believe the system's fair”). I have a hard time knowing if this song is intended to be upbeat or quite angst-ridden—perhaps it's both.




Just when I thought I finally learned my lesson well
There was more to this than meets the eye
And for all the things you taught me, only time will tell
If I'll be able to survive, oh yeah

Teacher, teacher can you teach me?
Can you tell me all I need to know?
Teacher, teacher can you reach me?
Or will I fall when you let me go? Oh, no

Am I ready for the real world? Will I pass the test?
You know it's a jungle out there
Ain't nothin' gonna stop me, I won't be second best
But the joke's on those who believe the system's fair, oh yeah

Teacher, teacher can you teach me?
Can you tell me if I'm right or wrong?
Teacher, teacher can you reach me?
I wanna know what's goin' on, oh yeah

So the years go on and on but nothing's lost or won
What you learn is soon forgotten
They take the best years of your life
Try to tell you wrong from right
But you walk away with nothing, oh oh

Teacher, teacher can you teach me?
Can you tell me all I need to know?
Teacher, teacher can you reach me?
Or will I fall when you let me go?

Teacher, teacher can you teach me?
Can you tell me if I'm right or wrong?
Teacher, teacher can you reach me?
I wanna know what's goin' on, oh

Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Teacher, teacher, oh yeah

Teacher, teacher can you teach me?
Teach me

-- Bob

Barnetson

A dirty business: Denying farm workers workers' compensation

The Parkland Institute has just released a report that examines the exclusion of Alberta farm workers from mandatory workers’ compensation. The short version is that Alberta’s waged farm workers generally have no wage-replacement, vocational rehabilitation or fatality benefits because the Tories have decided it is more important to retain the electoral support of rural voters (who don’t want to pay workers’ compensation premiums).

There is obvious more to it than that. One interesting wrinkle is that farm workers face very similar working conditions to firefighters. Neither can refuse unsafe work. Both have high risks of workplace injury, including developing occupational cancer. Yet farm workers have no access to workers’ compensation benefits. By contrast, firefighters have exceptional access, particularly around the issue of workplace cancer.

What explains this? Well, firefighters are unionized, white males who work for sophisticated employers who don’t oppose workers’ compensation for injuries sustained on the job. Farm workers? Not so much. Add in craven electoral politics and you see the government allowing farmers to transfer the cost of workplace injuries onto their workers and the public health system.

-- Bob Barnetson

Teachers, social work and workload

Teachers are often derided for their (allegedly) short working days and long vacations. These accusations have been repeatedly refuted. For example, a 2013 study found teachers in Alberta spent on average 41.3 hour per week working in school and an additional 13.9 hours per week working at home (that is, on average, 55.2 hours per week). Suddenly, two months of summer vacation seems a lot more reasonable.

This past weekend, the Guardian ran a piece about the working conditions of teachers. This teacher (in the UK) discussed the social issues she must cope with in her classroom (e.g., children under significant emotional strain, children who have been sexually abused) and how these affect her ability to meet national performance standards. In effect she spends much of her class room time on social work.

As I was pushing through the pre-holiday marking pile, I was thinking back to some of my own teachers and what they (unintentionally) taught me about teaching. Mr. Constable (who taught me English, Literature and History over the years) was a bit unconventional. For example, in grade-12 Literature, he returned a paper I submitted in grade-11 English. I recall my mother (herself a teacher) saying he must be a very patient marker… . But he also put up with a bad reading of Shakespeare (including me in drag as Lady MacBeth and a lot of fake blood) and history term papers that veered into speculative fiction.

Yet, when I face a paper that misses the mark or completely ignores the instructions, I often find myself thinking back to his very engaging style of teaching and lenient marking. “It’s often the first time through the material for the students,” he explained, “so you have to give them some latitude. The good ones refine their ideas that way.” I keep trying to remember that.

-- Bob Barnetson