“Latte Art” by Kenny Louie. By Catherine Watson
ANOTHER week, another report of a high-end city restaurant underpaying staff. It’s business as usual, with many of the underpaid staff on migrant visas or in other vulnerable positions.
But it would be a mistake to believe that country workers are in a better position than their city counterparts with wage theft common in the hospitality industry here as well.
A friend of mine worked at a local café. She started on $18 an hour, cash in hand. She worked five days a week, including Saturdays. After three months her pay went up to $20.
ANOTHER week, another report of a high-end city restaurant underpaying staff. It’s business as usual, with many of the underpaid staff on migrant visas or in other vulnerable positions.
But it would be a mistake to believe that country workers are in a better position than their city counterparts with wage theft common in the hospitality industry here as well.
A friend of mine worked at a local café. She started on $18 an hour, cash in hand. She worked five days a week, including Saturdays. After three months her pay went up to $20.
The hospitality award shows a minimum pay rate of $25 an hour for casuals. On Saturdays it’s $30 an hour. Employers are also required to pay 9% superannuation.
My friend received no pay slips, no superannuation. She asked several times to “go on the books”. The café owner said yes but nothing changed.
I estimate these respectable business people stole several thousand dollars from her over the year. They stole similar amounts from every one of their workers.
By the time my friend left, after almost a year, there had been at least a 200 per cent turnover of staff. At least one made an anonymous complaint to the Fair Work Commission.
The café owners had already had to back pay a former employee at another café they ran.
Yet they continued to underpay. It’s profitable, after all, and there are no penalties if they are caught, beyond repaying the employee the money they are owed.
I won’t name the café here, because I would find it hard to prove my tale in a court of law – there are no written records, after all – but I don’t go there and I tell other people to avoid it, and why.
I’m sure most of us would prefer to patronise businesses where staff are paid fairly, but how do we identify them?
How about making fair wages a marketing point? Let cafes and restaurants that are doing the right thing invite the relevant union in to audit their wage records and speak to staff. If everything is above board, the union issues the business with a sticker, like a Fair Trade sticker, that they can display on their window, giving customers the opportunity to show their support for businesses that treat their staff fairly.
My friend’s experience made me reflect on the decline in pay and working conditions for so many Australians over the past couple of decades.
As did This working life, a chilling account of working poor in the previous edition of the Post in which the writer, Kaz, describes a life of low pay and irregular hours. “There are thousands of workers just like me,” she noted.
I migrated to Australia in 1981, when the place was a worker’s paradise. I couldn’t believe the pay and conditions. And if you got sick of your job, you just wandered into the Commonwealth Employment Service and got another.
It seems to me that many older people, now retired from life-long secure jobs, have little understanding of how vulnerable many working people are today.
I wrote this for them.
My friend received no pay slips, no superannuation. She asked several times to “go on the books”. The café owner said yes but nothing changed.
I estimate these respectable business people stole several thousand dollars from her over the year. They stole similar amounts from every one of their workers.
By the time my friend left, after almost a year, there had been at least a 200 per cent turnover of staff. At least one made an anonymous complaint to the Fair Work Commission.
The café owners had already had to back pay a former employee at another café they ran.
Yet they continued to underpay. It’s profitable, after all, and there are no penalties if they are caught, beyond repaying the employee the money they are owed.
I won’t name the café here, because I would find it hard to prove my tale in a court of law – there are no written records, after all – but I don’t go there and I tell other people to avoid it, and why.
I’m sure most of us would prefer to patronise businesses where staff are paid fairly, but how do we identify them?
How about making fair wages a marketing point? Let cafes and restaurants that are doing the right thing invite the relevant union in to audit their wage records and speak to staff. If everything is above board, the union issues the business with a sticker, like a Fair Trade sticker, that they can display on their window, giving customers the opportunity to show their support for businesses that treat their staff fairly.
My friend’s experience made me reflect on the decline in pay and working conditions for so many Australians over the past couple of decades.
As did This working life, a chilling account of working poor in the previous edition of the Post in which the writer, Kaz, describes a life of low pay and irregular hours. “There are thousands of workers just like me,” she noted.
I migrated to Australia in 1981, when the place was a worker’s paradise. I couldn’t believe the pay and conditions. And if you got sick of your job, you just wandered into the Commonwealth Employment Service and got another.
It seems to me that many older people, now retired from life-long secure jobs, have little understanding of how vulnerable many working people are today.
I wrote this for them.
| I worked hard (WHINY VOICE) “I worked hard for everything I’ve got.” You hear it a lot. Especially in letters to the editor about bloody hopeless “young people”. Don’t get me started. Five minutes in a job. And they chuck it in. Why don’t they knuckle down And get a mortgage Like we did? We worked hard. And bought a house ... Come to think of it, Houses cost bugger all. Especially down this way. And did we really work so hard? Probably not, unless you were a miner or a plumber or a road worker. Even then you got to lean on a shovel and have a smoke and a bit of a yack. You had your rights. The right not to be sacked Unless you did something Absolutely Bloody Stupid (And even then you had to Do it two more times Before you got your final final warning) The right to a living wage. The right to sick pay. The right to holiday pay. Thank god for sickies and RDOs. If you eked `em out you could work four days a week every week for five days’ pay. Just enough to get you through to your four weeks off with your 17 and a half per cent loading. Remember that? Someone explained it to me. When I came to Australia “Stands to reason. When you’re on holiday You need more money to spend.” I couldn’t believe my ears. The place was a workers’ paradise. But that was then. And this is now ... Here’s the way it is today. Forget the holiday pay loading. Because you won’t get holiday pay. Down this way the going rate is $20 an hour. That’s cash in hand. | The boss doesn’t want to worry about Workcover, taxes, super and all that guff. “You’re better off not paying tax,” she tells the kid. It sounds sensible … Until you do the arithmetic No holiday pay. No penalty rates. No casual loading. No super. No sick pay. But who does the arithmetic? Besides, he likes the work. He’s busy, he’s learning heaps, His workmates make him laugh. For his $20 an hour He’s on call six days a week He’s rostered on to start at 10. A text from the boss at 9. “Make it noon.” He’s meant to work till 5. It’s a quiet day. “You can go at 2.” As if she’s doing him a favour. Last week he worked 16 hours And couldn’t pay the rent. He tells the boss “I need more hours.” She looks annoyed. The unspoken: “There are plenty more Where you came from.” He needs a second job But his hours are so Unpredictable How can he get another job? One day he blows his stack. He sends them a text … Just before lunchtime on their busiest day. “Shove it up your arse.” “Good riddance,” she replies and thinks “Ungrateful little shit. After everything I did for him.” He fine tunes the resume And drops it off around the place. There are plenty more jobs. Just like that one. |