International Workers’ Day; Immigration Reform; Gas Drilling Industrialization


May 1st  was International Workers’ Day.  Some call it   “The Real Labor Day.”

In 1886,  the American Federation of Labor (AFL)  called on workers to strike any business that refused to abide by an 8-hour  workday.   According to Howard Zinn’s  A People’s History of the United States, (1995, p. 264)  on May 1,  1886,

350,000 workers in 11,562 establishments all over the country went out on strike.  In Chicago, 40,000 struck and 45,000 were granted a shorter working day to prevent them from striking.  Every railroad in Chicago stopped running and most of the industries in Chicago were paralyzed.  The stockyards were closed down.”

In 1880,  The United States’ population was approximately 50 million and  Chicago’s   was 500,000. According to the 1880 Census Compendium Part II,  there were   2.8 million  men, women and children working in the nation’s 254,000  manufacturing  facilities.  Using  Zinn’s figures then,  approximately 13% of US workers  went out on strike  May 1, 1886.

Imagine if,  in 2009,  13% of  the US’  140 million “documented”  workers had struck for  universal health care  and a living wage.   Go ahead.  Imagine  18 million  workers thronging the  streets, hand-in-hand, to advocate  for themselves, their children and the future of this nation.

In 1983,  the year my oldest son was born, we were in the middle of another “economic downturn.”  A gallon of gas cost $1.25,  a Dodge Ram truck cost $5700 and the average monthly rent was  $335.  Cleaning toilets and pushing a lawnmower earned me $10 an hour.  (When I saved enough to buy my father’s old riding mower, I was able to ask $15 an hour for larger properties.)

Seventeen years later, after the boom times of the 1990’s,  most of us freelance “domestic workers”  could make  $15-20 an hour.  Around that same time, our counterparts in New York City were  being paid  in the $25-30 range.

In July  2009 — the costs of most everything having doubled since 1983 —   the US  minimum wage was raised to $7.25 per hour.

This past May 1st,  I worked and was glad for it  though I know  Grandma and Grandpa were  rolling in their graves.  (May 1st was the date my family eschewed labor for history;  the day we  remembered  Samuel Gompers,  the AFL  and the perfidy of  police officers who helped  smother labor’s demands for living wages, humane working conditions and  equal pay regardless of  gender and race.)

On May 1, 2010,  I informed a prospective employer  that “I’d have to charge $20 an hour to clean his house”  and cited to the round-trip  travel time, cost of products, gas,  fuel oil, rent, etc.

The weighty pause on the other end of the phone and the aghast rejoinder took me by surprise,  “We won’t pay that.  We don’t pay more than $15 an hour in the City.”

“That’s interesting,”  said I.  “A few years ago,  the going rate for housekeepers in the City was nearer $25-30 an hour.”

“Not anymore,”  came the smug-sounding reply.

There are times when my naivete is unforgivable.

I asked another  “City dweller” — a member of a  white collar union  and gas drilling opponent —   what the going rate for domestic services  is in her neighborhood.  “Ten dollars an hour,”  she answered.  “But that’s because we have so many ‘illegals.'”

“‘Illegals?  You mean ‘undocumented workers?'”

She shrugged.

So for those of you who oppose gas drilling and own homes  in the City as well as in our rural Pennsylvania and New York communities, remember this simple action + action = results equation:

When you pay less than subsistence wages to  the “undocumented human”  who has to buy groceries and pay rent  in Manhattan,  Brooklyn or Long Island,

YOU  DRIVE DOWN  the wages of the person struggling  beside you in Callicoon, Milanville and Honesdale and

YOU ENSURE MORE WORKERS  WILL SIGN LEASES IN HOPES OF WINNING THE  GAS LOTTERY.

When I raised this issue of wage depression with friends who live both rurally and in the City,  I was told their  ability to share the wealth is constrained  by their loss of retirement funds;  that their “disposable” income has been drastically reduced  by cutbacks in their businesses and occupations.

I understand.  My bank account plunged right beside yours and Sullivan County’s  real unemployment figure is nearer 20% than the officially cited  10.9%

So given that we’re all in  greatly reduced circumstances,  here’s my deal:  I’ll reduce my housekeeping charges by $5  to $15 an hour if you’ll promise to increase my counterpart’s  wage in the City to a  $15 cash rate.

If you can still afford to hire domestic help, for your own sake,  pay them a living wage.  Otherwise, whose disposable income will  keep you in business?

I saved money during the 1983 downturn.  I paid the hospital and obstetrician  cash for their services.

The son born to me in 1983  was admitted to the New York State Bar last week.  If he was born today,  I doubt he’d ever see the inside of a law school.

Breathing is Political because our personal political, economic and social decisions influence the growth of a child in our neighbor’s womb.  A child’s life depends, in large part,  on the health of the mother and on  the parents’  ability to provide nutritious meals, books, ideas, a secure home and a realistic dream for the future.

For all workers, the breadth of that dream and its attainability  depend on you and me  caring about equitable treatment for all.  It does NOT depend on any one of us short-changing another simply because we can.

As for union workers who de-value the work and lives  of others’,  as I write this,  America’s teachers’ unions are the new target of labor reforms.  If the rest of us are busy scrabbling for each spare nickle,  when will we have leisure to come to your defense?

Local Student Asks, “Does The Future Include Me?”

When I was growing up I used to love dreaming about what I would be when I got older. Maybe a veterinarian, a teacher, doctor, a writer. My dreams and hopes were immeasurable. As I grew older, I saw that many jobs were being lost; many people no longer had job security. I became concerned about what I would do when I reached an age where a decision must be made. Would my job choice be sufficient for me to live somewhat comfortably and have a sense of job security?


As part of our series, “The Recession Outside My  Window,” our guest writer is eighteen year old  Ashley Colombo, Sullivan County resident, grocery store clerk and full-time  Orange County Community College student (OCCC). “I absolutely love it at OCCC — have never enjoyed school more,” she says.  “I’m going to be majoring in psychology, English, and criminology, but don’t  have a clue what I want to do when I grow up.”)

When I was growing up I used to love dreaming about what I would be when I got older. Maybe a veterinarian, a teacher, doctor, a writer. My dreams and hopes were immeasurable. As I grew older,  I saw that many jobs were being lost; many people no longer had job security.  I became concerned about what I would do when I reached an  age where a decision must be made. Would my job choice be sufficient for me to  live somewhat comfortably and  have a sense of job security?

Then, I began thinking about our technological revolution and how dependent we are on it. I realized that many jobs will be lost due to this revolution. For instance, in the future, schools won’t be necessary. Kids will sit in their homes and have their lessons broadcast to them. Thus, custodians, school nurses, teacher’s aides, cafeteria ladies, administration, guidance counselors are just a few positions that won’t be necessary. I believe, literally, that hundreds and thousands of jobs will  be annihilated due to our dependence on technology.

I also thought about the  overwhelming amount of money we’re forced to spend on school  in order to gain access to  many  soon-to-be   nonexistent jobs.  What bothers me most about going to college  and possibly beyond, is that after we spend thousands upon thousands of dollars, we are not guaranteed a job in the field we have so painstakingly studied. I know that as technology is totally integrated into  our society,  all those college degrees and doctorates and those cute little paper diplomas with the shiny seals, will mean absolutely nothing.

We hope that the pretty piece of paper in that frame will buy us groceries and pay our bills but  too many of us will  fall into the ‘my job choice no longer exists’ category. That’s what faces us even as  we start our adult lives in thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt.

It worries me that school costs so much in the first place.  It  makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.  Why must it be so hard to get ahead? We pay dearly for trying to make ourselves into something —  to better ourselves and to enrich our lives. What for? Why should I spend this money to try and make my life better, when in the end all it will do is knock my legs out from under me and take everything I have?

This seriously discouraged me about wanting to go back to school. I knew I had to, but did I really want to go through all of it just  to end up  coming home from being a greeter at a chain supermarket and  looking at the forsaken piece of framed paper hanging up on my wall,  knowing I was hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt because of it?  It’s a repulsive vision of a future that will probably be the reality faced by most of my generation and the generations to come.

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(Breathing Note:  Please encourage our Guest Writers by clicking the very tiny, nearly invisible “comment”  link hidden in the tags and categories beneath Ashley’s commentary.  Breathing Is Political extends its heartfelt appreciation to Ashley for participating in our “View Outside My Window”  series.)

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