The common stereotype of those who live at or near the poverty level -- a misguided opinion shared by many a delusional middle classist -- is that such ones are generally shiftless, lack drive, and are where they are through no fault of the system, whatsoever. Those who inhabit the real world, outside of ivory towers and insular perceptual bubbles, know this to be a grossly unfair generalization, one fantastically out of touch with reality, and to such ones who hold onto this stereotype I would invite them to watch this film or read Barbara Ehrenreich's "Nickel and Dimed," both of which thoroughly debunk this fatuous notion regarding the working poor.
The fact of the matter is, a lot of indigent folks work full-time jobs (sometimes more than one) yet still find it difficult to eke out a living, sometimes even having to resort to living in trailer parks, motel rooms, or even out of their jalopies, only to have certain thoughtless and heartless critics in society look down their noses at them should these unfortunate souls find themselves in need of social assistance.
In WAGING A LIVING we follow four hard-working yet financially struggling jobholders over the course of a three-year period, in documentarian Roger Weisberg's excellent (and timeless) film, one that puts a human face to poverty, thanks in part to its up-close-and-personal, cinema verite approach to filmmaking.
We meet Jean, a woman from New Jersey, who for thirteen years has been working as a nursing assistant; Jerry, a lobby security guard who lives in San Francisco; Mary, a waitress; and Barbara, who works forty hour weeks caring for children, who'd like to better her situation, but doesn't have the time for it, as much as she'd like to enroll in a class so as to improve her job skills. Despite their strong work ethic, all four live paycheck-to-paycheck and count on food banks and thrift shops when the going gets really tough. All feel as if they're behind the eight ball, that no matter how hard they try, they just can't seem to get ahead. Funny that when one of them them is informed of a raise (a measly 25 cents), he seems genuinely pleased with the empty, token, pathetic gesture, settling for so little as so many exploited proletarians do.
Jean, Jerry, Mary, Barbara. Now here are people worth looking up to -- not multi-millionaire celebrities and sports stars, or pampered, nonproducing, rhetoric-spouting statesmen -- but everyday, inconspicuous heroes who for them life is a constant struggle and a daily grind yet whose inner strength and perseverance speak to the power of the human spirit.
The working poor, lazy? Irresponsible? Tell that to the single mother raising three kids who works during the day and moonlights at night and who's only one unreceived paycheck away from living in the streets.
In reality, if anything (and perhaps a stereotype, itself) are not most desk jockeys, pencil pushers, managers, and executives, with their cushy sinecures, closer to being the actual slothful beings among the workforce, and yet who get paid (often much) more than the industrious laborer? What's wrong with this picture? As with all sorts of other things in this topsy-turvy world of ours, quite a lot, methinks.
The fact of the matter is, a lot of indigent folks work full-time jobs (sometimes more than one) yet still find it difficult to eke out a living, sometimes even having to resort to living in trailer parks, motel rooms, or even out of their jalopies, only to have certain thoughtless and heartless critics in society look down their noses at them should these unfortunate souls find themselves in need of social assistance.
In WAGING A LIVING we follow four hard-working yet financially struggling jobholders over the course of a three-year period, in documentarian Roger Weisberg's excellent (and timeless) film, one that puts a human face to poverty, thanks in part to its up-close-and-personal, cinema verite approach to filmmaking.
We meet Jean, a woman from New Jersey, who for thirteen years has been working as a nursing assistant; Jerry, a lobby security guard who lives in San Francisco; Mary, a waitress; and Barbara, who works forty hour weeks caring for children, who'd like to better her situation, but doesn't have the time for it, as much as she'd like to enroll in a class so as to improve her job skills. Despite their strong work ethic, all four live paycheck-to-paycheck and count on food banks and thrift shops when the going gets really tough. All feel as if they're behind the eight ball, that no matter how hard they try, they just can't seem to get ahead. Funny that when one of them them is informed of a raise (a measly 25 cents), he seems genuinely pleased with the empty, token, pathetic gesture, settling for so little as so many exploited proletarians do.
Jean, Jerry, Mary, Barbara. Now here are people worth looking up to -- not multi-millionaire celebrities and sports stars, or pampered, nonproducing, rhetoric-spouting statesmen -- but everyday, inconspicuous heroes who for them life is a constant struggle and a daily grind yet whose inner strength and perseverance speak to the power of the human spirit.
The working poor, lazy? Irresponsible? Tell that to the single mother raising three kids who works during the day and moonlights at night and who's only one unreceived paycheck away from living in the streets.
In reality, if anything (and perhaps a stereotype, itself) are not most desk jockeys, pencil pushers, managers, and executives, with their cushy sinecures, closer to being the actual slothful beings among the workforce, and yet who get paid (often much) more than the industrious laborer? What's wrong with this picture? As with all sorts of other things in this topsy-turvy world of ours, quite a lot, methinks.