Fruits of Our Labor

Growing up, I had no idea what Labor Day was all about or what it meant to be part of the laboring nation. To me, it was simply another day that I didn’t have to be in school … sort of like a last hurrah of summer before I really put my nose to the grindstone. Once I hit 16, however, it was a completely different story. That’s when I was hired for my very first job. Not so much work as it was a way to pay for the important things in life – car, clothes, CDs, a ticket to Country Fest – I quickly learned the importance of hard work and the value of the hard-earned dollar.

My very first job was as a Jill-of-all-trades at McDonald’s. You see, at those kind of places, you don’t just get to do one thing … you do it all. However, my first few days, I was stuck on French fry duty for four hours at a time. That meant I had to put the frozen product in the deep fryer, pull them up, salt them, box them and do it all over again. Needless to say, I have absolutely hated McDonald’s fries ever since. But after four hours of grease, salt and so many burns I couldn’t even count, I had an entirely new appreciation for people who work at fast food restaurants. Moreover, I sincerely believe that everyone should have to hold that type of job at some point in their life.

I feel those same sentiments about my second and third jobs, as well. Before I started working in the restaurant business, I simply assumed that, once you order food at a restaurant, it should magically appear in front of you in a reasonable amount of time. As I would soon learn in my position as a cook and server at a small cafe in my hometown, there is a lot of hard work that goes into those jobs. Before I began waiting tables, I never really understood why we needed to leave tips. Waiters and waitresses make minimum wage, so why do they need extra money, right? Not so much.

In my opinion, servers are the hardest working individuals in the workforce, right alongside farmers and construction workers. I mean, think about it … they bring you food, drinks and are at your beck and call while you’re in their place of work, most are on their feet for at least eight hours a day and they’re doing it all while making less than minimum wage. Servers depend on tips to make a living because, Lord knows, they’d be hurting if they were counting solely on their wages to pay their bills. While I was making my way through college, I revisited my days of working in fast food when I took a job at Dairy Queen. But it wasn’t until I began working there that I really got the feeling that people really didn’t appreciate or understand the kind of labor employees at fast-food joints actually put in.

Not only were most of my co-workers full-time college students trying to earn some extra spending cash, but several were student-athletes, as well. Imagine trying to go to a full day of classes, hitting the gym or field for practice and then coming to work, only to get bitched at by unappreciative customers. While those types of jobs helped mold me into who I have become today, I must admit that I’m much happier not working in the food service industry. So, the next time you go out to eat, whether it be at a fancy restaurant or a fast-food joint, remember that just because the employees may be a little lower down the totem pole, they’re still an integral cog in the labor force of this country.

Jennie Oemig
Editor
Arcadia News-Leader