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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