Twenty years ago, my children and I had passes to a swimming pool at a well-known boarding school in Dehradun. During the long summer, we made friends with the security guards. At the end of the season, I said goodbye to our favorite, saying we’d meet again the following year.
“Not likely,” he said ruefully. “I’m contract. The minute they stop needing me, I’ll be out of here.” He was right. I never saw him again.
Contract labor had just begun in Dehradun. That same school once employed staff for generations. It was a feudal system, no doubt, but it’s been replaced by something far worse.
As Latika prepares to move into a purpose-built campus, many assume we will outsource maintenance and security. It’s logical. As the experts point out, our skills are in education and therapy. Outsource the rest, they advise. It’s cheaper and more efficient. Quality control is the contractor’s problem, not ours. If someone is sick, “replacements” will be sent.
The flip side? No unions, health insurance, paid leave or retirement plans. Termination without notice.
India’s Contract Labour Act is meant to prevent exploitation. It provides contract workers with pay, leave & benefits on par with that of permanent staff. But 11 month contracts are notorious; safety regulations are mostly ignored. Desperate workers agree to illegal arrangements.
But even if the law was implemented and workers got a living wage, safety, paid leave and benefits, contract labour is still fatally flawed. A job means more than a pay check and security. Contract labor disconnects workers from each other and from the fruits of their labour: purpose, contributing to the community, fulfilment.
For an organization that believes every person has something to give, contract labour is a mismatch. Though our own building is being constructed by contract workers, contracting that is the right choice. The team building our campus would have nothing to do when it’s done.
But we’ll always need a maintenance crew – to mop the floors, clean the toilets and wash the windows; guards to open the gates & help visitors with information and gardeners to water the plants and tend to the lawns. Aren’t they part of our core team? How can we separate them from our “real” staff? Is their work not important?
Should they not interact with the children whose school they are cleaning, beautifying and protecting? Should they not enjoy the satisfaction of growing with Latika and seeing their work is valued and people know their names?
Inclusion is messy and complex because no one’s life is perfect. Everyone gets sick. Everyone has good days and bad and we all need help at times. Every one of us, without exception, needs to know we’re making a contribution.
Latika is not just an institution. It’s a vision. A vision of a better world, of a world that works for everyone.
