I'm a freelance artist/web designer, and over the years since I left college while growing the business, I've faced times where I needed p/t and f/t jobs to make ends meet.
A few years ago I took a contract job in a refinery just outside of Toronto that was being permanently closed down, with only half a dozen keeping their jobs (being relocated across the country to Alberta) and the other several hundred left to fend for themselves. I spent 8 months with extremely bitter, angry people who for the most part were clueless about what they were facing.
At first, I can't say I fit in very well among the crew. At the time I was there, here in Canada the Liberal government was threatened to be toppled, so politics was on the minds of a lot of people and set up some uncomfortable situations and conversations. While the social and economic beliefs of everyone there varied about as much as they do in the rest of the world, politically only a few had beliefs other than "they're all crooks". They argued issues, but did not put much weight behind the value of any particular candidate.
I will never forget these people. Even though some of them had some beliefs that were wayyyy out there, I eventually formed enough of a bond with them to go from being extremely happy to make some money on the side to being absolutely crushed by what was happening. There was the 60-something Scotsman who believed the world was going to end soon and talked about Freemasons and the Illuminati and stayed up on night shifts listening to Art Bell, but was otherwise socially progressive and helpful. There was the entertaining Elvis wannabe whose best friends in the refinery were black, yet once referred to Jamaican patties as "nigger pie".
There was the hardcore conservative who believed that freedom from taxation was infinitely more important than any social freedom. There's the Pakistani immigrant who was extremely well respected for his hard work ethic, but still made fun of behind his back for well... being the Pakistani. And then there were of course the stereotypical working class, the gruff talking hairy guys who smoke and put nudie pics in their lockers and look forward to hockey, football and beer.
And then there was my dad.
He was one of the few to keep a job with the company, being moved to Edmonton. He had to leave my family behind in Ontario for several months while he got started, and my mother had to eventually leave us and her friends behind, which she has never gotten over.
I'll return to the obvious bitterness from our side later.
The people I worked with who have been there 20-30 years got their jobs at a time when you didn't have to necessarily have the same education and experience you need to get a high paying position like that now. There was one person there, the most clueless about his situation, who once told us that we were all being babies and could get jobs anywhere. I asked him what he was going to do then, and he said he would get a job at Chapter's (the bookstore chain equivalent to Borders in the US).
I asked him "You can afford that?"
He said "Yeah, they pay like 25 bucks an hour, right?"
Seriously. That is what he said
"No, its more like $8.50, $9 there, tops"
The look on his face sank like a ton of bricks. It was like I pulled out his spine. He never acted the same again after that. He became the angriest example, mean to everyone, extremely bitter, shouting and swearing and neglecting his job, telling off bosses and further burning his bridges.
At this refinery I watched grown people cry. On night shifts I would go on my rounds and find people sitting humped over somewhere alone with tears running down their faces. The full gamut of grief over their futures was very evident, very bitter. I became bitter by proxy, just being around them 45-50 hours a week was a lot to handle. None of these people were going to find a job that pays like they were expecting locally.
A few were able to move out West, like my dad. Some had to move even further north to Fort McMurray, a small town almost near the Northwest Territories, quite a change from the Toronto area. Alberta itself is far different from Ontario. The workers in Alberta were not to fond of having to bring in any Ontario workers. My dad faced harrassment, hazing, and threats from his new workers, and hasn't been the same person since moving there. He's treated like I expect many immigrants in the US are, with suspicion - like an outsider, there to replace them. Luckily he's near retirement age and won't have to put up with it much longer.
I've never stopped being bitter. If any of you out there are thinking Obama was wrong to make his comments, you haven't worked in places like this refinery, with people like I've known. I don't even know how or if to put blame on anyone, but I'm still angry as all get out. Many of these peoples wives left them rather than move out West with them. I'm bitter because since they had to move to make a living I've seen my family only a couple times in the last 4 years. I'm bitter that I didn't get to see my family pet before they put it down. I'm bitter that its still going to be a while before they're around again, that my mother is seperated from the friends here to give her strength, that my dad is taking medication he doesnt need to deal with the stress of his co-workers and a job he hates out west.
It isnt a constant anger. We have to laugh and have hope and get through the day. There is also optimism. But to hear people like John McCain and Hillary Clinton say it is elitist to use a word like "bitter" infuriates me and angers me in ways you can't imagine. Even though I live in a country where gays can be married, where progressives get elected, where our politicians have to yell at each other in parliament, where we have health care, I hate that our politicians couldn't inspire water to stay wet, I hate that I still have to hold my nose and vote, I hate the status quo, things could always be better and we don't have to have politicians so stripped of integrity that they can't speak the truth about the hardships actual people face. I'm bitter that my prime minister wants to emulate the failed policies of George W Bush. I'm angry that global warming and other world issues remain unaddressed at this crucial moment. I'm depressed of the fact I learned the other day that our Internet servers are so overcooked that one hour of internet time leaves the same carbon footprint of driving around in an SUV for an hour.
I'm bitter, frustrated, and I'm not even broke. We're all bitter. It doesn't matter that I'm here across the border, many of the problems and attitudes are exactly the same. This underlying bitterness is universal and taps into the very heart of wanting the change that Obama is promising, this underlying frustration is the heart of what makes Al Gore do what he does.
It may seem that bitterness and hope are mutually exclusive, but the reality is that this change cannot occur without tapping into the frustration of the very people who are bitter.
The last time I saw my dad, we went for a drive. The first place he wanted to go was to the refinery, what remains of it. Most of it has been torn down and shipped away to Pakistan. It was the only time I can recall ever seeing him cry.