Leaving my ethics at the door - the life of a capitalist's teenage slave

I have opinions and views. I view things as just and unjust. I’m not afraid to tell people what I think. Basically I am very secure in my political views and feelings. Well that’s what I thought. Seems the capitalist were right and money does come above everything.

I was working at a massive chain store during my 7th form year and I didn’t mind it too much. I only worked Saturdays and the occasional late night Thursday, so I didn’t really have too much experience as a ‘real worker’. The fact that in a 9 hour day I only one half hour break didn’t annoy me too much. The disregard for safe working conditions didn’t faze me. The treatment of staff flew over my head. I had scored the cool job, working at the coolest shop in the city. And then came Christmas time. Now not only was I working a nine hour day, but it had increased to 10 hours, still with the same meagre break. Head office was determined to cash in on the festive season and you had to SELL SELL SELL to every single customer who walked through the door. Never mind the fact that you couldn’t justify a $150 hoodie to yourself, let alone a complete stranger. Christmas and the summer seemed to drag on for years working there, but finally it was February and I was leaving home to head off the big smoke and start uni.

Oh how wrong I was. During my year at university I had become much more familiar with the union movement. I understood workers rights and the idea of fairness. I realised that my old work was the hell and the CEO was the devil. These owners did not give two shits about the staff. They didn’t care about the customers. All they cared about was making money. They only gave staff a half hour lunch break because they didn’t have to pay them for it and they would REALLY be breaking the Labour Act if they ignored that one! Even though under they law for a nine hour day you are also intituled to 2 15mins break. BUT WAIT! These are paid 15 minute breaks, and the bosses couldn’t have staff members getting paid for having a rest! That’s crazy! What are you workers rights activists thinking about! That is a loss of money! How unproductive. Plus breaks pull staff away from the floor, and if they are not on the floor that means that there is one less person to greet a customer and force them into buying a $70 top.

And yet one year later, knowing how wrong it is. Knowing how this job goes against everything I believe in. Knowing how horrible it is. I am standing back behind the counter serving customers as if I had never left. The capitalists were right, money is the prime goal, and ethics are secondary. If I was working there for longer that 2 ½ months I would get on to them. I would shove the Labour Act right down their throats. I would join a union and entice my other workmates too, and we would have our own mini revolution. But. I need money. And kicking up a fuss means I will get less hours, which means less money. Which means for now, I am just leaving my ethics at the door. Marx would disown me if he knew.

The Motorcycle Diaries

First of all, holy shit Gael Garcia Bernal is a B A B E ! That man can be my doctor any day! Check him out! OK, I should calm down now and get onto my actual point.





(P.S. Dev, I have noticed that my page views have gone up quite a bit. Thanks for checking in and caring about what I write!)

So given that I am starting Spanish at uni next year, and have never learnt it before I thought I should spend the summer reading and watching things do to with the Spanish language. I bought Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Love in the Time of Cholera and 100 Years of Solitude (bonus as they appear in Rory's reading list). I have been scanning the Lonely Planet website and found the 10 best fiction novels written about Latin American states. I got the Motorcycle Diaries and Volver out from United Video! And I will learn to make Mohitos as soon as my pay come through for the rum! So basically a nice, although highly trivial Spanish basis.

So tonight was Motorcycle Diaries night. And what a night it was. If you are reading this, go. Go and get this movie out from the DVD store. It is amazing. I was always quite fond of Che, though in all honesty I didn't know much about him. Prior to the movie this is what I knew:

1. He was Argentinian
2. He was a doctor
3. He was good friends with Fidel Castro and was a leader in the Cuban revolution
4. America didn't like him and therefore shot him

That's about the limit of my knowledge. And also that thousands of people wear tops with his face on them, or have bags or posters without know what the man really did. The movie enlightened me and I learnt a few new things about this sweetheart of a man:

1. He was an asthmatic
2. He wasn't very lucky with the ladies - or his girlfriend at least
3. His bestie was Alberto

So I didn't really seem to learn that much more about the man, yet I did. I knew he was a man of and for the people and this really came out in the movie. He and his friend Alberto traveled South America, starting in Argentina and ending in Venezuela. It is through this traveling, meeting new people, having new experiences that Che develops his political standings. He connects with the people of Latin America and their hardships. He sees injustices all over the continent, particulary with the native people and this fires him up to believe that there is more to life, that people should not be treated inhumanly, that all people are worthy of a decent life.

Now I will just have to read the book the movie to further my Che knowledge. And I think i will have to call my child Ernesto. Yes. Sounds like a plan.