Marilyn Jackson

Laborer

I’ve been through so many changes. I was born in 1954, grew up in Seattle. There was the Panther Party, the Free Breakfast Program, everything was happening. In this day and age no one even wants to stop and give you the time of day, let alone ask you, “Are you hungry?” “Do you have a place to stay?”

I’m working as a day laborer cleaning up the Silver Legacy before it’s turned over to the owners. I found out about this program called Goals Unlimited from a friend who went through it last year. He had all these construction clothes on and I said, “Dang, Bernard, I need a job!” He said, “Here, this lady will get you in construction.” I thought, “Yeah sure,” you always hear something. Then when it comes down to it you can’t really do it for some reason. Either your income’s too high or too low, or the class is full.

I called Jackie and she said, “Yeah, you can come to class.” In my class there were young women, older men, a white guy. Jackie told us how to get along on the job, conflict resolution. What causes people to lose their jobs is mostly their inability to get along with others or their attendance. She even showed us how to order healthy food at a fast food restaurant to make fuel so that we can go to a job and be productive.

We’re paid seven dollars an hour. The people at Goals Unlimited don’t think it’s possible to live minimum wage, so they pay us what they think is right.

I came down to Reno from Seattle and worked cocktailing for years. There was a lot of sexual harassment. That was one of the reasons I quit. The girls that had the best stations and the early outs and Fourth of July off were the ones that were sleeping with the boss. I couldn’t handle it.

I’m wondering where we came from and how far we got. Maybe it’s a fortyish thing—I’m getting kind of distressed, because it doesn’t seem like people care about other people. Even my daughter doesn’t have that sense of community and putting something back. She tells me, “Mama, this is the 1990s.” What does that mean? The more things change the more they stay the same. People still hungry, coming out of abusive situations, kids ain’t getting good medical care.

The past month, I’ve been staying at the Committee to Aid Abused Women. I made some cool friends there, like my counselor, Gina, who is a Shoshone woman. There’s other women you can talk to and there’s kids. We’ve done art, gone to lectures. This week I’m moving into my own apartment. Starting all over again is hard, but it’s worth it.

My dreams are—I’d like to have a car that’s not almost as old as my daughter, with a warranty. I want a piece of property! And a pet. Someone glad to see you when you hit the door, who thinks you’re wonderful and says, “Hey, I missed you today.”