Before I begin, I would like to extend an apology to the readers, as I will most likely make a few references to fecal matter; it is totally necessary.
I held the best and worst job ever this past summer working as a laborer at the Bay Park Sewage Treatment Plant of Nassau County. Working eight-hour days, five days a week, making 12 dollars an hour, I was unionized. What more could I ask for?
Beyond making the best money of my teenage life, having fun manning jackhammers and fire hoses, I was slowly but surely introduced to some of the most miserable and uncooperative people I have ever met.
When it comes to work like this, Mike Rowe doing it even once on Dirty Jobs couldn't exemplify the horror of doing it day in and day out.
I merely assumed the people who worked there must have taken a wrong turn in life; these were the kind of people who weren't able to make anything more of themselves besides handling millions of gallons of biological waste.
In my three months of being employed at "the plant," I found myself beginning to look at these people differently. The daily grind of a job that was most likely never going to see the light of a promotion caused these ordinary everyday people to turn bitter and willing to screw anyone over when they had the chance.
For most, this job was hell on earth.
Those who would brown-nose worked their way up the laddtter rather quickly. Those who put in an honest day's work would receive nothing-just a pat on the back and recognition of a "good job."
Regardless of how these people found their way to this dead-end job, there was a bigger problem that preyed heavily on my mind. These people weren't getting nearly enough credit and respect for doing the kind of job most would never dream of doing, or even knew existed.
Beyond the plant's green- painted gates, which was manned by a gentleman who had put in 25 years and still wasn't making any more money than I was, there were men performing a task necessary to help keep civilization running - you would think people would have more respect for that.
Sure, working in at this job provided a learning experience, as I had never thought twice about where "it" goes once it leaves the safety and comfort of a toilet. The more most valuable lesson I learned is that there is more worth in those who do the dirty work than meets the eye, no matter how they got there.
When people go to college, they're supposed to come out with a degree, go out into the workforce, and be a positive contributor to society, right? Well, does this mean that these people who decided not to go to college, or perhaps barely even graduated high school are unworthy of our capitalistic society?
The general public couldn't function properly if there were no way of disposingto dispose of waste. These people are the real contributors to society.
Looking down on these people for doing a job that requires very little mental capacity is unwarranted.
The plain fact is that there is always a job to be done - and somebody has to do it.
Once the work day was done at 3:30 p.m., these "less fortunate" people would return to their everyday lives, some of whom would be returning to a warm home and a family with a spouse, two kids, and a dog named Jack.
Do people only get recognized if they have a job that requires a collared shirt and the perfect tie everyday?
If it weren't for people doing the dirty jobs, our quality of life would decrease severely. Just because these people aren't looking to rise to the ranks of Donald Trump one day, does this mean they aren't pursuing the "American dream?"
I don't think that's true.
This country was built on work ethic. When did manual labor lose its appeal and importance?
People out there have permanently soiled their hands and have overextended their bodies for the sake of a living. In the case of the treatment plant, people are performing a job so others can live cleaner lives.
Photo: Courtesy of Laron Fomby
