Wage slavery

The other day I was listening to Air America Radio and a caller was talking about how the increase in housing prices had meant that more people were more and more enslaved by their jobs. It brings to mind a book that I started reading a couple of times--The Soul of Capitalism, by William Greider. He starts off by talking about his grandparents, who had their own farm and were mostly self-sufficient. They grew their food, did what needed doing. His grandfather's failed attempt at indoor plumbing meant that they were still using an outhouse. Now, William Greider has been around for a while, but even for him, growing up in simpler times, visiting his grandparents, he said, felt full of privation. Yet his grandfather so greatly valued his independence, he spoke with great scorn of those who would sign themselves up for "wage slavery." Yet here in 21st century America, there are few of us who are not wage slaves. We don't work for the joy of it--we feel lucky if we like our jobs, and if we can keep the jobs that we like. We work because how else will we live? How could we avoid homelessness and hunger? How could we keep our families together?

I work in a high-tech industry. I work with people who are, for the most part, managing to "make it" in America. They have cars and homes and decent salaries. Of course, they know the wolf is always at the door. You know it by the gallows humor you hear in hallways and staircases. The threat of losing your job to outsourcing or offshoring is real. We know it because most of us have seen it up close and personal.

It's interesting to me how people sometimes reveal their fanatasies of being able to live another life. The program manager at that Large Software Company who wants to open up a bar in the Carribbean. The high-powered manager and the technical writer who both harbor dreams of running a bakery. We spend our time in these jobs which pay the bills, but do not fulfill our deep longing to do what we love. We hope that if we do it long enough, we can figure out a way out. But all around us, life becomes more and more expensive. For many of us, just to try to hold on to something that resembles the standard of living we had growing up costs us most of our time, energy, and imagination.

I went to a church service this weekend and a folk singer sang "9 to 5," the song from the old Dolly Parton/Lily Tomlin movie. (I wondered how that would work out--it's not really a folk song. But it came out pretty well, actually.) At any rate, I couldn't help but think about the people I know who work 10-12 hour days regularly. I don't do that, but I see it. It's not pretty. At any rate, the song of course is about working for someone who uses you as a tool for their own enrichment and advancement. Wage slavery.

Now there are plenty of people in this world who are worse off, of course. I think about workers in Chinese factories who are instructed to lie to inspectors, telling them they get to take one day off a week. Where if you get sick, you lose your job. Workers in Saipan who are forced to take pregnancy tests and get abortions in order to stay employed. People who are trafficked across borders to work as sex workers or to be used as sweatshop labor. In lots of ways, the people I work with and most people I know, in comparison to that, live lives of ease and freedom.

But yet. I can't help but think there must be another, better way to be. For me, for them, for us. As for me, I'm still looking.