America Rediscovers the Working Class
by Beth Birnbaum

During World War II my father was a soldier and a deep-sea diver who removed or planted mines on the sides of ships or bridges. After the war, he was a union fireman for 20 years, then a municipal hospital administrator — a job as vital, and in many ways as dangerous, as his previous ones.

But for all his adventures, his last advice to my husband before he died was to not do what he did, but rather to go for the bucks. When you were rich and gave money, he said, you were a humanitarian, and they even named something after you. When you worked, no one cared.

He had seen respect for working people diminish and practically disappear under Reagan, and it hurt him as much as the cancer within him. In the '80s, the working class seemed to disappear.

But if anything, Sept. 11 has led to America's rediscovery of the working class. Many, especially the media, seemed shocked to learn that everyone hadn't left the material world for the virtual one, or shed their working-class existence for an affluent lifestyle when their jobs were shipped overseas.

CNN's Jeff Greenfield, appearing on "The Daily Show," expressed shock at the heroism of the Generation X and Y firefighters, paramedics, police officers and ordinary citizens who risked and gave their lives to save others, and who continue to work to help overcome the destruction. He had assumed that only members of the recently titled "Greatest Generation" could be brave, heroic or even competent.

George W. Bush, touring the site soon after the attacks, was moved by the hundreds of people selflessly digging through the dangerous rubble, searching for victims without regard to income levels, race, color, creed, sexual orientation, religion, political affiliation or national origin. In blood donation centers, thousands desperate to help are finally defining themselves as Americans, without tacking on other hyphenated labels. Identities that for decades have divided Americans into discrete, competing, interest groups are suddenly meaningless.

As citizens mourn, the media continue to give tribute to each life lost, without caring whether the victim made the minimum wage or was a CEO. What counts now is a person's character, the good he or she accomplished, the love he or she engendered — not someone's portfolio. Each death is a staggering loss to each of us, not just those who knew and loved them. For now, the self-centered exploits of celebrities aren't important. What counts is what they're doing for our nation during this time of crisis.

I wish there were some way, without the terrible events that brought these feelings to the surface, for my father to see how others ultimately valued his principles and the contribution he made during his life; the same contribution that so many others have given, and continue to give. This lesson must be a permanent one, never again to be forgotten and discarded by greed, along with his real last words, which was to always do what you had to do for your children, no matter what.

I know my father didn't really want personal credit, or a monument. What he wanted was our nation to care for, respect and value every citizen, whatever his or her job or background. Now that we've started, we must continue well beyond this crisis to value the legacy of the people that build, maintain, and keep our country alive. The greatness of our nation is that it needs, and can meet the needs, of us all. Our past, and the history we are now writing, lead to the future. Whoever else we are, we are Americans, and every generation is our greatest.

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