“A pretty high energy day”
for employees. That’s how a Walmart executive described Thanksgiving
after the corporation announced that this year’s “Black Friday” would
begin on Thursday evening, leaving many of its workers (known as
“associates”) unable to spend the holiday with family or friends.
Walmart’s
wages and employment practices can rightfully be described as
“Dickensian.” What, we wondered, would the Victorian author make of this
latest development?
It was the night
before Thanksgiving. Walmart’s top brass had assembled in the executive
boardroom for a last celebration before heading home to their families.
Amidst the din of laughter and chatter, nobody noticed the thin figure
silhouetted in their doorway.
“I am a Walmart Associate,” the figure finally called out, “and I beg your pardon for the intrusion.”
The revelers stared in amazement. “A Happy Thanksgiving to you all!” added the shadowy Associate.
“Happy Thanksgiving? Happy Thanksgiving?!?” came an answering voice from inside the boardroom. “What right have you to be happy? Why would you be be happy? You’re poor.”
The stranger’s request.
“Why are you even here?” the shadowy figure was asked.
“I’ve come to
request better wages and working conditions,” came the reply. The
shocked silence was finally broken by the Chairman of the Board, one Mr.
Rob Walton.
“Are there no food stamps?” Walton asked.
The figure stood silently.
“And housing subsidies for the poor?” he demanded. “Are they still in operation?”
The silhouette nodded its head.
“Medicaid is still in full vigor, then?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh! I was
afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop
these government programs in their useful course,” said the Chairman.
“I’m very glad to hear it.”
A lesson in gratitude.
“I was hoping
you would behave more wisely and kindly this holiday season,” the figure
said. “You, sirs and madams, run the largest corporation in the nation,
employing more than two million souls. Your behavior shapes the entire
labor market, for good or for bad — “
The figure stood, silent.
“And we did something for our employees. We held a food drive for you, so our customers could give you their charity while giving us our profits!”
“What is Thanksgiving, anyway?” another executive ruminated. “A time to be grateful for all that this land has given — “
” — to us!” another injected to general merriment.
“Do you understand, Associate?” said the first executive. “We will be thankful tomorrow. But you have nothing to be thankful for, therefore you have no reason to spend Thanksgiving with your family.”
The corporation’s humbug.
“You know what I
said to a reporter?” said an executive who sounded like a salesman. “I
said ‘Walmart associates are really excited to work that day.’ I really said that.”
“Good one!” another executive replied.
“I even said,” he added, “that employees who work on Thanksgiving will get 25 percent off on any single item they purchase.”
“As if our employees could afford anything valuable!”
“You out there!” a voice summoned imperiously. “Associate! Are you going to buy something expensive with your discount? A flat-screen TV, perhaps?”
“Food, sir,” the figure responded. “and barely enough for that.”
“Well, then,” came the answer, “you’ll have to learn to economize.”
“Economize?” the figure said gravely. “Do you believe in ‘family values’?” The assembled executives nodded.Then come, good people. Come, and see how your Associates’ families must spend the holiday!”
The ghost of Thanksgiving present.
The boardroom
was suddenly shrouded in darkness. The executives and Board members
found themselves looking in at a walk-in kitchen and dining area. The
biting winds of a Chicago snowstorm slipped through the worn insulation
around the apartment’s single window.
“Your mother and daddy will be home later,” a grandmother said to a crying child, “when the late shift ends.”
“I’m worried about their health,” the older woman said to herself. The figure turned to the people in the boardroom.
“Minimum-wage workers experience high levels of stress,” said the Associate, “especially when they’re also the parents of small children.”
An older child, a
girl, walked into the room. “Where’s the turkey?” she asked. Her face
fell at the sadness in the old woman’s eyes. “No turkey again this
year,” she said with a sigh. “Will we at least have enough to eat
tonight?”
“I hope so,” said the older woman, “if we’re careful.”
All around the great oak table, the executives hung their heads.
Our story concludes.
“So,” said the
shadowy Associate, “can I count on all of you to have a change of heart,
pay us a living wage, and give us back our holidays with our families?”
There was a
moment of silence in the darkened boardroom. Then a voice rang out — it
might have been the salesman, or the Chairman, or the CEO — and answered
in a booming voice.
“Nah,” he said.
“I don’t think so,” another voice said.
“Stop bringing us down,” someone else chimed in. “We have parties to attend.”
The figure shook its head in disbelief. “You’re supposed to become somber,” it said, “and have a change of heart.”
“No way,” said the executives and Board members.
“But it worked for Scrooge.”
“Scrooge!” scoffed the CEO. ”We’re more bottom-line driven than that sentimental old softie. And he had to look his employees in the eye. We don’t… not usually.”
“Well, if all
this human suffering doesn’t make you somber,” said the silhouette in
the doorway, “maybe this will.” The silhouetted figure drew itself up to
a full and commanding height.
A gasp arose in
the boardroom as the figure vanished into the November night, its final
words lingering in the crisp boardroom air:
“Look for us at Friday’s demonstrations. It’s going to be a pretty high energy day for us.”
(For more information on Walmart workers, see OURWalmart.org. Go here to find a Black Friday demonstration near you.)