Work is an effort to do something meaningful with time. If our perspective on it is skewed, then that can change—and perhaps it should—but work itself is not ev

Work is an effort to do something meaningful with time. If our perspective on it is skewed, then that can change—and perhaps it should—but work itself is not evil, nor should we redefine the word to be so construed. As W. Edwards Deming said, "All anyone asks for is a chance to work with pride." Prideful, real work—work that produces joy for the worker and results in something of value—is virtuous. The real problem is structural. A requirement of working with pride is to be a part of an organization that treats employees well and enables that pride, and removes all barriers to it. They must seek a quality product and a valuable result as a primary goal. This is why Deming advocated for Quality as a first principle, and why his system was so functional and correct. It took into account primarily the need for every individual in the organization to take pride in work. Learn more -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W._Edwards_Deming http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W._Edwards_Deming And to sum this up, never a better time for this poem: To be of use – by Marge Piercy http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2006/09/04 http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2006/09... The people I love the best jump into work head first without dallying in the shallows and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight. They seem to become natives of that element, the black sleek heads of seals bouncing like half-submerged balls. I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart, who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience, who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward, who do what has to be done, again and again. I want to be with people who submerge in the task, who go into the fields to harvest and work in a row and pass the bags along, who are not parlor generals and field deserters but move in a common rhythm when the food must come in or the fire be put out. The work of the world is common as mud. Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust. But the thing worth doing well done has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident. Greek amphoras for wine or oil, Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums but you know they were made to be used. The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.