Labor Day

Labor Day became an official holiday in 1894 when President Cleveland signed it into law.

Until then, the typical workday was 12 hours, most people work seven days a week, and children as young as five worked in mills.

 We have come a long way.  As we prepare to celebrate Labor Day, I thought about the role of work in my life.

 At sixteen, I got my first job working from 5pm-9pm in a steel mill. It was tedious work. I swept the factory floor and put squares of steel onto hooks to be painted by industrial mills.

 In my senior year of High School, I worked at Dollar Bills, where everything sold for a dollar.

  I remember those days, I worked, and all of my friends worked. 

 We didn't care about where we worked. Work meant freedom. I didn't need to borrow money from my parents. I purchased my own clothes, music and had gas money for my car. One thing 

I recall is that I never said I was stressed or overworked, or even tired. I went to school full-time, participated in extra-curricular activities, and worked.

 Throughout college, I worked and went to school at the same time. The idea of not working to focus on my studies never occurred to me. Work is what you did.

  At some point, a change occurred, but what you did to earn money became important.

  It began in college. I took a job at McDonald's. My car had died, and McDonald's was around the corner from my off-campus apartment, so it was easy to walk to. However, it did seem that then when people asked what I was doing for work, and I mentioned McDonald's, I got strange looks as if I should be doing something else.

  That was when the shift began; the idea of working for status had crept in. But was this just a part of development? For example, in your teens, status meant nothing now. But, as an adult in my early 20's did status become a need that I wished to fill?

  Fast forward to the present day. I have built a twenty-plus-year career in education, and for the past fourteen, I have been a school administrator. My days are spent managing people, putting out fires, ordering supplies, design programs, tracking performance, facilitating meetings, and a host of other duties. Work is stressful, I get tired, I complain internally.

  I have published one book and am about to publish another. In addition, I have been hosting a podcast for the last four years and blog daily. Work and Labor once seemed fun, now seems like a chore. Is it just revisionist history? Am I just missing something?

  The teenager couldn't wait to apply for a job and saw being employed at a steel mill and the dollar store as a conduit to providing him freedom and independence. He is now a middle-aged man who looks forward to three days’ weekends with glee and joy. The question I have for myself and others is this what happened in my relationship with labor? This Labor Day, along with being thankful for all the blessings that come to me through my labor, friends, community, and purpose, Why do I feel like a hole and pieces are missing? What could it be?