You may have come across Maid: Hard Work, Low Pay, and a Mother’s Will to Survive recently in a bookstore or referenced in the media. It’s a book by Stephanie Land, a first-person account of her experience as a poor single mother trying to get by on manual labor and government assistance. Maid has been well-received and with good cause. It’s well-written and disciplined, truly making the hardship of the working poor clear. Land does not try to try to speak for all in poverty, to explain public policy, or to argue for political change. Instead, she sticks to what she knows: her life and her struggles, and especially her observations trying to raise a daughter while making a living cleaning the homes of the more fortunate.
Land grew up in the Pacific northwest, not in poverty but without deep pockets. She, like many Americans, was in a family that managed paycheck to paycheck and lacked robust support structures. She worked a variety of jobs after high school, figuring that at one point or another, she would go to college and become a writer. An unplanned pregnancy in her late 20s forced a host of responsibilities and changes. The father of her child was abusive. With no other immediate source of income, Land quickly found herself scrambling for public assistance. She scrounged for jobs and money, too, and found semi-stable work at minimum wage cleaning houses. She did what people do – one way or another she found ways to provide for her daughter and build a family.
The chronicle of Land’s life – as a mom, as a cleaner, and as a member of the working poor – is the fuel for Maid. We learn about the day-to-day challenges, the hour-by-hour difficulties, and the many ways that the strictures of being poor combine to constrain the very possibilities of long-term planning or even dreams. Land’s narrative is excellent explaining all of this, unapologetically and with clarity and wisdom. It’s called grinding poverty for good reason; it can grind the hope and health out of those that wrestle with it on a daily basis.
The contrasts and similarities between Land’s life and the lives of the people whose home she cleans, and between her small, uncomfortable and even dangerous apartments and their houses, hammers home the unfairness of it all. Empathy, compassion, smarts and human decency do correlate with the size of one’s home or bank account. We may know this already, but Maid makes it explicit. “Fortunate” takes on new meaning when considered in the context of the narrative.
There’s also a thread of snooping to the book: the houses, the homes, the guesses that she makes about the people who live in them.. Land is a good writer. She describes what she sees and what she imagines in detail – and it is interesting.
With a little stability and a slightly older daughter, Land was able to take a few classes at a local community college. PELL covered her tuition and books. The community college work helped propel her to the University of Montana, Missoula, where she earned a baccalaureate in creative writing. And eventually, with scholarships, loans, student debt and more work, Land was able to write this very good book. More books and articles, I am sure, are on the way.
For those of us in education, Land’s perspective is informative – particularly when we think about the needs, challenges, and strengths that adult students can bring to our classrooms. Indirectly, Land’s story also highlights the extraordinary importance community colleges can play in helping people redirect their lives. It does not happen automatically or easily, though. Welcoming all students – being truly inclusive – and helping each student find their way is a mission that all public community colleges share. Stephanie Land’s Maid reminds us that we have a great obligation in fulfilling that mission.
David Potash