Pay Your House Cleaner Anyway

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/20/opinion/coronavirus-domestic-workers.html

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MISSOULA, Mont. — This past week of coronavirus chaos brought a familiar feeling: a moment of confusion and weightlessness — then an immediate fall, like a cartoon character who ran out of solid road.

As a single mother for 10 years, I brought in around $12,000 annually. I mainly worked as a house cleaner just north of Seattle, while I put myself through college. Financial security, even if it meant $20 left after paying bills, was out of reach. We always seemed to run out of money before we ran out of days in the month.

I’m far beyond those years of domestic work, but since my memoir, “Maid: Hard Work, Low Pay and a Mother’s Will to Survive” was published last year, I became known for them. People often approach me with questions, and it has amazed me how many, in hushed tones, ask how much they should pay their own house cleaner.

Over the last few days I’ve received emails and direct messages asking for my advice on how, in light of the novel coronavirus, to approach canceling their house cleaner. Should they blame social distancing and empathetically wish them the best? Absolutely not.

As their private employer, pay the person who works in your home at their full, usual rate for any missed hours. If you can’t get over the “no work, no pay” mind-set, think of it as an accrued benefit like paid leave, sick pay, or vacation days. They are probably overdue.

Most importantly, remember that the estimated 2.5 million domestic workers in this country are an invisible, undervalued population. Those who work in our homes are human beings who, in the face of Covid-19, have no child care, no income and will probably face severe housing insecurity in the months to come.

Though I worked both for a cleaning company and for private clients, my job offered no benefits. If my car broke down, my back went out, my kid was too sick for day care, or if a client canceled their cleaning, I had no savings or paid leave to cover lost wages.

Unexpected expenses or loss of income, even $20, all mattered. I shuffled expenses to figure out what bills could be paid and which ones could be put off. Rent for our studio apartment always went first, then the electric bill, then payments on credit cards.

On the rare occasion I called off work, I did it in fear of being fired. I didn’t have the ability to speak up, say no or protest for fear of losing a job that, after applying to countless diners, coffee shops and offices, was my only option. I begged both my boss and my manager to let me work more. They only considered me for extra hours if I had a near-perfect record of attendance.

As a low-income worker, my take-home pay, at best, was about $200 a week. I received assistance from the government for food, child care and utilities. They call these programs safety nets, but they’re more like rickety life rafts to keep you barely afloat.

For many domestic workers with children older than 6 who rely on government assistance like SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, otherwise known as food stamps) it is vital for them to work 30 hours a week. Without meeting those hours, they risk losing that benefit for as long as three years.

It’s unreasonable to expect people who scrape to get by to have emergency savings. For one, if they’re on SNAP or similar programs, in some states their total assets cannot be more than a few thousand dollars. Whenever I tried to save money during those years it was immediately gone, to make up for lost work hours or even to purchase something as small as a new kitchen sponge.

I stopped trying and spent the extra five bucks on a treat for my kid instead: a package of raspberries or a Happy Meal. There was no investment in the future because the future was unimaginable. There is no planning in a life of fighting to keep a roof over your head. It’s pure survival.

Low-income workers — whose main job is to make our lives easier — now face a life a hundred times harder without the stability of income. Losing even two weeks of work means unpaid rent, a car without gas and the type of hunger that gnaws at you more than the worst kind of stress.

Social distancing is forcing us to make decisions that go against our capitalistic nature: to cut back. Remember who this affects the most — the hourly wage workers who have no option to work remotely, no safety nets and, still, families to feed. We already have more than 11 million children who are food insecure, and that’s about to get a lot worse. Do your part to help.

Stephanie Land (@stepville) is an author and a fellow at Community Change.

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