Making minimum wage, paying maximum rent

            While the resource boom has been lifting Saskatchewan out of obscurity these past few years, there are some negative consequences.  The sudden increase in population, for example, is putting immense pressure on housing.  This must make it extremely difficult for those who can’t afford to buy a home.

            Just five years ago we rented a two-bedroom apartment in Regina for $600 a month.  We were fortunate to leave the rental market and buy a home at the time we did, because prices took off shortly after.  From 2006 to 2010, rents have risen by 43%.  A two-bedroom apartment now costs around $1,000 a month.  Renting a house will cost at least $1,500. 

            This is a sad reality for the working poor, whose wages have not increased accordingly. 

            I read an interesting book last month about a journalist who tried to live off of jobs paying close to minimum wage in the U.S.  This was in 1999, back when the economy was booming and jobs were plentiful.  She had everything going for her – she was intelligent, healthy and white.  She allowed herself to keep her car, but all living costs had to be covered by her working wage which was typically around $7 per hour.

            While the low-wage jobs themselves were physically and emotionally taxing (in one case, forcing her to quit due to burn-out), finding affordable accommodation posed the biggest challenge.

            Particularly in states like Minnesota where the economy was red-hot, she found herself either in cheap motels or apartments in shady neighbourhoods where her safety was compromised.  While finding work in this labour market was easy, it wasn’t always easy to find a location that was close enough to keep her gas costs down (back when gas was half the price it is today). 

            Many low-wage earners, she found, live in squalid conditions (some live in their vehicles or on friends’ couches).  Many can’t even afford the food calories necessary to sustain them, given the physical nature of their work.  Then there was the fear of management whose primary role, so it seemed, was to destroy any remaining sense of worth these low-wage employees had.  In this way, the author concluded, management could maintain control and prevent any organized backlash.

            We might like to think this is another example of American injustice that can only occur south of the border, but there are a number of similarities to Saskatchewan today.  We’re experiencing an extremely low vacancy rate (Regina has one of the lowest vacancy rates in the country at 0.6%), peak housing prices, an affordable housing shortage, and a minimum wage that, when adjusted for inflation, is about the same as $7/hr in 1999.

For those who are stuck in minimum wage jobs, rental costs can eat up over 60% of one’s income.  Even at a $15/hr job, rental costs would devour almost half of after-tax income.  That’s not leaving much to live on, especially if you’re a single parent.

I would hope Canadian employers treat their minimum wage employees with a little more respect than in the book I read, but it’s hard for me to judge as someone who spent his minimum wage years working for a small-town newspaper (actually, I got paid $6.25 an hour!).  But I suspect there’s a general lack of respect for minimum wage workers, most of whom work in the service industry.

During my wife’s brief work experience at Tim Horton’s, she found that management cared about two things: employees taking discounted donuts home and employees accepting tips (a no-no at Tim’s, because minimum wage is clearly sufficient).  She also found that customers our age, in their thirties and forties, tend to show the least respect toward their servers (can’t even blame the baby boomers!)

While this kind of work environment may be brushed off by a teenager working his/her first job, it’s not a pleasant feeling for immigrants who were respected professionals in their home countries or for those who simply don’t have the education or skills to get better paying jobs.  Many of the workers working with my wife were single mothers.

My former boss, who held a rather high-profile position in our province, had the habit of tipping employees working at fast food restaurants.  It wasn’t a bad idea.

Those that get paid the least often work the hardest. Too often we inadvertently snub those in the service industry, those who deserve more respect and much more pay.

Good Book: “Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America” by Barbara Ehrenreich http://www.barbaraehrenreich.com/nickelanddimed.htm

Reaping the resource rewards

             I was pleasantly surprised when I found out that Regina ranks number five on the list of best places to live in Canada. http://www.moneysense.ca/2012/03/20/canadas-best-places-to-live-2012/

            Laugh, you might, but one can’t argue with the stats.  Low unemployment, a growing population, and much improved weather (believe it, it’s true!) make Regina the place to be.  It outranks crime-ridden Victoria (ranked 35^th), unaffordable Vancouver (56^th), smog-filled Chilliwack (147^th), and that otherwise lovely city of bridges, Saskatoon (30^th).

            I admit, it took me a while to claim Regina as my home city.  I had spent most of my life living in the Greater Saskatoon Area (this includes the bustling suburb of Laird).  Saskatonians are a bit snobbish, you see, turning their noses up at that low-lying government city.  I’m not sure what led to this superiority complex, but I think it all goes back to the Bessborough, that handsomely designed hotel by the river.  Without it, Saskatoon would have nothing to put on its postcards.

            Regina, on the other hand, has bureaucrats and politicians, most notably represented by our handsome Legislative Building.  Interestingly, Canada’s biggest government town, Ottawa, ranks as the best place to live in Canada.  I wish I could make a connection between government and the good life, but I cannot.

            I find it interesting that Saskatchewan, which used to bleed good (and some bad) people to Alberta and BC, is now actually leading the country in growth.  We hit a new high of 1,063,535 people last year, as duly noted in our government’s budget speech.  Only in Saskatchewan do we proudly announce our population statistics in budget speeches.

            But this much is true, after being the butt of all kinds of jokes, Saskatchewan is now getting some recognition.  It’s becoming the land of opportunity – the land of milk and honey, or oil and fertilizer, if you will.

            It’s amazing what $100-a-barrel oil can do for a province.  Only ten years ago, oil was priced at $15 a barrel.  The price of energy has increased seven-fold.  It’s no wonder the province is rolling in dough. 

While much of Canada faces austerity budgets, with political leaders having to make the most difficult decisions, Saskatchewan’s government trims a little here and there while quietly admitting a 5% increase in resource revenues.  It’s tough to be a conservative with such an embarrassment of riches.

            And while we like to continually compare ourselves to our no-PST neighbours, we still have the second lowest tax rates in the country, our housing is affordable compared to the rest of Canada, our union workers are well paid (nurses top out at $90K, teachers at $80K, bureaucrats top out at… let's just say they get paid OK), and there are Help Wanted signs on every retail store in the province.

            The resource boom has been good indeed.  So good that even the weather appears to be taking a turn for the better.

Scrap the Prozac, get a boarder

             This is the first time I’ve participated in Lent by abstaining from something.  For my first year, I’ve given up two things.  The first is desserts, most notably anything with chocolate.  I do enjoy my daily intake of chocolate, so it represents an actual sacrifice (albeit small compared to abstaining from meat or, even worse, coffee!)

            The whole point, of course, is to respond to the sacrifice Christ has made for us.  For those of us who believe, Lent can become that much more meaningful if we also devote ourselves to Christ’s greater purpose in our lives.

            To this effect, the second thing I’ve given up is much more meaningful – that being privacy.  You see, we’ve got some boarders this month (not hoarders, boarders).

            Those who know me understand that I like my own space.  I get rattled when there are too many people in a room.  Hence my avoidance of bars, crowded shopping malls and Superstore.

            So when my wife proposed that a Ukrainian family move in with us for a month, I was a little hesitant.  We had already been sharing space with a Japanese student for the last year, which has worked out quite well, but I do have limits.

            Sensing my hesitancy, Inna subtly reminded me that I had better give more than lip service to my beliefs as a church-going Mennonite.  It was a good reminder!

            And I must say, as much as it can be viewed as a sacrifice to share living quarters with another family, there are also benefits.  New relationships are developed and a small sense of community forms.  And I’m reminded of the importance of sharing, even as an adult.  It’s not just a lesson for my four-year-old.

            What we are doing for a month, though, is quite insignificant when compared to what another couple we know have done their entire lives. 

            This couple, to my knowledge, has never been without a boarder in their home.  They have a master list of all their boarders over time, and the count likely exceeds one hundred.  Throughout their lives, at least one person has always been sharing their living space.

            I was fortunate to be able to live with this couple for my first summer job in Regina.  It was a bachelor’s dream.  Not only did I have meals supplied daily, but in the last two weeks, I was supplied with my wife-to-be.  That was a bonus.  If it hadn’t been for this couple’s generosity, I could still be living a lonely, futile existence (not that there’s anything wrong with the single life!)

            It was their approach to generous living that inspired us to take on a boarder ourselves.  Once we had our own house, we had the opportunity to host a student from Ukraine.  Little did we know that this would result in yet another Froese romance and one more Ukrainian wedding.  Seeing the opportunity, my brother swept in quite quickly.

              So we’re on to our third boarder now, and our first family.  Things are getting interesting.  But I suspect it’s always better to have an interesting life than an uninteresting one.

            For all my issues with having my own space, it’s a pertinent reminder that many people in our society struggle with loneliness and isolation.  The sense of community that once existed in North America is becoming less common.  Unless you live in a small town where everyone knows everyone, people now live fairly anonymously.  It’s likely contributed to many social/psychological ills, including increased rates of depression.  Deductive reasoning would suggest that having more people around reduces your chances of psychological illness.

            It’s one of the untold benefits of sharing your home.

That being said, I still have limits.

Don’t cry: good times here to stay

            Remember that doomsday report I posted a couple months back?  Yah, scratch that.  Upon further reflection, it was probably a little too negative.   I was succumbing to my university days when I couldn’t get enough bad news – when I seemed to delight in the fact that the world would soon be ending.

            Don’t get me wrong – I still think the world is going to end.  It’s just a matter of when, and that may not be for a long, long time.  And no matter what the Mayan calendar may say, I don’t think it’ll be in 2012 (but never say never!)

            A book I just read suggests that no matter how good we have it, humans tend to find something to fret about.  And so, in this golden age of abundance, we still worry, complain, and fall into bouts of depression.  It’s what Gregg Easterbrook calls The Prosperity Paradox.  While life for people in the so-called developed world has steadily gotten better over the last century, we are still no better at realizing happiness.

            And things are better, as much as people like to talk of the good ol’ days.  Those good ol’ days, in many cases, were not so good.  I’m sure the days before electricity came to rural Saskatchewan were okay, but I think most farmers would say electric lighting and satellite TV are still preferred over the days when one had to use an outhouse in -30 degree weather.

            Many, many things have improved over the last 50 years.  Income levels have improved dramatically.  I recently attended a lecture by a university economics professor who indicated that the level of income in Saskatchewan alone has increased by 1% per year in the 1990s and by 1.6% per year over the last 10 years, discounting the impact of inflation.  That’s a 25% increase in real income in only 20 years.  Of course it may not feel like it’s much because the average worker is only realizing a 1% increase per year – it’s over the long haul that you begin to realize how much more you had than your parents and especially grandparents.

            Levels of equality have also improved.  The income gap between non-whites and whites has shown the greatest improvement over the last 50 years, but the gap between the poor and rich has also been reduced.  As much as the ludicrous pay of CEOs has negated the reduction of this gap, the poor are still less poor than they were 50 years ago in real dollar terms, and are closer in health outcomes to the rich than they have ever been.  The wealthy in England tended to live 17 years longer, on average, than a poor peasant one hundred years ago, but now only live two years longer (unless of course you’re Queen Elizabeth - then you may never die).

            Equality as it pertains to race, gender and class has improved in spades, along with democratic reforms across the globe (the Arab Spring is a dramatic example of this).

            My point is not for us to gloat that we live in this glorious golden age, but to at least recognize that we have it pretty good.  Certainly, when we compare ourselves to the squalor facing approximately half of the earth’s population, we can appreciate that.

            The interesting point, which Easterbrook explores, is that we simply aren’t any happier for it.  While you would expect North Americans to be exploding with joy over our new-found largesse, we are no happier and ever more depressed than fifty years ago.

            Of course there are many reasons for this.  Notably, increasing the amount of stuff you have does not make you any happier.  Researchers have found that people can be made considerably happier by making up to $10,000 per year, but after this point, the returns on happiness are marginal.  Now while this may seem like a very low amount compared to our current incomes, it’s important to note that a good portion of the world lives on a dollar a day, which equates to only $365 per year.  Increasing this amount to $10,000 amounts to a 27-fold increase.  A 27-fold increase in income would make me plenty happy!  (For the first little while anyway.) 

I also know some people in Ukraine who make less than $10,000 per year, but still have enough to live fairly well (without a car, of course).  At the same time, they are more appreciative (and happier) than most North Americans.

            A key to happiness, as Easterbrook notes, is one’s sense of gratitude.  If you don’t show a sense of gratitude in life, you’re going to be less happy.  This is perhaps why we are so unhappy – we are no longer grateful for what we have, as we essentially have everything.  We cannot decipher needs from wants any longer, and therefore can never have enough of anything.

            Only this could explain why quadriplegics tend to be happier than lottery winners.  They’ve learned how to appreciate life with limitations - perhaps one of the greatest challenges of our generation.

Some elderly wisdom from the young

          It’s a new year, and I know it wasn’t my birthday, but for the first time in my life, I can honestly say I no longer feel young.  This isn’t to say that my bones ache or senility is creeping in (although sometimes debatable), but rather that I no longer feel like a young person.

I think it happened when I got my photo driver’s license renewed.  The person renewing it (who was about 15 years older than me, I should mention), said, “Oh yah, you look a lot younger in this picture!”

My little cousin

          I guess five years does make a difference.  Apparently, even a month does.  It was only last November that I was ID’d in a restaurant.  Of course I was with my much younger 31-year-old cousin – he’s got such a baby face, after all (see picture).

          Mine, on the other hand, has turned pale and gaunt after two months of winter and 10 pounds of weight loss since high school.  (I’ve heard most people struggle with weight gain as they grow older.)

          If there’s anything that reminds me that I’m getting older, it’s my own child.  At the pace that kids change, you’re frequently reminded that you, too, must be changing.  Until you look back and see that picture of yourself five years ago, you assume you’re the same.

          But I’m not down about it.  In fact, I often get upset when others complain how old they are (it’s all in your head!).  To be honest, I’m much happier now than when I was 20.  I know a lot of people look back on their university/college years as the best time of their lives, but I can’t relate.  Perhaps it’s my ultra-conservative ways that didn’t allow me to live it up as some do, but the fact is, I enjoy having a job much better than going to school; having a family much better than having none; and having a little more wisdom than when I first graduated from high school.

          Speaking of which, isn’t it amazing how different teenagers look than when I graduated?  They’re so much younger.  They come out of high school with such cute little faces, all eager to change the world.  It’s adorable.

          I no longer have the naïve views of a youth.  But I’m reminded by my own daughter of some of the more important things in life.  Things we tend to forget as adults.  These are a few of them:

Play.  We’ve all heard that play is work for a child, but it’s work that they are passionate about.  Not many adults are as passionate about their work or life in general.  It’s important to leave the vagaries of life to play.  Whatever the activity or sport, it keeps the mind and body active.

          Dream.  As adults, we tend to have a negative view of day dreaming.  It’s considered a waste of time.  An active imagination doesn’t tend to get much credit in our world, unless you’re an artist, but even they tend to be looked down upon (why not get a real job??).  But an active imagination has produced incredible artistic works throughout history and has fuelled some of the greatest inventions.  Perhaps we don’t spend enough time disconnected from our technological devices to let us dream of new possibilities.

          Rest.  I’ve never cared much for naps, but my daughter often requires a companion (i.e. her father).  Taking the time to rest is important.  Get enough sleep and you’ll function a whole lot better during the day (never mind my sleeping disorders, but I’ll talk about that another time).  Too often we’re guilty of trying to get too much done in a day, without taking the time to regenerate.

           Hmmm… Play. Dream. Rest.  Sounds like a sappy Julia Roberts movie.  Maybe I’ll write my own screenplay.  As for now, I’m going to take my government-sanctioned afternoon nap.