Working Hard for Little Pay

More than two decades has passed, but whenever I think of those words, frustration and helplessness never fail to well up, if only for a little while.

I was a cashier at a grocery store and maybe I sighed when I picked up a bag of dog food or probably looked like I didn't want to be there, but the customer watched with an amused, tolerant smile on his face as he turned to his wife and said, " I wonder what they'd do if they really had to work."

As a grocery store employee, I was used to unsolicited comments from the public, but his assumption that I didn't know anything about hard work was just plain wrong. I continued to ring up his groceries in silence; he'd not been talking to me, just about me.

I didn't tell him I'd already spent several years as a weaver at the Cannon Mill, making cloth into towels, a job that required standing and walking for the majority of the eight-hour shift. The hardest part of that job, back when textiles was a strong and sure thing, was the fear that I'd end up staying there forever.

I didn't tell him I'd also worked at a dime store, or about my first job at Kings Mountain State Park, but if he'd asked, I would've had to admit that was the total sum of my experience, but hey, I was only 23.

He also didn't know that if I looked like I didn't want to be there it might have been because I had two young children with mental disabilities at home, and was worrying about the oldest one's seizures. And then there was the never-ending guilt trip of leaving the girls to go to work at a job in which the bi-weekly paycheck was hardly worth the effort it took to earn it.

I'd be willing to bet that whatever job the man worked hard at-and I'm sure he worked hard-that he wasn't the chief cook and bottle washer when he got home. His workday probably ended after eight hours. Sure he could help out if he wanted to, but more than likely that was a choice from which he could opt out.

I walked out of that job one night and didn't go back after a manager yelled at me about a cash register error. Leaving wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I told myself then that if I was going to work, the money was going to have to make it worth my while. Subsequently, I earned two college degrees, and am fortunate to still have a good job despite today's economy. And I'm still caring for my two girls, which as anybody with children knows, is a 24/7 job.

Whether you're a man or a woman if you have a wife or husband who stays home or did stay home to take care of your children, thank your lucky stars.