Spirituality @ Work Dialogue

How Our Parents Influenced the Development of Our Own Spirituality of Work

Welcome to the many new members of our on-line discussion. To review for everyone what we are about: we have been having a conversation for several years about the practice of the spirituality of work. Not spirituality before work, after work, away from work, in spite of work, instead of work, but the spirituality of the work we do each day.

This work includes our paid employment, certainly, but it also includes all the work we do-both paid and unpaid-to make the world a little better place, a little more like the way God would have things.

We focus primarily on the practices of the spirituality of work, on those disciplines that we follow each day in our workplaces that both raise our awareness of the deeper meaning of our work and the presence of the divine spirit in our work and also changes how we do our work.

Most recently, we began to address the topic of what we learned about the spirituality of work from our own parents. I have received several insightful comments. If you would like to add your thoughts, please e-mail me at gpierce@actapublications.com.

Here are some of the responses.

Bill McNamara:

My first job after high school was in the factory where my father was a veteran employee. I knew my father was a good man, but I had no idea how good; he was iconic in that shop, and I started to pay attention to what they were saying about him --kind and caring with everyone; passionate about the quality of his work; always on time, never absent, but fun to be with at lunch or coffee-break. Yikes! I was in for it. This was going to be tougher than following by one year my smart brother John through St. Mike's and LaSalle. But it was edifying too. And as long as I tried to live and work up to those standards pursued by my father, my own path became easy and my work relations were pleasant and productive. Before two years elapsed, the war took me away from father and factory, but I know I was a better serviceman for having had that experience. And, subsequently, a better husband and father to boot. I guess the moral of this story is if a job-seeker has a chance, he'd be wise to follow his father's footsteps -- right through the factory door.

H. Lees:

My mother and father were immigrants from Germany and Austria before World War I. Both of them came from large families, 12 and 13 children. All they knew was work and that ethic has stayed with me all my life. Whether it was spiritual or just part of their fabric of living, I'm not sure, but their example of hard labor under great difficulties has carried me through many hard times. In the late 40s and 50s my mother cleaned houses for wealthy women for one dollar an hour, with a sparse lunch provided and perhaps car fare. Those memories stay with you. Today, at 75, I work full time, have a part time job as buyer for a retreat center and paid off a second house. That's work ethic.

Doris Rudy:

My father (especially, though my mother taught me in other ways) taught me a lot about the spirituality of work. He worked for pay in an office job because his health was not good enough to do farm work, which he really wanted to be doing. He understood his work to be a place to live out his Christian beliefs about honesty, doing his work well, using the gifts God gave him to do his work, etc. When the Savings and Loan for which he worked couldn't for some reason make a small loan, he would often loan his own money (savings, for we were anything but wealthy) for a short time to make it possible for people to buy food or clothes for their families. He charged a small amount of interest until someone sold a crop and could pay him back in full.

His complete dependence on and relationship with God was most apparent to us kids through his gardening, which provided 90% of the food for our family. We helped when we were willing to do the work well (e.g. plant the potatoes with the eyes up "so they could see to grow," he told us). He showed us exactly what to do and we followed directions. He had taught for a few years in a country school though he was educated only through 8th grade himself, so teaching was in his blood. When the garden was fully-planted, I remember his coming into the house, saying "Well, I've done all I can do." He never said it, but we all knew that he totally relied on God to "do the rest"--send the sunshine and the rain to help it grow, producing the sustenance for Dad's family. The gardening experience was truly a spiritual experience for Dad--and for us kids, too, though we (nor he) didn't call it that 60 years ago.

Tina Salmeri:

I grew up as the ninth child, youngest girl with six brothers and three sisters in a family restaurant business. Being one of the youngest in a family of ten children I had plenty of time for observation, especially of my mother. My mother worked 16 hours a day 7 days a week 362 days a year (Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter were the only days the restaurant was closed). Mama ran a successful business but still took care of 10 children plus nieces & nephews during times when her sisters were struggling. It was amazing to me that she always had time to help others, with all she had to do every day. When she found out that the man she hired as a porter had wife and family in Puerto Rico, she found an apartment and furniture and brought the family to the United States. I saw Mama help many people in this way and never once did she regret her generosity after teaching a dish washer how to be a chef and he went to work for another restaurant. Before my mother opened the restaurant she had four children who had one set of school clothes which were washed every day after school, yet my mother fixed a basket of food for "the woman downstairs that didn't have anything."
Mama didn't preach or tell us how to live our spirituality she modeled it every day of her life for us at home and at work.

J. Huber:

From 1930's parents, I heard "An honest day's work for an honest day's pay," and I think that saved me from the "rip off the system before it rips you off" of the 1960's. Early training is important. I also learned that work and determination pays off: for them, a paid-up mortgage after years when they could afford to pay only the interest; for me, a Ph.D.

My dad was a miner from the age of 12 when he started work to help feed the other children. It was hard work in the 20's and 30's, without mechanization: sheer shoveling, getting out of the way of blasting, working on his knees in water. But he never complained. Every spring he would come home from work one evening and turn over the earth in our 12x12 vegetable garden. And he was there at the funeral home with his little black rosary every time someone died. He loved to read, was very intelligent, and with him and my mom, an equally bright, decent, hardworking person, I didn't dare not grow into being a teacher. I can't feed traveling beggars homemade bread like Mom did, but I am good to my students.

E. Giblin:

I can't think of any particular stories other than the fact that my Mom and Dad gave witness to the value of work in all that they did. My Mom was a homemaker and never complained about the day-to-day drudgery that I'm sure my sisters and I caused for her. Her devoted presence in the home indicated her confidence that she was where she was called to be doing what she was called to do. My Dad, a policeman, worked two side jobs to help make ends meet and pay our tuition to parochial school. He, too, never complained about having to stretch himself so thin to support his family and noted that a hard day's work in an honorable job was itself an honor. He felt that his primary job as a policeman was true service to the community and that what he and his colleagues did was more valuable than a civil servant's salary anyway. I guess I am taking the long way around to say that my folks taught me more about the spirituality of work by what they did than by what they ever said.

Both my mom and my dad entered the workforce some 80 years ago. They both had the advantage of a high school commercial education, which equipped them to work in clerical business roles. I don't remember what my dad's first job was but he quickly went to work for the Big Four Railroad (aka, CCC & St L = Chicago, Cleveland, Cincinnati and St. Louis RR), which was gobbled up by the New York Central System in the 30s. Somewhere in there, my dad rose to rank of secretary to the president of the line, travelling with him in his private car, making the Big Four circuit.
Staying on-story and trying to get to the point, my dad was one to always remark about any well-know figure in the news that,well, he or she was a Catholic. It never failed, and I never asked him why. But I surmised an answer to that question. His father certainly, but I think maybe my dad to some extent, experienced discrimination in the workplace because of his being Catholic ("No Catholics need apply!"). So, he always celebrated those Catholics who gained a certain public notoriety.

My older, half-brother (my dad's son from his first marriage; wife #1 dying young) confessed to me, when we were both adults and I was still active in ministry, that he had joined the Masons early on in his business career as a purely career-enhancing move, but never dared tell our father. (He was especially relived that John XXIII had taken the Masons off the list of no-nos for Catholics.)

The spiritual learning in all of this for me was that finding your way through prejudice and observance-compromising situations in the workplace is good for the soul. My dad was a quietly pious person. He liked to talk but was hampered socially by poor hearing. (The early Beltone models couldn't dampen the static effect of heavy background noise in crowded rooms.) But, I never heard him complain once about his work (he worked for the railroad until forced retirement at age 65). Even when they moved his office from Cincinnati to Indianapolis five years before retirement, he packed his bag and worked in Indianapolis commuting home on the weekends (the Interstate system was in its infancy then, but his railroad pass and a cheap railroad hotel made the commute very manageable within the meager family budget). Tough times and situations make us reach deeper, and if the needed resources are there, we develop better muscle and more resilience. I don't know, I haven't thought very much about this until, and this is right off the top of my head.

Joan Krebs:

In the event you didn't know what happens to an old one when you ask questions like this, you will after reading what follows. It's only part of the flood that occured when I opened the memory/heart gates.

CONTEXT: we were just coming out of The Great Depression when Dad opened his first grocery store, one rationale being that "No matter what, people have to eat." He was an immigrant who spent his formative years in farming and whose ancestors were all farmers. He knew and respected food products. Mom was not only his helpmate & soulmate, but also literally his business partner. She grew up in Chicago in dire poverty.

SPIRITUAL PRINCIPLES LEARNED FROM AL & MARION KREBS:

1. Standing behind your product. They named the first store, "Your IGA" and they had a motto, "We aim to please" which they really meant. The second store in Park Ridge became "Al's IGA" but the motto remained the same. Six days per week Dad arose at about 4 a.m., went to South Water Market. He purchased and transported his own produce in order to ensure his customers got the best for the least. Mom got us up and to school; then alone she opened the store, setting up the outside display and doing all prep work before customers came. After Dad's arrival together they ran the store until Mom left to be with us kids in the evening. Dad came home somewhere around 8 or 8:30 for supper and then retired.

2. Balancing work, family and personal life. This was really hard. I can remember only one year in grade school when Mom was home, but the time we were latch key kids was a very short one. Two of my mother's aunts were widowed. I don't know the shenanigans that went into arrangements but one of them came to live with us for about three years until her death. Then the other one did until she "retired" to Phoenix to be near her daughter. We were pre-teens and Mom didn't want us unsupervised so she searched (and, I learned later, used what we now call the process of discernment) until she found a suitable boarding school with the CSJ's of La Grange.

In the summers both of us helped as much as age & individual skills would allow: folding and delivering circulars (actually this occured year round), being cashier, taking the cash deposits to the bank via the el, waiting on customers, packing up phone orders & delivering them with the store bicycles (remember the ones with the small wheels and big baskets in the front?).

I remember lots of laughter on Sundays, the day of no-work; also long drives in the country with singing in the car and listening to The Shadow on the radio. We couldn't afford time for vacations but we loved what we did.

3. Prayer/piety were never separate or even distinct from work or other living. Dad was a "born again" Baptist which for him meant it's a question of living life with honesty, faith, integrity, laughter and respect for the dignity of all including the whole of nature (he was the first organic gardener and recycler I know of). Produce was not just displayed and sold. It had to have a presentation... There was no time especially set aside for praying other than Sunday Mass in our household; that time just didn't exist. Mom's prayer came across to me as loyalty & friendship among her siblings and peers, great & deep humor, courage and immense creativity in overcoming obstacles. The other side to her life-prayer was her support and active partnering she provided in the family enterprise. Often big moves were due to her - like making it possible for Dad to learn butchering so as to include a meat counter or getting the first freezer in the neighborhood when frozen food first came out. Mom also was a multi-tasking meister. I can still hear her say, "Use your head; save your feet." "If you're going in the back, take this with you (what ever "this" was). "You're going for one product; please bring some cash register supplies."

4. Using the resources you have. Although Dad, to the day he died, was a great one for having just the right tool for the job at hand - in the store, the workshop, the garden, for cooking - he also knew how to make the best use of what he had. For instance, Mom never ever acceded to the purchase of a truck although Dad went daily to the market. We couldn't afford two vehicles and she wouldn't allow the family to ride in a truck so the family car was used to haul produce six days per week. Once Dad bought a Cadillac to carry bigger loads, but he soon sold it because it meant other things to friends and siblings. (I guess this spiritual principle could also be called "prioritizing". Usefulness was basis for choosing resources rather than conspicuous consumption (which was actually abhorrent to both Dad and Mom).

5. Research. Dad's first store involved moving from Rogers Park to near Lincoln Square in order to avoid competing with his brother-in-law's grocery store. Much research, both familial (apartment, church & school as well as transportation) and retail figured into the mix. Later when the IGA Coop offered him one of their first "super market" sites in Budlong Woods research figured into his negative response. Finally research plus dependence on Mom's good business acumen, encouragement and personal sacrifice gave them the courage to uproot and move across from the train station in Park Ridge (a shoe store is there now).

Mom and Dad inspired my work spirituality in other ways but I've said enough for today - probably too much, but you did put the question out there didn't you?

Karen Bernier:

As a paralegal my mother was not in a helping profession per se, but yet she was known as a caring, nice person. She would go the extra mile for the newly widowed elderly lady, taking papers to her home instead of having her come in to sign them. She would bake a pie for a client or her special apple cake. She loved her work. Her entire work career was at the same law firm. Unfortunately, she died at 55.

What I have learned is that if you enjoy your work, God is visible. If you do not enjoy your work you must seek Him out either in a different attitude toward your work and the people you encounter, or maybe a different work environment.

Bill Farley:

I learned a great deal about the work ehtic from my Dad. As a proprietor of a small flower shop he worked hard. He was honest to a fault. He took time to work with the poor through St. Vincent dePaul. He was a great father. He had a great sense of humor. I loved him dearly. 8/31/02 was the 25th anniversary of his death. I still miss him greatly.

David Wagner:

Dad didn't really talk a lot about his normal days at the office. I think he was mostly content to just leave his work there. He did, however, occasionally share with us his frustrations, primarily about people bending the rules or the truth to get what they wanted, or sometimes doing the wrong thing for supposedly the right reasons. I believe he felt it was important for our education that we understand that it wasn't always going to be easy to differentiate between good and bad, and that sometimes you had to look a little deeper for guidance. He would say, "There comes a time in every man's life when he has to forget his principles and do what's right." We used to laugh at it then, but I think now I have a better understanding for just how right he was.

"Grateful for Her Dad":

I have consciously avoided responding because my first thoughts were not the laundry one should hang out to dry. Now I decided if a lesson is learned then even negative experiences can be vindicated. My mother is a manipulator, one who uses people to get what ever she wants...home and work. She also is materialistic in all ways and only works to the degree that it shows, very poor work ethic. She is condescending to those she perceives to be less than her, in ability, social standing or the order of the workplace ladder. Refers to the aid as the "little person" who helps.

I learned early on that I didn't want to be like her. As a teen I wanted to use her as a model of what I didn't want to be. My first job was in a Hallmark Card store and I wanted to be proud of what they asked me to do and from then on I have continued to ask myself if I did my best. I ask myself if I speak to those I work with as I would like to be spoken to, up the ladder as well and laterally and below. We are all in this together. The hand cannot do what the eye does, and the mouth what the foot does. We are one body. The quality I would most like to hear said about me is that I am sincere, because I detect insincerity in my mother regularly.

So is this sad? Yes, in that she is hospitalized 2 1/2 weeks ago and I have been struggling inside myself to help care for her. Yes, in that I wish even at 73 she could see things differently. But, no, despite the example that she has been, we also had my dad to help raise their 6 children to work honestly and with pride and support of one another, at home and at work.
If any of this is reproduced, please refer to me as "Grateful for her Dad".

Michael Nachman:

My Father always wore an undershirt with no sleeves. His hands were large and his fingers thick and often his finger nails were discolored from dirt and oil. I learned valuable lessons from him: 1) get up in the morning and go to work, 2) do the best you can, 3)work is necessary to support your family, 4)enjoy the work if you can, 5)make friends with your co-workers, 6) be honest and tell the truth even if it gets you fired, 7) there is more to life then work, enjoy those times. My father was the one who took us to Church every Sunday followed by bowling, he knew how to motivate. He did the ordinary things of life well and the older I get the more appreciative I am of the model he provided me. I miss him a lot!

Anne Kenny Strauss:

I learned about the spirituality of work from my Aunt Mary, or Aunt Mamie as we called her. Aunt Mamie came to Chicago from Ireland in 1927 at the age of 17, and sponsored my mother 20 years later. Aunt Mamie worked as a maid for most of her life, and never owned a home or an auto. When she died 10 years ago, she left a large inheritance for her favorite charities and took care of her family and friends. Although she never progressed beyond secondary school, I have always believed she was the most educated person I know, because she always kept up on current events and could talk to anyone about anything. To me, she embodied class and grace. I always thought that she must have had a card file of saints organized by ailment or problem ("you have a friend with mental illness? Hmmm... here it is! Pray to St Dymphna, the patron of mental illnesses").

Aunt Mamie never married or had children. She taught me how to live a full life and do the very best you can at whatever you do. I will always remember her telling me that her first job was as a bottlewasher in a hospital, and she was determined to be the best bottlewasher there. She was mindful in everything she did (I think she would have been a good Buddhist). From my Aunt Mamie, I have learned to take pride in my work, whether I am answering phones, cleaning houses, or managing an office). Integrity and sweat, with a flair. Those are the ingredients to a good work ethic. Aunt Mamie always went a little more than she was expected. My mentor, my hero, was my Aunt Mamie, a little maid from Ireland who never made the news or wrote a book or stopped a war.