Rico: Az wage trap snares mentally impaired
by Gabriela Rico on Feb. 15, 2007, under LocalIf workers are paid more, they may get less help
An unintended consequence of the voter-approved increase in the state's minimum wage is that workers such as Jennifer O'Neill (above) might have to pick between their jobs and maintaining Social Security benefits. The higher wage would make them ineligible.
For some, a job is about more than a paycheck.
It provides a sense of accomplishment and belonging that cannot be calculated in dollars and cents.
When Arizona voters in November approved increasing the minimum wage to $6.75 an hour, they wiped out a wage exemption for developmentally disabled workers. The new wage took effect in January.
State lawmakers are wringing their hands and sorting through opinions from legal and labor experts on how to proceed. I have a suggestion:
They might do well to meet people such as Amanda, Jennifer, Lillabee and Sarah.
From assembling aircraft parts to ensuring drug testing kits are in order, the women are part of a thousands-strong work force in Arizona whose employment is in question because employers might be forced to double or triple their hourly wage.
“I can’t imagine what we would do,” says Dee O’Neill, a Tucson lawyer whose daughter Jennifer has Down syndrome and works five days a week placing colored drug-detecting strips into plastic sleeves. “It would be a disaster.”
Steven R. King, president and CEO of the Beacon Group, a nonprofit program for developmentally disabled adults, said many of its workers have very low IQs, some in the 30s.
The workers’ pay is based on a formula that takes into account the usual wage paid for that job and individual productivity.
Depending on the job and their output, they are paid from 70 cents to more than $10 an hour, King said.
Beyond the issue of hourly compensation, if some of the workers begin earning $6.75 or more an hour, they become ineligible for Social Security benefits and independent living assistance. Their new and improved salary would hardly make up for that.
The legal “oops” is a tragic illustration of what happens when we make laws through initiatives without complete knowledge, or in some cases concern, about the consequences.
Tucson pediatrician Dr. Rick Williams’ daughter Sarah stuffs envelopes and color-codes mail at the Beacon Group.
There, the 25-year-old is learning socialization as well as work skills, her father says.
Sarah was born with a ring chromosome No. 9, a rare condition that affects her in many ways as if she had Down syndrome, Williams says.
At work, the soft-spoken Sarah enthusiastically introduces visitors to her friends and demonstrates her envelope-stuffing skills.
“The most important thing is that she has a place to go and that she feels she is being valued,” her father says. “Take that away from her and you’re taking away a big part of her life.”
Barbara Sadler, senior vice president of Commerce Bank of Arizona, whose daughter Amanda has mild mental retardation, says her daughter doesn’t need the income. Rather, she needs the interaction with her peers and the sense of responsibility that comes with holding a job.
The alternative, Sadler says, is for Amanda, 30, to be in an institutional setting all day.
“She would go downhill very quickly,” Sadler says. “If she’s off work a week or two, she goes backwards.”
The Arizona Industrial Commission, the state Attorney General’s Office and lawyers for the Arizona Legislature and others are scrambling to find a solution.
House Bill 2318 would exempt such workers and allow them to continue receiving lower pay, but some fear it could take a special referendum to amend the law.
One proposal would classify certain developmentally disabled workers as “trainees” rather than “employees,” and avoid the minimum-wage requirements.
Change their job titles, craft a new bill or take it to the voters. Whatever. Just decide.
Sure, fewer than 3,000 developmentally disabled adults statewide stand to lose their jobs. Sure, they probably aren’t big campaign contributors or even voters.
But watch Lillabee Dwan meticulously place a washer onto a rivet that will be used to build an airplane that you may one day fly in and tell me her job doesn’t matter.
Dwan, 42, splits her time between the rivet shop and remedial grammar and spelling classes at Beacon. Idle conversation is not an option for Lillabee, who rushes from one task to another.
Amanda Sadler, 30, was shaking from the excitement of greeting visitors to a Jim Click Nissan dealership at the Tucson Auto Mall where she washes cars.
“I really like my job,” she says. “I don’t like days off.”
Rinsing and drying cars in the lot, Amanda turns carefully to make sure she doesn’t unintentionally spray spectators.
“Do you like it?” she asks as she wipes down a sport utility vehicle. “Isn’t it pretty?”
A less talkative worker, Jennifer O’Neill, 33, tucks her hair into a net, crosses her legs and studies the five colored strips on the table before her.
She is visibly annoyed by questions while trying to concentrate on the color sequence of the drug-testing strips.
“I am working right now,” she says firmly.
Our state and political leaders could learn a thing or two from Jennifer about the importance of taking their jobs seriously.
Gabriela Rico is the Citizen’s business editor. She can be reached at 807-7762 and grico@tucsoncitizen.com. Address letters to P.O. Box 26767, Tucson, AZ 85726-6767.
'The most important thing is that she has a place to go and that she feels she is being valued.'
DR. RICK WILLIAMS,
father of Sarah Williams (above)
When not in remedial reading and grammar classes, Lillabee Dwan works at the Beacon Group assembling rivets that are used in the construction of airplanes.
———
