The Working Poor at the Burger King Window

By Marcus Zwaine

Ms. Yvette just turned 60 years old. For 26 of those years, she’s worn the same fast-food uniform, working behind the counter and in the kitchen at Burger King. After nearly three decades, she has the title of assistant manager. Her reward? Thirteen dollars an hour. No retirement plan. No 401(k). No health insurance. Just $13 an hour, after more than a quarter century of showing up on time, filling schedules, dealing with irate customers, and keeping a corporate franchise humming.

Do the math with me. At 40 hours a week, $13 an hour comes to $520. Over the course of a year, that’s just over $27,000 before taxes. Take out the 20 percent she loses to taxes, and she is left with about $21,600. Spread that over 12 months, and Ms. Yvette lives on roughly $1,800 a month.

Her rent is $450. She shares an apartment with her sister. Add to that a car note, utilities, groceries, gas, insurance, and the little things that pile up. There’s no cushion. No savings. No nest egg. At 60 years old, she’s still living paycheck to paycheck, one unexpected bill away from crisis. That’s life for the working poor in America today.

And she is not alone. Next to her in the drive-thru window stands Dolores. Dolores is eight months pregnant. She earns $9 an hour. That’s $360 a week before taxes. Call it $290 after taxes, or about $1,100 a month. It is barely enough to survive, let alone raise a child. Yet Dolores works her shift faithfully, headset on, serving car after car, because she has no choice.

These women are not exceptions. They are the rule for millions of Americans stuck at the bottom of the wage ladder. The barber who rents a chair and scrapes by on haircuts and side hustles. The men working long shifts on the riverfront, making decent wages but barely keeping up with the rising cost of living. Everywhere you look, the same story repeats: hard work without a future.

Meanwhile, the gulf between rich and poor widens. The wealthy have never had it easier. They can hire help at a discount, because immigration, especially undocumented labor, pushes wages lower at the bottom. Let’s be honest about this. The presence of millions willing to work for less undercuts workers like Yvette and Dolores. Economists put the downward pressure at roughly 30 percent for low end wages. My Democratic friends don’t like to admit that, but it’s true. Wealthier households benefit from cheaper labor, but the working poor pay the price.

We can’t fix this by ignoring it. We can’t celebrate the dignity of work while turning a blind eye to the reality that wages are stagnant, benefits are disappearing, and entire industries are built on keeping people just barely afloat.

If we truly care about the working poor, here are three things we need to do. First, wages at the bottom must rise with the cost of living, not every five or ten years, but consistently. Second, benefits must follow workers, not just jobs. If Yvette gave 26 years to Burger King, she should have something to show for it besides a pay stub. And third, immigration policy must be dealt with honestly. It is not racist to say that unlimited low-wage labor hurts American workers. It is reality.

The plight of the working poor is not inevitable. It is a choice we make when we value cheap labor over fair labor, when we measure corporate success by the stock price instead of the paycheck, and when we allow politics to cloud the truth staring us in the face.

Ms. Yvette deserves more. Dolores deserves more. Millions of Americans deserve more. Until we are willing to face the hard truths about wages, benefits, and immigration, the view from the Burger King window will stay the same: working poor, working hard, and falling further behind.