After returning to California from a long stint in Africa and Europe during World War II, my grandfather Chuck got a job as a motorcycle cop just south of Los Angeles. The dangerous aspects of the job upset my grandmother (MaryAnne), and when she became pregnant (with my mom), she insisted they move back to their families in Sacramento. Once there, he became an electrician, joining his IBEW local. Each day, he would go to his union hall and hope he and his colleagues would find their names on a job board, so he had work – and pay. But it wasn’t consistent. His 1946 tax return shows that he was paid by seven different electrical companies and contractors.
As time went on and as my mom and her sister (my aunt) got older, my grandmother got her teaching certificate and started teaching elementary school, like her mother before her. Beyond loving teaching, my grandmother knew the family needed more stable income. My grandfather suffered a mild heart attack and a serious fall on a job, both of which eventually meant that he had to quit working by the time he was in his 40s. But my grandmother kept on teaching, providing for her family. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my mom became a teacher too.
Hilary Woodward is a Senior Communications Strategist at Jobs With Justice
