“When someone works for less pay than she can live on — when, for example, she goes hungry so that you can eat more cheaply and conveniently — then she has made a great sacrifice for you, she has made a gift of some part of her abilities, her health, and her life.” — Barbara Ehrenreich
Its been over a decade since the local school board in Bedford, N.H. was besieged by parents determined to save their offspring from the oft cited “liberal agenda.” Presaging the grassroots tactics that have since become standard operating procedure for conservative book-banners, the plan was to single out, then remove authors and titles not in line with their politics (staunch conservatism) and religious beliefs (staunch Christian fundamentalism).
As noted in this space at the time, near the top of the list was Barbara Ehrenreich’s 2001 landmark “Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America,” her first-person account of life on minimum wage circa 2000 (then $5.15 per hour). Hailed by class conscious liberals as a truthteller, demonized by conservative economists as a poser and extremist, Ehrenreich quickly found herself at the center of the “class wars” invented by Republicans to help camouflage a growing wealth gap. But she characteristically occupied that space, and used it in the service of dignity and equality for the marginalized — a calling that continued until her death on Sept. 1, at age 81.
Ehrenreich was a study in activists of privilege, but possess an urge to advocate with and for those with little or none. Born to a moderately wealthy family, she went on to earn a doctorate in immunology, work at a government job and teach at a number of universities before focusing her efforts on feminism and class. When asked about a crystallizing moment in that transition, Ehrenreich recalled giving birth to her daughter in a walk-in clinic in New York City: “I was the only white patient at the clinic, and I found out this was the health care women got … They induced my labor because it was late in the evening and the doctor wanted to go home. I was enraged. The experience made me a feminist.”
Once engaged, the prolific Ehrenreich became a force for wider progressive change, moving from freelance writer to grassroots organizer to published author of 21 books. Her work gradually took on an intersectional approach, as she posited a plethora of issues as guided by the same oppressive impulse: war; racism; class; environmental destruction; rationed health care; runaway capitalism.
When asked about her own identities, Ehrenreich replied she was a socialist feminist — yet another example of her overlapping approach to social and political activism. She regularly criticized organized religion, empty social platitudes and finding a rainbow in every storm. Yet her sometimes scouring take on the world struck a chord with those weary of superficial questions and answers.
Ehrenreich received a number of awards and recognition over the course of her 60-year career. Known for a snarky and direct take on life, she expressed appreciation for all the laurels, but showed no signs of taking them all that seriously. (A goodly number of the liberals passing out the kudos were at one time or another fodder for Ehrenreich’s scathing criticism. When it came to Barbara Ehrenreich and injustice, nobody seems to have gotten a pass.)
So as one of her friends noted, what we have left of Ehrenreich are her words. Strong words. As progressives in particular weigh Ehrenreich’s legacy, consider she was the embodiment of a “comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable” way of being in the world. She knew up close there is an America reserved only for its truly vulnerable, and dared us to engage it.
Don Rollins is a Unitarian Universalist minister in Jackson, Ohio. Email donaldlrollins@gmail.com.
From The Progressive Populist, October 15, 2022
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