When Hllary uttered the words, “you called her Miss Housekeeping,” a wave of emotions overcame me. First was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach because of the indecency of this sexist ethnic slur. Then anger, followed by the joy of knowing that this was going to be nuclear. My pupils probably grew larger when I immediately thought of how this would play on Calle Ocho or on the Strip in Vegas. Then I thought of Uncle Leon.
Leon was part of my extended family, my aunt’s husband’s brother. He was a New Dealer, a lawyer, the guy who signed off on the language that became Pittsburgh’s first smoke control law, and, eventually, the Director of the Sanitary Authority — the agency that handled sewage and water treatment. When I graduated high school and was preparing to enter college, I was eligible for a summer job at the Sanitary Authority.
My first job was on a truck, going from pumping station to pumping station. Our crew of three would change the oil and filters in the air pumps, cut the grass and police the area around the pumping station and — after rainstorms — we would put on hip boots and rubber suits and go down into the flooded stations and use aluminum rakes and shovels to clear logs, rags, and other waste materials off the aluminum grates. It didn’t happen all that often, but when the stations flooded, we would be wading waist deep in sewage and human waste.
Other kids with summer jobs worked in the office, or in the gardens, but half of us worked on the trucks. I really enjoyed working with the guys on Truck 23, and — to this day — I am friends with the my colleague Henry’s grandson. My first summer, I actually liked the job.
At Thanksgiving, I came back from college and stopped by Uncle Leon’s. I told him that I enjoyed working with Henry and Ray on Truck 23, and asked him if he had made the decision to put me on the truck rather than assign me to some other job. He nodded and gave me a response that changed my life.
First he mentioned that he gave my the dirty job so that nobody would say that Leon the boss gave his nephew a no-work cushy job. And then he shook my world.
“I put you on that truck so you could see what some people have do to feed their families. And, once you’ve worked in sewage, you will never, ever look down at anyone else doing an honest day’s work.”
I understood immediately when he meant, and that wisdom was the greatest gift he ever gave me. I worked the next three summers on Truck 23, and have told this story countless times. It’s a part of me.
When Trump spoke of Miss Housekeeping, he disparaged people who do honest, difficult work for low wages so they can feed their families. These are the people who take the early bus or carpool to work. They often juggle multiple jobs and child care. These are the people who keep his hospitality empire afloat. Without them, it would collapse. And, by the way, these struggling people may actually pay more federal income tax than he does.
These are the very people my Uncle Leon was talking about fifty years ago.
Add to that the ethnic slur, and it goes nuclear. Hundreds of thousands of Latinas who have come to this country have worked in housekeeping in hotels. It is often their first job here, part of their immigrant experience. They’ve worked hard, for low pay, hoping for a better life for their children. Marco Rubio’s mother worked in housekeeping. He bragged on her humble beginnings during his Presidential run, but I haven’t seen any response from him to Trump’s insult. Not yet.
But I have seen how the response to the “Miss Housekeeping” comment has been growing, from a gasp, to a roar, and now perhaps to a hurricane. I can’t imagine any Miami Cuban who didn’t take some personal umbarage — even those rock-ribbed Republicans among them. This hits home. In battleground states like Florida and Nevada, there is no question this will drive up the Hispanic vote and hurt Trump dearly. It could cost him at least two states.
As I watch the storm intensify, it is gratifying to see Alicia Machado getting her revenge, and serving it cold. There will be plenty more. Trump built much of his empire on the backs of immigrants, many of them housekeepers. And now, they will have their say. It’s going to be an unwelcome wake-up call for those Republicans who thought they could hide Trump’s past. And, speaking of wake-up call, let me close by borrowing and adapting a thought from the poet Countee Cullen….
He even thinks that up in heaven
His class lies late and snores
While Latina cherubs rise at seven
To do celestial chores.
