Middle of Everywhere - Mary Bray Pipher [44]
Many Nebraska refugees work in meatpacking plants. People fall down on the bloody floors. Knives slip while slicing meat. Carcasses hit workers when they are not watching. Many of these plants were built for brawny Swedes and Germans, and most of the workers now are smaller people, Mexican, Laotian, and Vietnamese, who are the wrong size for the equipment. Lack of orientation, long hours, language problems, and pressure to work fester increase the danger:
Rules at many of these plants are draconian—no breaks, no talking to others, and no calling in sick. Most do not complain for fear of losing their jobs and/or their work permits. Some workers get sick from dehydration because they don't have time to drink water or because they are afraid to drink for fear they might need to use a bathroom. Injury rates in our packing plants are as high as 50 percent. Some places have an injury rate of 80 percent for workers the first year on the job.
Educated newcomers suffer the most from their drop in status. A Romanian pediatrician works stuffing envelopes. A director of a hospital from Hungary drives a taxicab. A Nuba woman who was a great leader of her people in the Sudan now sorts mail. A judge from Haiti works as a janitor. Lawyers become doormen; teachers assemble computer boards or sell fast food. A distinguished writer fries doughnuts for a fast-food chain. He can speak no English and is treated in a demeaning way by some staff and customers.
Many people come from places where one person could work outside the home and support the family. In America, all the adults must work just to pay the rent and buy groceries. Women from traditional cultures hate to leave their children and move into the labor market, and when they must do this, they feel impoverished indeed.
But status issues are complex. Without money, people have limited control of their lives. And while money doesn't buy happiness, neither does poverty. As a Latino man told me, "Nobody listens to a poor man." Work outside the home is not just the source of income; it is the source of dignity. Without dignity, people are powerless.
Still, in the rather dismal scene, there are points of light. A local man serves as a cultural broker by running an employment service that connects refugees with jobs. His staff speaks many languages and they know the bus routes and who works where. Dave tells companies, "I can get you workers, but I expect them to be treated well and given benefits and good wages."
Dave acts as an intermediary for people who cannot do interviews and who don't have cars or money for required work uniforms. He knows which factories use up their workers and which offer good benefits, including dental care and education. He encourages workers to speak English whenever they can and to not just talk to people from their homeland. He tells workers, "Ask questions; ask your supervisor if you're doing a good job. Ask if there is more you can do."
Dave told me of one woman from the Ukraine who called him up after she got a job and said, "Tell my boss he pays me too much. My English not so good. I don't deserve seven dollars an hour."
Thanks to people like Dave, we have a kinder, gender employment scene than we would otherwise. He's a big-hearted guy who is on a mission to find work for desperate people. He has a sense for what refugees have been through and are going through but he also understands the very practical needs of employers. When my refugee friends are in trouble with work they call and ask, "Will you talk to Dave?"
Health Care
In our country health care is wonderful for the people who have access to our modern medical system. However, access is difficult for people without cars, money, or English. Services are available only during hours when refugees must be in factories. Doctors often schedule