Lee Geiger

Capitalism without bankruptcy is like Christianity without hell.

Frank Borman

Of the many complaints lodged during this pandemic, the gripe that grabs at my ghord is the refrain from parents having to home-school their own children. “I had no idea how hard it is to teach,” said a frazzled Dad at the end of his rope to The New York Times. “Teachers should earn double what they’re being paid now.”

No shoehorn, Sherlock.

Some of us already knew this. In “What I Believe,” my controversial 2017 blog post detailing what makes me tick, I stated the following:

“If I were president of the United States, the first thing I would do is reverse the educational pay structure in America. Kindergarten teachers should be paid more than college professors.”

It never ceases to amaze me how so many people take the noble profession of teaching for granted. These dedicated men and women educate, mentor, and mold the people we love and cherish the most; our children. They are the definition of ESSENTIAL.

Not just to parents, but to society at large. Yet the overwhelming majority of teachers, regardless of whether they’re judged to be good or bad at their jobs, live a paycheck-to-paycheck existence, a life filled with all-you-can-stand stress. And what’s their reward? Meddlesome parents, never ending budget cuts, and salaries that don’t come close to sniffing the American dream. Sounds like a marvelous way to earn a living, doesn’t it?

This is not right.

Meanwhile, today’s media celebrates our newest “essential” heroes, the doctors, nurses, and front-line health care workers fighting the fight of this COVID-19 hell. These brave and tireless souls deserve every accolade heaped upon them. Fortunately, most are able to earn a decent wage, reflecting their worth to society’s well-being. But in my opinion, they could use a raise. So has anyone who’s ever needed one “STAT.”

But what about the next level of “essential” heroes, the store clerks, bus drivers, postal employees, restaurant staff, and delivery drivers manning the barricades, the everyday people doing their everyday best to add some semblance of normality to our caged-in existence? Why are they only considered “essential” in a global health crisis? And why do most of them earn less per hour than what it costs for a martini to be shaken or stirred?

This is not fair.

This laconic blog post isn’t meant to serve as a whitepaper pontificating about the dynamics of income inequality. That’s beyond my paygrade. But I do believe our present society needs to take a magnifying glass to itself, to adjust and reevaluate its priorities, to reconsider who and what is “essential” to making each of us rise up in the morning and step out into this unforgiving world.

And I’m not talking about socialism. I’m a tried and true conservative, a dyed-in-the-wool capitalist who believes the free market will almost always arrive at the best and most efficient outcome. But at the end of the day it’s not about what you feel you deserve. It’s about value–what value each of us brings to the communal table, and what value each of us deserves for that effort. The CEO making strategic decisions while residing in the executive suite deserves more than the mop swinger working the late shift. But a thousand times more? That’s a tough sale.

If there is one silver lining to two-months (or more) of sheltering-in-place, it’s that we’ve all had an opportunity to muse on what each of us considers to be “essential” to our lives. Stuff as well as people. Is it essential to upgrade to the latest iPhone to take your next Tik-Tok selfie; to replace your 48” TV with an 80” monstrosity to watch the Red Zone channel?  Are these really necessary? Better yet, are they considered “essential” to your lifestyle? They might have been before 2020, but maybe not so now. Then again, I do really like the Red Zone.

You know what is essential right now? Masks and plexiglass. And I despise them both. You know what else is essential right now? Parks and hugs. And I’ll take all I can get.

And here’s what’s not essential; egos. They’re so 2019.

The experiences of the Great Depression, as well as World War II, transpired the Greatest Generation to take a mirror to itself, and the aftermath was a reevaluation of what was “essential.” The unbridled gaiety of the 1920’s was replaced by the post-war pragmatism of the 1950’s. Gatsby was replaced by Andy Griffith.

In the spirit of never letting a good crisis go to waste, that’s what the Pandemic of 2020 is going to do to this round of humankind, pampered tribes of boomers, millennials, and Generations X, Y and Z-ers that for much of the last four decades, with a few notable exceptions, has been raised on plenty of peace and way too much prosperity. History moves in waves, and like it or not it’s our turn in the mixing bowl, getting our faces slapped and guts punch. We’re going to have to learn to adapt and adjust and determine what is worthwhile and what is worthless. And let’s not kid ourselves; despite the gazillions of governmental handouts issued to soften the blow and neutralize the pain, this slice of time is going to hurt. Scars will be left, but somewhere down the road, when the fog has cleared and the dust has settled, we’ll hopefully wear them with pride.

I’m just saying.