My Mother is a Minimum-Wage Worker

I walked into a crowded room on Capitol Hill this week to witness my first congressional press conference. Senator Tom Harkin and Representative George Miller were enthusiastic about their legislation that would raise the federal minimum wage from $7.25 to $10.10.

I’ll be graduating from college in a few months, and I’m looking for my first job. But the issue of minimum wage isn’t something I’ve been thinking about. As a college graduate, I’ve been assuming that I’ll be able to find a job that pays well, despite the shaky economy. Amie Crawford, a college graduate and fast-food worker from Chicago stood at the podium and described what it’s like to work hard prepping food for the public but not have enough money to buy food for herself. I was stunned. Amie’s story made me wonder about the millions of other hard-working women who cut back on food, drop their health insurance, and go without child care in order to get by on a minimum wage salary. And I thought about their kids who might go to bed hungry.

As I was leaving the press conference it suddenly hit me: my mom was a minimum-wage worker when I was growing up in Sydney, Australia—where the current minimum wage is $15.96—equivalent to $16.39 in U.S. dollars and more than twice the U.S. minimum wage.  My mom cleaned offices. Sometimes my sister and I tagged along at night with her. I would skip down dark hallways and imagine being an office worker wearing high heels. My mom and I used to play a game called “helping mom so we can go home earlier.” It sounds like a downright chore now but as a kid these offices were my favorite playground. I’d scamper around to find paper and empty bottles to recycle. My mom would give me a quick eye signal from an office across the hall to turn the huge vacuum cleaner on or off. Sometimes I’d abandon my post and search for the perfect hiding space with my little sister. Other times, I’d stand on top of the swirling discs that polished the floors and pretend that I was surfing. After work, my mom would buy my sister and me ice cream treats and we’d head home together.

I never went to bed hungry. I can’t imagine what that would be like. My mom worked hard every day but she never struggled to put food on the table for my three siblings and me. She was able to make a comfortable living and provide for our family because the minimum wage in Australia kept pace with the cost of living.

I want the children of minimum-wage workers in the United States today to have the security and support that I felt as a child.