 |
| One way to get experience in the job market is with hands-on experience. Shelby Marse, 19, of Montgomery, washes windows at B's Auto Parts in Newburgh on Friday. She works for a window-washing franchise that's part of the YWCA of Orange County's program to teach nontraditional job skills to women. |
Group trains women for jobs - YWCA helps promote trades that pay more (New Windsor). Shelby Marse sees window washing as a way to a better life. The 19-year-old Montgomery woman has been working since July for a Fish Window Cleaning franchise operated by the YWCA of Orange County. The business is part of the organization's efforts to provide workforce opportunities that may lead to higher-paying jobs than those traditionally open to women without college degrees. “A young woman who doesn't pursue higher education goes into child care, health care for $8 to $9 an hour,” said Christine Sadowski, YWCA executive director, “while a young man goes into skilled labor” and earns much more. The employment path, she said, starts when girls baby-sit while their brothers mow lawns. “Some women are unhappy in those jobs,” Sadowski said. “And we want to show them that there are other possibilities.”
On-the-job learning: Marse is thinking she might like to run her own business someday. In the meantime, she said, she's learning new skills washing windows, as well as making more money than she earned in a supermarket bakery. “I'm working with the public more than I did before,” Marse said, “so I've learned about customer service: dealing with very nice people, aggravated people, all different sorts.” She pointed out the five windows and the doors she'd be washing at a restaurant on Route 32.
“I love it because I'm independent,” she said. “I make my own hours. The more (window) jobs you have, the more money you make, so you want to get as many jobs as possible.”
Targeting single mothers: The YWCA has also begun a free eight-week program funded by the United Way that offers discussions about skilled trades that women might consider. It includes an introduction to using hand tools and working from ladders. Volunteer guest speakers include women already engaged in nontraditional jobs and labor-union representatives. One class is now held at the YWCA office at 484 Temple Hill Road. It may expand to different locales, depending on demand.
A key group that the program aims to reach are low-income, single mothers. “They can't take four, six years to get a career,” while a paid apprenticeship might work for some, said Danielle Marse-Kapr, coordinator of the workforce program and Shelby Marse's sister. The YWCA, she said, wants to make women more aware that there are options available to them. “Either they don't realize it,” Sadowski said, “or don't know how to go about it, or that they don't feel comfortable, but by and large these are not jobs we put before women as career choices.”
How to sparkle on the job: You've probably seen the dude in downtown Raleigh, single-mindedly and unobtrusively doing his duty. On the other hand, maybe you haven't seen him because you, like most others, look right through him the same way you look through the window he is washing. On a recent afternoon, my buddy Blind and I sat outside sipping coffee and marveling - yes, marveling - at the attention to detail the man was exhibiting while washing the windows at the Morning Times coffee shop. After he'd made them appear flawless to the average eye, he did something unimaginable in today's society, which rewards mediocrity and slipshoddiness: He washed them again. Only then did he step back to admire his handiwork. It's impossible to imagine Michelangelo feeling any more pride after finishing his 16th chapel than showed in window washer Kevin Spencer's face after he'd finished that window.
Satisfied at last with the window's luminosity, he sheathed his squeegee and prepared to climb onto his mountain bike. "Say, homes. You got a minute?" I asked Spencer before he pedaled away. During the course of our conversation, I learned that Spencer, 59, uses the unlikely pulpit provided by cleaning windows to "introduce people to my love of the Lord." He is also, at times, a one-man employment agency. You know those dudes you see shuffling around downtown, hummin' and bummin' all the live-long day for spare change? Spencer said he sometimes gives it to them when they ask, but more likely will suggest where they can get a job.
Honorable work though it is, does anyone grow up with the goal of cleaning dead bugs off windows? Spencer didn't. In a life that has had as many twists and turns as he uses when scrubbing the squeegee across dirty windows, Spencer went to college to become an engineer. "I hated washing windows" as child, he said. "My mother was always trying to get me to wash the windows. I'd do anything to avoid it." When he started washing them for a living, he said, "I called my mother and told her. She couldn't stop laughing."
He got into the business in 1984 when he met a man in Chicago. "He was in the ministry, and he told me he had a business. He asked me if I had $20. I said 'yes.' He said 'You're in business, too.'" Spencer said he bought a squeegee and a bucket and the minister gave him a list of 20 stores that needed their windows cleaned. He said he has cleaned windows in Chicago, for the Baltimore Public Schools system and at the Pentagon, among other places. He now has clients all over Raleigh, in Cary and Wake Forest.
Greg Hatem, who owns the Morning Times building and several other downtown buildings that benefit from Spencer's work, said Spencer has been working for him a long time. "He's great," Hatem says. "Not only does he do a great job, but he has such positive energy. He's one of those people that makes you feel better after you see him." Spencer is divorced. So how, I ask, do the honeys respond when he tells them what he does for a living? "I tell them I'm self-employed. I'll take 'em out to dinner to one of the restaurants where I clean the windows," and in the course of the meal mentions his association with the place. Some, he said, are ready to split immediately, while others are impressed with his initiative. Still others, he said, ask if they can wash windows with him. Men: That's when you know you've got a keeper - when she offers to join you cleaning dead bugs and grime off windows.
There is another notable downtown squeegee-wielder threatening Spencer's livelihood, possibly undercutting his fee. Is Spencer worried, I ask? Nah. "He's not a nice guy. Even if he gets the job one time, they don't want him back. He's not friendly. I'm very friendly. Attitude," the window-washing sage concluded, "has a lot to do with everything you do." I'll bet Michelangelo felt the same when he finished the Sistine Chapel. So should we all.
Satisfied at last with the window's luminosity, he sheathed his squeegee and prepared to climb onto his mountain bike. "Say, homes. You got a minute?" I asked Spencer before he pedaled away. During the course of our conversation, I learned that Spencer, 59, uses the unlikely pulpit provided by cleaning windows to "introduce people to my love of the Lord." He is also, at times, a one-man employment agency. You know those dudes you see shuffling around downtown, hummin' and bummin' all the live-long day for spare change? Spencer said he sometimes gives it to them when they ask, but more likely will suggest where they can get a job.
Honorable work though it is, does anyone grow up with the goal of cleaning dead bugs off windows? Spencer didn't. In a life that has had as many twists and turns as he uses when scrubbing the squeegee across dirty windows, Spencer went to college to become an engineer. "I hated washing windows" as child, he said. "My mother was always trying to get me to wash the windows. I'd do anything to avoid it." When he started washing them for a living, he said, "I called my mother and told her. She couldn't stop laughing."
He got into the business in 1984 when he met a man in Chicago. "He was in the ministry, and he told me he had a business. He asked me if I had $20. I said 'yes.' He said 'You're in business, too.'" Spencer said he bought a squeegee and a bucket and the minister gave him a list of 20 stores that needed their windows cleaned. He said he has cleaned windows in Chicago, for the Baltimore Public Schools system and at the Pentagon, among other places. He now has clients all over Raleigh, in Cary and Wake Forest.
Greg Hatem, who owns the Morning Times building and several other downtown buildings that benefit from Spencer's work, said Spencer has been working for him a long time. "He's great," Hatem says. "Not only does he do a great job, but he has such positive energy. He's one of those people that makes you feel better after you see him." Spencer is divorced. So how, I ask, do the honeys respond when he tells them what he does for a living? "I tell them I'm self-employed. I'll take 'em out to dinner to one of the restaurants where I clean the windows," and in the course of the meal mentions his association with the place. Some, he said, are ready to split immediately, while others are impressed with his initiative. Still others, he said, ask if they can wash windows with him. Men: That's when you know you've got a keeper - when she offers to join you cleaning dead bugs and grime off windows.
There is another notable downtown squeegee-wielder threatening Spencer's livelihood, possibly undercutting his fee. Is Spencer worried, I ask? Nah. "He's not a nice guy. Even if he gets the job one time, they don't want him back. He's not friendly. I'm very friendly. Attitude," the window-washing sage concluded, "has a lot to do with everything you do." I'll bet Michelangelo felt the same when he finished the Sistine Chapel. So should we all.
No comments:
Post a Comment