The Dignity of
Work
I once wrote a poem
that began like this:
There are only five things to
pursue in this life:
Love, beauty, compassion, justice,
and a job.
Without those elements, life
doesn’t amount to much.
That last
element—a job—is a big one. Without a job, you can’t pay today’s bills, let
alone plan for the future. This shines a very bright spotlight on the dignity
of work. Let me give you a few examples from my experience.
My father, Charles
Sr., served twenty years in the Navy, retiring as a chief petty officer. He
began his service in 1915 during World War I. The Navy taught him a trade, and
after his discharge, he found a job at Mare Island Naval Shipyard in Vallejo,
California, as a boilermaker. He worked there for twenty-three years. He was in
the process of filing for retirement when he died of a heart attack. He was
only sixty-four. My dad was the hardest working man I’ve ever known. He had an
eighth-grade education, but he knew his trade and he knew he could outwork any
two men combined. He spent his entire adult life working for the federal
government, and there was dignity in being a veteran, a proud union member, a
boilermaker.
Another example: My
former father-in-law, Tommy Beaver, served in North Africa during World War II,
then deployed overseas again during the Korean War. He owned a navy-blue ball
cap with the legend in gold letters, “Veteran / WWII / Korea,” and he wore it
proudly. After the Army, he also worked at Mare Island. He was a machinist by
trade and became an inspector in the nuclear submarine program, a program that
produced seventeen nuclear ships, including seven “boomers” armed with Polaris
missiles. Late in his career, he won an award for a “beneficial suggestion” to
improve a process in production. A plaque was awarded in a public ceremony, and
it came with a bonus which he used to take his family to dinner. There was
pride and dignity in serving his country, first in war, then again in peace.
My dad and my
former father-in-law were heroes in my book. But let’s look at a more mundane example.
The elementary school I attended had a couple of rooms at the end of the north
wing that were dedicated to Special Education. There was a group of kids who
attended classes there, part of our student body, but separate and apart. Several
of them managed to thrive and learn in that environment and went on to graduate
from high school. Everything they needed—specially trained teachers,
curriculum, supplies—would be provided today by the Department of Education. There
is value and dignity in working for an agency that makes sure school districts
across the country can keep the lights on for Special Ed kids and their
teachers.
One more brief
example: How many of you remember the day you enrolled in Medicare? Or the day
you applied for Social Security? I recall sitting in a large room, metal chairs
arranged in neat rows, thirty or forty people in the room waiting for their
appointments to be called. I remember the rep who handled my application, who
took me through the process efficiently and treated me with respect. I went
through the same experience again to enroll my wife Barbara in Medicare and
apply for spousal benefits under Social Security. For us, there were no
complications, no problems to solve, but I’m sure that’s not true for every
applicant. How many people—from all walks of life and all levels of complexity—does
a Social Security Representative see in a day, a month, a year? There is value
and dignity in doing that work.
I could go on, sharing
experiences with the many agencies and departments that we depend on: The Post
Office, Air Traffic Control, National Weather Service, National Park Service, Veterans
Administration, and yes, even the IRS. It’s likely everyone reading this has a
story—positive, negative, or neutral—to share about their contact with a
federal agency.
Let me state clearly,
I am in favor of eliminating waste, fraud, and abuse. And if fraud is found, the Department of
Justice should prosecute the offenders. However, today people who work for the
federal government are under attack, told not to report to work, locked out of
their offices, given fifteen minutes to pack their personal belongings and
leave. Without cause, due process, or review, they receive email notification
of termination. Many have long years of service in their jobs. Many are
veterans. We see Marjorie Taylor Greene loudly proclaiming, “Federal workers do
not deserve their jobs.” We see Elon Musk dancing around a stage like an
adolescent on a sugar high, wielding a blinged-out chainsaw while shouting,
“This is the chainsaw of bureaucracy.” And we see his boast about “feeding
USAID to the woodchipper.”
There is no beauty
or compassion in what’s going on, and certainly no love, except for the love of
cruelty. A flood of lawsuits has been filed to stop what the Trump
administration is doing, because much of it appears to be illegal and in
violation of the Constitution. Many of those cases will wind up at the Supreme
Court and the Roberts Court will decide what is the law of the land.
My father used to say, “There is a right way, a wrong way, and the Navy way.” As a twenty-year Navy man, there was no question which “way” he preferred. But if we are going to do this DOGE thing, we need to choose the right way. Do it through study, audit, and recommendation. Do it by congressional action, in accordance with the Constitution and existing law. Do it with compassion and the realization that every termination represents a human being, a person with real life responsibilities. Do it with respect for the dignity of work.
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