Local budgets being what they are, it wasn’t possible for me to attend the June Financial Stability Conference in Chicago; however, when I read that one of the keynote speakers was Barbara Ehrenreich, author of a little book called “Nickel and Dimed, On (Not) Getting By in America,” I decided to do what was probably the better thing: I read the book.

Barbara’s journey began following a conversation where she found herself saying that “someone” ought to put the face of reality on the plight of the working poor. Of course, she wasn’t quite prepared when it was suggested that she might be just that person.

The project took place from 1998 to 2000 – before 9-11, $4/gallon gasoline and the housing crisis. Although she hid all credentials, Barbara set forth armed with a Ph.D. in biology, good health and a car. Her task was to secure a low-wage job and housing and support herself for one month, earning sufficient income to pay bills for the next month.

Journeying from Key West (her home base) to Portland, Maine, to the Twin Cities, Barbara worked as a waitress, hotel maid, house cleaner, nursing-home aide and retail clerk. She earned $6-$7 per hour at the various jobs. No such thing as benefits. She lived mostly in converted motels. She quickly found that one job would not do and added a second shift or weekend job. Still, she was healthier, better fed and usually more comfortably housed than her co-workers.

I wasn’t too surprised by the financial plight details or by the physical demands of the jobs Barbara described. I have a very little experience as restaurant server – enough to know that I hope to never have to depend on the job for a living. The hectic pace, standing, carrying and constant need to attend to tasks is exhausting. Sure, I’ve had poor service, but I have also had outstanding service and am always in awe at the ease with which these servers seem to handle their duties. I also never consider the tip a “gift.” It is payment earned by a person’s labor. As for the other jobs, tips aren’t even part of the equation. The back-breaking labor remains, however. Notice that there are no sit-down jobs listed.

I was most surprised by the two items that Barbara herself notes: the mental challenges of the tasks and the totalitarian nature of many low-wage work places. “I struggled to learn the computer ordering systems in restaurants, to memorize the names and dietary restrictions of 30 Alzheimer’s patients ... to memorize the exact locations of all the items in ladies wear – which would then be rotated every few days, no doubt to convince me that I had Alzheimer’s,” Barbara recalled.

Yet the most shocking parts of Barbara’s books were the descriptions of the treatment she and her co-workers received from supervisors. “I haven’t been treated this way – lined up in the corridor, threatened with locker searches, peppered with carelessly aimed accusations – since at least junior high school,” she wrote. Every job was “managed by stress” with supervisors imposing excessive rules regarding personal behavior (including restrictions from talking to coworkers and lack of bathroom privileges) and individual supervisor actions that dehumanized and demoralized even an interloper like Barbara.

Barbara concludes her book with an evaluation of her successes and failures and an often scathing assessment of the failure of Americans to so much as notice the plight of the people who provide services for them daily. She notes that the experience has left her in a state of “permanent, low-level rage.” Her response has been to join the movement for economic justice. Her work includes ongoing written articles and books, and discussion at her Web site: barbaraehrenreich.com.

My own response to reading “Nickel and Dimed,” beyond an even stronger commitment to system change, has been an increased awareness of the need to look into the faces of people I might not have even thought about before - cashiers, servers, clerks and the other service workers whose labor increases my quality of life every day – and acknowledge their contributions and sacrifices. 

Nancy Vaughan is president of United Way of Madison County Inc.