There is something to be said for the satisfaction of a hard day’s work…reflections and musings

I really wonder if some employers realize the impact of a job on a person’s life. And I am not simply referring to the monetary value of the job.
When I received my first paycheck after my first week back to my old job I very nearly cried. Although I don’t know what that really says about me to anyone reading this, but take a deep breath and I will explain.

I am 26 years-old and you could say I have worked almost my entire life. My maternal grandmother delivered magazines door-to-door, and delivered two major newspapers where she lived. All of her grandchildren, myself included, as well as all of her children when they were younger, grew up alongside of her helping her deliver magazines and newspapers. During my teen years, the magazine delivery job was no longer there and available for her to do, but she was still delivering the newspapers. Then the newspaper carriers went on strike, trying to demand a better wage with very good reason. Being paid by the paper, less than $1 per paper, having to pay for gas to drive your own car around, no health insurance, etc. all would make me a little eager to demand better pay. See…newspaper carriers are very much like Postal carriers, but without all those great federal perks. They HAVE to deliver the paper in rain, sleet, snow, hail, wind, etc. The news doesn’t stop for the weather. Regardless…when my grandmother joined the strike and no longer was working it was like someone had ripped out her heart. She didn’t know what to do with herself, and I was often a shoulder for her when the stress of having to ask her children for help tore her apart.
I guess you could say growing up around a woman such as my grandmother, who took such pride in every job she performed, that a little bit of that rubbed off on me. She taught me the importance of being independent, and the pride in a hard-earned dollar. But the lesson didn’t stop there. My parents are very much the same way. I grew up watching my parents struggle to pay bills, and feed a family of five. Their struggles, however, never stopped them from teaching us other lessons that could be taught with that hard-earned dollar.
I remember one Christmas I walked into our guest bedroom in the house, and my mom was wrapping presents. She looked up at me for a second and then continued to wrap presents. Needless to say I was a little shocked wondering why my mother hadn’t ushered me out the door. I mean, weren’t those presents for me and my siblings? I approached my mother and asked her, “mom, are these presents for us?” Without even looking at me, she told me no. So of course I asked who they were for. She stopped and put the present that she was wrapping aside and grabbed my hand. She pulled me over to sit on her lap and told me, “These are for the kids of a woman I work with.” I asked why their parents couldn’t buy them presents. She responded with, “Their parents work very hard, but bills are more important than presents. They make sure their children have food, shelter, and those things that are important in order to live. But everyone deserves a Christmas. They shouldn’t be punished because they don’t have a lot of money.” The next day I remember asking my mom what happened when she gave the bag of wrapped gifts to that woman, and my mom said she hugged her and cried thanking her. My mom told her there was no need to thank her at all, and that everyone needs help now and then. You could say that that moment has stuck with me my entire life.
My parents have always made it clear never to feel ashamed or embarrassed to ask for help, even when it comes to finances. If they can they will help knowing I would pay them back. But it doesn’t make the shame feel any less intense. So, when I was able to get my old job back and begin working again I was so happy. I wasn’t thrilled with the job, but I was thrilled that I got to work. I was ecstatic that I was once again going to be able to earn money, and pay some money back to my parents. That perhaps this was a break that would make things start to come together. Soon I would be offered an even better job, and I could begin to really realize my goal of not only being financially independent, but to also be able to begin to save to one day retire my parents. To be able to help out those around me that need it the most. See, that is an absolute dream of mine…to get a fantastic job that allows me to be comfortable, but with enough left over to put aside to save for my parents and for a rainy day when someone else may need a boost.
So when that first check appeared I nearly cried because it represented so many different things to me. It meant yes, I was part of the work force once again and not sitting at home waiting for a phone call to work. It meant that although not a great income, but I had some money of my own coming in and I wouldn’t have to worry about turning to my parents for help. It meant that, in the smallest way, I was becoming my independent self again.
As I say, I really do wonder if employers realize the impact of a job on a person’s life…if they did, would that change their attitudes or pre-conceptions of certain members of the work force? Would the ridiculous thought of, “that job is so low-some no one would really want to do that” be wiped from their mind, and realization that someone could very well depend on a job no matter how “low-some” it may seem? Would they think about how a job and a paycheck may affect a person’s emotional and physical well-being?