I have worked for minimum wage but by no means would consider myself a low-wage worker. I mean after reading Shipler and seeing the horrific conditions so many of the true low-wage workers in Americans undergo, I would be a poser to ever try and classify myself in the same boat as them. I mean considering I am attending a private, out of state university and currently writing this topic invention on my own laptop…I am definitely not one to talk. However, I can sympathize to some degree with those unreliable hours, annoying customers, and stupid company rules employers must abide by. Having worked at Starbucks for close to two and a half years and having had experience in the retail business at my local mall, I recognize the daunting tasks of cleaning toilets and meticulously folding and refolding clothes in the “correct” fashion.
The summer going into my senior year of highschool I decided to take on two part-time jobs simply to occupy time and ensure I would not have any downtime that summer (I am the kind of person who LOVES to be constantly busy). I had been working at Starbucks for a year and had always been intrigued by the whole “working a mall” idea. I was approached one day at a store named Hollister&Co and I soon found myself filling out an application, being called back for an interview, and soon after being offered a job. As silly as it sounds I was excited I had been offered a job here because I had heard they only ask “attractive” people to apply…how superficial do I feel right now…During my time at Hollister I felt as if I was being trained in the wrong aspects of the industry. I was more interested in helping individuals or families select new clothes opposed to pushing new and disgustingly smelling products on customers. I felt so phony when I was forced to greet every single customer with our current catchphrase or ask them if they had checked out our new body products before checking them out at the register. Regardless of how this morally made me feel I found myself nervous when my manager would begin his rounds to see if all of us employees were following proper store procedure. I worried and fussed about my appearance and if I had already worn a certain outfit to work during previous shifts. I made sure I was aware of the daily store goals, how many items had been stolen from us in the previous two weeks, and what our most current store greeting was. This daily process consumed me and I lost track of who I truly was as an individual. There was no room to be an individual in this corporation.
I would often find myself running between shifts at Hollister and Starbucks with very little downtime. I was constantly terrified of being late and getting written up. Nonetheless, whenever I was transitioning between shifts I found time for myself where I did not have to be concerned about serving the customers. I definitely felt better treated and more appreciated while working at Starbucks. I felt like I was actually serving a purpose and was able to connect with customers on a more real basis. I felt as though my personal identity was more in tact and I could truly be myself around my fellow employees and customers. Reflecting back on it, many of my fellow employees, or “partners” as we call ourselves in Starbucks world, are actually working here to support their families, earn money to send themselves to school, or simply have enough money to pay bills and actually make a living. For me, I was working there for some extra cash to have on hand since I have not received a real allowance since I was a freshman in high school. This realization became even more evident and struck home more after reading the first three chapters of Shipler. I was a worker because I wanted to, not because I needed to be.
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