Doing the Dishes

I grew up in a household without a dishwashing machine until I was nearly in high school.  My sister and I, one year apart, were the dishwashers from the time we could reach the sink standing on a stool.  It filled a spot on our chore chart for our household, and since dad's work time bought the food for dinners and mom's work time made the dinners, it seemed reasonable to us that our work time would be the clean up after dinner.   

This became a place where the two of us would work out our sibling relationship in many ways: trading off the washing / drying duties, bickering over little things, racing to get ahead of the other, and in a lasting way, seeing how our ability to work as a team would benefit us.   

 Because doing the dishes was the after dinner but before evening tv shows routine, our ability to get the job done quickly and efficiently was up against missing the start of a favorite tv show.  For those of you who are not in your sixties, this was a time before shows just sat out in the internet-cloud waiting for you to stream on your device, and even recording shows to watch later hadn't arrived.  If you missed a show, you'd have to wait until it re-ran in the summer.  The pressure was on, and when those opening theme songs started (oh, they're forever locked into my memory) the panic would begin as we scrambled to get the last dishes away, or bargained for who would stay and who could take off for the living room.   Mind you, the kitchen was just around the corner from our living area and one could hear the shows, just not see them, what a terrible punishment.

Doing the dishes with my grandmother-next-door was a totally different event.  When we were staying over with her for lunch or dinner, tv wasn't ahead of us, so the pace changed.  Dishwashing was grandma's time to just chat with us as she took on the washing and we were tasked with drying and putting away dishes, which usually meant having to ask where things went.  It was a leisurely time and included moments of surprise as we opened cabinets or drawers and found other things to distract us.  Eventually, we'd come across some treats hidden away and grandma would smile and agree that yes, some treats after dinner was probably a good idea.

Perhaps it was this childhood training time that meant my first job (after lawn mowing for neighbors and baby-sitting) would be as a dishwasher.  I heard about the job through an older friend at church who had a job cooking at our local Bridgeman's restaurant.  I had already been given a position helping at my church as a custodian on the weekends cleaning up after weddings and services, and as a high schooler was pretty active in afterschool sports, music, and theater, but at 16, I had bought a car and was trying to find ways to support my family and myself after my father's death the year before.  It became my first real job, with a punch in time clock, uniform, and a 20-minute unpaid break where I'd inhale a quart of ice cream using my employee discount.

The dishwasher position at Bridgeman's started as a couple nights a week using a commercial unit that made me feel important despite the ways in which I had heard dishwashing was a lowly job.  The long stainless steel receiving and drying trays, the stack of washing racks, the hose sprayer and the fancy washing unit with its spray arms and filters and screens created a space I felt proud of.  It probably also helped that the waitresses took a liking to me and brought back "mistakes" from the ice cream line for me quite often.

My ability to speed through a collection of dishes with good humor and efficiency was most likely the way in which I was being tested out for taking on more roles at the restaurant, first in the prep area and then on the cook line itself.   It was not long before I had stepped into a role as a lead cook, training and supervising new staff members and supporting the new dishwashing staff.  Having been a dishwasher myself, I had empathy for them and also could help them see how that position could lead to another if they were interested.

It's been said in jest that when you can't pay for your dinner at a restaurant, you can always ask to do dishes as payment.  It plays on the story that restaurants are always struggling to keep up with dish washing and dishwasher positions are usually unfilled.   At Butter Bakery, I started the restaurant without offering dishwashers as a position (although the rest of the staff often gently nudged me to do so).  Dishwashing at the shop has been shared by everyone on the team.  I wanted dishwashing to be seen as part of what we do, not a separate task handled by someone else and that I'd be part of that dishwashing team as well.  

I recognize that by not offering a dishwasher position, I may miss out on bringing in people for a first job opportunity, but our participation in internship efforts with Nicollet Square have filled this role by creating work experience for many who had little or no background in a restaurant and this training time has always included time for me to share how to do the dishes. Over the years, this has made all of us value the task and recognize how it helps keeps the shop running. 

These days, it feels like I'm doing dishes because I can't pay for dinner.  As I've struggled to manage cash flow, dropping a few scheduled payroll hours here and there to save cash, leads to less time for my staff to get dishwashing completed and more time for me to do dishes.   I'm more than happy to be back in our dish-land, quietly resetting the balance of clean dishes and being a support to my staff.  In a very public space like a restaurant, this is one space that gives me time away.  Like many staff, this away time is a good break and change of pace.  Yet, there are times I've been left with dishes that I wasn't planning on doing or that pull me away from tasks I'd rather be finishing.  Those are times when I can forget the gift that the quiet focus time can give me.

I am trying to lean into all the positive connections I have with washing dishes instead of feeling down about the ways the shop has struggled to maintain a solid staffing level.  And as the quieter winter months settle in, additional reductions in our staffing and services do bring me down.  In the midst of so much joy and love being displayed and spread, it becomes my challenge to soak in that joy in each interaction at the cafe, and in each dish I rinse, scrub and wash.  Sometimes, as I'm washing, I come across a plate and can remember who ordered that particular meal, leading me to offer a silent thank you for their choice to dine with us that day.

This winter, I'm hoping to find a way for you to be a bigger part of our team, alongside us doing the dishes.  I'm pulling together a donation request for Butter Bakery as we try to create a solid foundation for year 20 and onward here on the corner of Nicollet and 37th.  Our mission efforts to train, model sustainability, and advocate for stronger workplace policies will be even more important and necessary over these next few years.   I hope you'll consider getting your hands into the dishwater with a donation to our social benefit enterprise.   Watch our website for ways to participate.

If this green path has brought you joy along your travels, keep walking with us, we are still on the journey.