MY low-wage life

Low wage work is a common concept for teenagers accepting a first or second job. Spending money is the primary incentive as opposed to money to pay the bills or the beginnings of a career. This, at least, was the primary incentive I had for accepting the first two jobs of my life. In my very first job as a caddy, I was introduced into a workplace that gave both financial profits as well as flexible hours. I began to wonder why I kept hearing people discuss this monster that is low wage work. That’s when I accepted my first winter position at a local health club. What I received was minimal funds and an inside view on adults in the quicksand of low wage labor. As an Operations Team Member at a local health club, I encountered adults who needed a job that meant less than nothing to me.

I have always been a punctual worker who works by the motto, “If they’re paying me I might as well do something,” which, albeit, may not be the most driven mindset, but still does imply work. However, by no means have my two beginning jobs been the most important thing on my mind. Instead, I would liken them to going to school or, more simply, a means to an end. You go to work to get the pocket change and duck out before your manager can ask you to work longer. That is until you realize the thirty-year-old single mother of seven or fifty plus post retiree that needed to return to work so that there would be food on the table. That’s when the clear-cut objectives of such a job begin to look a little murky.

I began caddying at age 12 and have continued for the past seven years. Along that time I have worked up the ranks to the top level as an honor caddy. At this level I found a normal days salary ranging between $100-250, with the maximum duration of a ten-hour day. I thought this was a normal salary from a low wage job, and began to take the work for granted. That was until last year when I started my first winter job at Lifetime Fitness health club.

It did not take a while before I adopted a new view on the life of a low-wage worker. At this new job I encountered people of all ages who completed the same back bending labor as I did for the pocket change that I could go through in a week without a second glance. I listened to the plethora of medical and financial problem that these people had to deal with while attempting to navigate an insurmountable bill to wages ratio. One common trend that I realized was that this job was by no means a career for anyone who worked it. It was simply a means to an end. Or it had been twelve years earlier when they took the job to pay the bills. Others had layoffs, children, and relationships to blame their financial need on, yet time and again I found people who hadn’t intended to hold the job longer then a year watching it turn into a lifelong career.