Money and Value

I just came across a blog (that I may discuss later) suggesting that social workers not complain so goddam much (to wildly paraphrase). Well, I like to think I'm "exploring" rather than complaining, but it's all grey, now isn't it? So on to this post's topic: my measly salary.

First of all, my current job – the first since getting my MSW this spring – is going great. It's the first full-time, salaried job I have ever held for more than 2 weeks, and I don't dread going to work as I thought I would. But I have been looking forward to getting a steady paycheck after paying to work all the way through social work school.

But then...I received my second paycheck yesterday. I was shocked – shocked! – at how many taxes were taken out. Ok ay, I know everyone says it, but it's different when it's actually your money. Also, in my former jobs I’ve paid my own taxes as a small business. This sucks in its own way – writing a check for thousands of dollars when you don't really have thousands of dollars – but it still came out to about 14% when all was said and done. How much was taken out of this most recent paycheck? 25%! Okay, I'm naive but I was not prepared for that, and now I have to go back and recalculate my whole budget. My annual salary suddenly seems, well, not so good.

(Let me note that I'm in favor of taxes and social services, I just don't want to be the one paying them. I would not complain if social workers were exempt from taxes, and I would be okay with just me being exempt too.)

But let's get to the point: After I accepted reality I started wondering...first, what value is placed on social work, and why? I don't wonder why working with poor people is undervalued, since we all know our society as a whole doesn't care much about the poor as long as they stay out of sight. I do often wonder why poor children are so undervalued when they are actually so important, and when we live in a country where people (particularly politicians) are always going on about the children and families.

This may be why some social workers think their work is "noble" - "If I can't get paid in money, at least maybe I can pay myself in self-admiration and pats on the back".

But let me tell you what I'm really wondering: what is the impact on our morale, just in knowing that our labor is under-valued? Do we work less hard? Take more breaks? Have more stress? Justify it to ourselves? Kick the dog when we get home? Or just bitch and moan and feel special? Or just feel special? Probably some mix of the above, depending on our personality.

Whatever the impact, there must be one, and we might as well talk about in that case. I, personally, have a complicated brew of bitterness, jealosy, and self-riteousness, which is kind of unplesant to have once you notice it.

(Tangent: If a profession can be a a personal arch-nemesis, mine is school psychology. They study for 3 years and get paid about 50% more than social workers. I don't even want to know more about school psychology because I'm afraid I'll learn something I like).

The assumption in all my mental ruminations, of course, is that money is a proxy for the value of my work, and that the value of my work is a proxy for the value of me. Money is a symbol for respect and value of an individual - it is how much we are "worth". Also inherent in all of this is the idea that I need value to be given to me by an outer authority (society) in the form of a salary, and that a low salary is evidence of my lack of value. I believe it too, except when I don't.

When don't I? Basically, when I am with a client. When I am with a client, I don't think about the value of my work because I am present and in contact with the other person. If there is value, it is a value in the relationship and the present moment. I also feel this way when I come home from good day of work - I feel content in my day, not for having filled out all the right paperwork but for having been in contact with people - and in that state, money is not important (as long as I can pay the bills).

It is really only when ideas come in, when I think about the injustice of being paid less than a school psychologist, or a psychiatrist (which is really the injustice of believeing that I am worth less then them) that I loose that sense, and my head gets activated, and suddenly there is something wrong. Before, I knew the value of things; then, I forgot.