Paper or Plastic, a Pandemic and Prayer

While we are each unique and special, some things are common to all of us. We all have to eat so we all keep food in our house.  Thus, we all eventually go to the grocery store. This experience can range from exciting (when you find something you REALLY crave) to educational (when you learn that Fuji apples actually improve with age while Gala apples lose their sweetness over time) to annoying (when you go to checkout in a hurry only to find the checker has been inadequately trained in switching out the empty register tape and now is performing a complete mechanical overhaul of the register) to mundane. 

When we go to the grocery store, we are all faced with a choice regardless of what we are buying, our attitude about shopping or where we shop. In most stores, we are asked, “Paper or plastic?” In a way, this question elicits little in the way of thought or contemplation. If we’re environmentally conscious, we might request paper but if we’re like most people – hurried and seeking an immediate escape from the stress of retail – we likely blurt out “plastic!” Either way, it is a simple binary experience we all share that serves as just another of the hundreds of choices we make in our day.

What is at the heart of this, however, is who is asking this question. Most often it’s a bagger or checker. Someone we may or may not acknowledge or consider as we most often focus on our phones seeking only to evacuate from the store and the perils of shopping with minimal human interaction. These people normally grace our lives briefly with very little attention from us.

I have now worked in grocery retail for over three years. In that time, I have come to appreciate our teammates at Schnucks immensely. While I relish in the complex problems brought on by intense and consolidating competitors, the opportunities available to us through technology, the challenges of maintaining a stable supply chain and so on – what I have ACTUALLY come to appreciate most is connecting with those who serve our customers. The clerks, checkers, baggers and department heads in our stores who all work without desks, thus being forced to stand, for hundreds or thousands of hours per year to help people get through the shopping gauntlet. 

In the past 10 months, these teammates have taken on even greater significance in the eyes of our customers. It took a pandemic and the resulting isolation for people to truly “see” those who serve us in grocery retail (as well as in the healthcare system, those cleaning our offices and facilities, those patrolling and protecting our neighborhoods, those delivering our packages, and on and on) as necessary and as people. It took a pandemic and the resulting isolation for us to appreciate the short interactions as now possibly our lone human connection.  And it took a pandemic for us to ALL realize just how much we need these newly defined “frontline” workers to get through our days. 

In 1950, a little over 50% of the US working population worked in the service sector –that number was just under 80% at the end of 2019 just prior to the outbreak of COVID. While the vast majority of people in the U.S. now work to serve others, those serving us on the frontlines have realized the least amount of benefit from our growing economy over the decades. 

Many currently defined frontline service jobs fall into the lower income classification. According to Pew Research, the share of aggregate U.S. income from 1970 to 2018 has actually declined from 10% to 9% for the population in the lower income classification while the share of total wealth among lower income earners has declined 45% during this same period. Yet, it took a pandemic for us to realize just how important these roles – and people – are in our daily lives. 

While we won’t solve income disparity or the widening socio-economic gap in the U.S. that is fueling MANY of the issues we’re facing as a society overnight, we can take the examination that comes with this most challenging time to at least acknowledge those who defied apprehension to help make our day-to-day lives a little easier and a little more “normal”. Most of these frontline teammates do not see themselves as unique or special, for many, their role as public servant is born out of necessity rather than choice – working from home on Zoom calls was never an option. However the service they provide IS special and warrants our deep appreciation.

The past 10 months have inspired a lot of personal reflection. I am what my friend Dan Rooney, founder of Folds of Honor, calls a Jesus follower. This means that I try to learn from Jesus' example and apply it in every area of my life (most often failing miserably). This also means that I pray a lot. As the Holidays have approached, I find myself praying in gratitude more and more. Grateful for the teammates who show up each day regardless of the trials they face at home, grateful for the fact that – more than ever – our teammates are being noticed, thanked and truly appreciated by those they serve and grateful that our business is resulting in the need to hire more and more new teammates – bringing income and opportunity to those struggling with the economic realities that have impacted so many businesses and people in this pandemic.

I also pray in hope. Hope that the appreciation expressed for frontline workers is converted to more genuine opportunity and economic empowerment. Hope that, in the face of unprecedented political and social division, the most common of trips to the grocery store can restore some more authentic connection and shared experience for all of us. Hope that, when we face the choice of how to behave after this pandemic is behind us, we choose empathy, patience, respect and appreciation. And hope that, when posed with the question, “paper or plastic,” we first “see” and acknowledge those asking and appreciate that we have choices in our lives at all.