Studs Terkel was possessed by the mystique of work — and a fascinating book came as a result.
Whenever I’m searching the aisles of an used book store, I know what I’m looking for. Whether it’s an obscure Sci-fi collection, a compelling political manifesto or a Stephen King book that has somehow slipped from my collection, I know what I like to read.
Sometimes, a title of a book catches my eye and I need to grab it. That was the case when I saw Working: People Talk about What They Do All Day and How They Feel about What They Do by Studs Terkel.
“A work of art. To read it is to hear America talking,” shouts the quote from the Boston Globe embossed on the cover. I always ignore these little blurbs, but this too captured my attention. As a journalist, a rather considerable part of my job is hearing people talk.
Early on, Terkel acknowledges that he learned in the process of this book that conventional interviews were meaningless. From the innumerable conversations and interviews, condensed into snippets of a 100 different people’s day to day operation, he gathered that you can’t learn about someone’s job across a desk or over the phone, but you have to spend some time with them. Terkel states that during his research he was astonished by the “extraordinary dreams of ordinary people,” and that he found that he ascertained an “acknowledgment of man’s being” from one’s daily work.
Dolores Dante, a waitress, says that she is “always on stage,” handling the diplomacy between the cooks, customers and other servers. For 23 years, she has prepped the silverware dutifully each afternoon. “I have to be a waitress — How else can I learn about people?” she asks.
James Carson, a yacht-broker of 48 years, notes sourly that up to 80% of people will take advantage of the buyer-seller relationship. “The biggest danger is when you get to like a person,” he says, adding that he can’t quite roll with the punches like when he was younger.
Eddie Arroyo, a horse jockey, outlines his journey from hot walker, to groomer, to exercise boy, to the track. “The way people had to live…the filth I had to live in, the wages I had to work for, the environment I was with…it’s incredible to believe that people could come out of there and become great athletes…” What has he learned the most? Patience.
Frances Swenson, a hotel switchboard operator, says she has to have a “nice smiling” voice. She has worked 125 hours over the last two weeks. “I’m tired at the end of the day. Say you pick up a thousand calls a day, and these cords are on heavy, and they get pretty heavy at the end of eight hours…I worked with an operator who said she had more strength in her hand than a man because of using her hands all day.” Frances says they don’t get a lot of respect at their job, but there is a lot of camaraderie between the operators.
Tom Patrick, a fireman and former banker, marvels at his uniform in the mirror. He mentions that his co-workers will casually drop racial slurs against a person or a community, but wouldn’t hesitate a second to save someone in a fire. “It’s just paper. It’s not real,” Patrick says about his former job, as if it was a previous life. “Nine to five and it’s s**t. You’re looking at numbers. But I can look back and say, ‘I helped put out a fire. I helped save somebody.’ It shows something I did on earth.”
I don’t think we have any horse jockeys or yacht-brokers in Richmond County (I hope someone can prove me wrong), but I certainly know that we have people with jobs that are worth knowing more about.
What I loved about this book was that it provided an insight, small but significant, into ordinary lives. A person’s geographic location, salacious personal details or their relationships were rarely touched on throughout the course of the novel. It was just a snapshot into everyday, placid life — often unnoticed, but in this book, intensely explored and investigated.
“No matter how bewildering the times, no matter how dissembling the official language, those we call ordinary are aware of a sense of personal worth…in the work they do,” Terkel writes in the introduction.
Too often, a day at work is hum-drum. Nothing out of the ordinary. Another day, another dollar. But that’s because it’s your job, your routine. While monotony may be inevitable for a task that is done eight hours each day for five days of the week, I think it can also be sociologically fascinating for an outsider.
My average day is rather routine, sitting at a desk dutifully getting content ready for the paper, with various interviews, meetings and photography opportunities mixed in. It sounds boring, but there is so much information I gather that makes for interesting stories. Still, I think my average day pales in comparison to my girlfriend, who is a Kindergarten teacher bound to experience more excitement and exhaustion in one day than I get in an entire year. I think jobs are inherently interesting — it is something that an individual commits a rather large percent of their daily routine toward. It may be a course that someone has been set on their entire life.
Maybe you think sitting at your desk all day is tedious. Maybe you get tired from being on your feet and using your hands all day. Maybe you think your work environment is full of the same day-to-day pablum. Maybe you’re not sure your job is the right fit for you. Maybe you have a job that you envisioned for yourself your entire life, or maybe you have a job that you never thought you would be doing.
I can guarantee you it’s probably more interesting than you give yourself credit for. Whether you’ve been doing a job for two hours, two years or half a century, let’s explore the mystique of your work — and maybe get some interesting stories out of it.
Do you, or does someone you know, have an interesting job? Do you know someone with a job that has a story worth telling? What can we learn from your job? Send inquiries to msasser@yourdailyjournal.com or matthew@yourdailyjournal.com and we’d love to arrange an opportunity to learn more about your job.
