What's wrong with being a janitor?

In the most recent Republican debate in Myrtle Beach, SC, Juan Williams and Newt Gingrich got into a lively back and forth over comments that Gingrich had made concerning President Obama, food stamps and jobs. In Newt's response to Williams he further stated an example of how jobs could be created for young people. He suggested that, given the very high pay rate of janitors in New York that, if they were to reduce the number of janitors by just a few, that money could be paid to many more young unemployed people at a starting wage and help them to earn money, learn the benefit of a job and paycheck, and learn about the responsibility that comes with having to come to work on time and put in a full shift of work.

Somehow, Mr. Williams thought that suggestion was demeaning, especially to young African-Americans. I guess doing the job of a janitor is somehow beneath some people. Newt's comments drew a very rare, standing ovation.

When I was 15, my first job that provided an actual paycheck and eventual W2 form was working at a softball field one summer...I made a whopping $1.60 per hour; then minimum wage. My job was to pick up all the trash that remained from the previous evening's games, and to prepare the field for that night's games. The coolest part of the job was dragging the infield. During the interview, I was asked if I knew how to drive a stick shift vehicle. I lied and said of course I could. The ball field had an old, beat-up Volkswagen Beetle that was used to pull a small section of chain link fence in a circular pattern around the infield to smooth out the clay. That's how I learned how to drive a manual transmission. I mowed grass, striped the baselines and batter's boxes with chalk, and even built some new bleachers...pretty much everything. I was the only one there all day long. My boss told me that I could help myself to anything I wanted out of the concession stand behind the backstop. I learned that if I worked a vigorous pace, I could spend a good part of the day sitting in the small concession building drinking Fanta Grape soda and listening to the latest hits on the cheap AM radio. If I dragged the work out, well...less time to relax.

When my junior year of high school started in the fall, my next job was working in the motor pool at an Army Reserve Center. I worked in the afternoon after school from 1-5 since our school was doing double sessions and my school day ended at noon. That's where I learned about working with folks with all sorts of different personalities and opinions (I was the only young guy working there.) I also learned a few dirty jokes, how to make strong, black coffee and how to drive all of the vehicles there...jeeps, deuce and a half, and the big 10 ton trucks (essentially like the big over-the-road tractor-trailer truck on the highway.) I wasn't able to play sports or run track that year because I needed the job and couldn't do both.

Moving to Augusta for my senior year, my job on weekends was working as a janitor at the NCO Club at Fort Gordon. I pushed a broom, picked up trash, mopped and did just about any other menial task I was asked to do. By the way, minimum wage was still $1.60 per hour.

I never believed that any of those jobs were beneath me. Hey, I needed a job and was willing to take whatever I could get. I learned so much in that process. I also learned that I didn't want to do those types of jobs for the rest of my life.

I won't bore you with all the jobs I've had but my last employer hired me to work in a warehouse shipping out parts for a whopping $2.35 per hour. I retired from that company nearly 33 years later and was blessed to climb the ladder doing several different jobs, including 15 years as a VP. Not bragging....just illustrating the fact that we all have to start somewhere and for most, it is near the bottom of the ladder. Oh, and that metaphor is intentional...we learn that climbing is hard work.

But some believe that suggesting that someone do a janitorial or other menial job is insulting and demeaning. Wow, I never realized that I should have been insulted all those years. I was just thankful to have a job, a paycheck and an opportunity.