I do not believe my grandfather intended this as a life lesson, but I never forgot the encounter. It impressed upon me the dignity of every person and the honorable nature of work, not matter how seemingly menial. Years later, I remembered this as I mowed neighborhood lawns for spending money, took my first real job on a maintenance crew at a local mall, and even performed what was called “scut work” as a medical student- retrieving labwork, drawing blood, and even digitally dis-impacting elderly patients with severe constipation. When I say ‘digital’ I don’t mean that as in digital versus analog; I mean putting your fingers in their butt to dig out stool.
As a physician, I have had the privilege to work in a profession that remains highly regarded in society and provides for a standard of living that anyone would envy. I have always tried to be appreciative and humble regarding the blessings that are mine and tried to give back both in my professional and personal life. Those of us who have the privilege of working in professions that provide creature comforts, have limited to no real physical demands, pay well, and carry with them an elevated social status often forget that we depend daily on those whose jobs involve working outdoors, doing manual labor, doing things generally regarded as distasteful (think garbage collection, septic tank work), picking crops and other agricultural work, and other “menial” jobs, often paying minimum wage. It can be instructive and revelatory to stop to think for a moment what life would be like if those people were not doing those jobs, as occurred in 1981 in the 16 day strike by garbage workers in New York City.
The next time you call for a delivery or go through the drive-thru of your neighborhood fast food franchise, pick up your latte at the coffee shop, buy groceries, flush your toilet, or do any of the thousand things a day that you do routinely, take a moment to appreciate the people doing the work that keeps all of modern civilization running smoothly. There is a reason we do not see garbage piling up in the streets. When my grandfather referred to the street sweeper as a very distinguished gentleman, he was not being facetious. He meant it. The gentleman was doing a hot, sweaty, physically demanding, and dirty job that needed to be done and in so doing, providing a needed service to the community and supporting his family.
All honest work has dignity and is honorable. It was a lesson I never forgot.
Richard T. Bosshardt, MD, FACS
Thank you for reminding me of the dignity each person . He was born in 1898 and served in the 1st World War I. He loved gardening, history, poetry, oil painting and he was the Sunday school Superintendent of Chestnut Hill Methodist Church. He was eighteen years older than my mom. Daniel Pierson Nelson was a milkman, a job he loved. When he died at age 94 our church overflowed with people who shared testimonies to his caring, influence, ingenuity, humor, and love of his family. Just a humble milkman but a man who had great respect for his job and everyone he touched.