by Miguel Padilla.
PUBLISHED: September 14, 2023 at 2:28p.m. | UPDATED: October 14th, 2023 at 7:18 p.m.
Full-time, part-time, and always looking.
Here in the Inland Empire, warehouses play a vital role in fueling our economy through the distribution of goods, e-commerce, and more. It seems no matter where you are in the IE, you're likely to be near someone who is, or has worked, in a warehouse. A variety of factors, not excluding a demand for unskilled labor, affordable land prices, and other logistical variables, have primed the Inland Empire into becoming one of the “busiest” known “warehouse complexes” (Baertlein, par. 2) in the United States.
I bring this up with a sense of regret, however, as that carries with it a heavy burden. Not only is the city of San Bernardino ranked the worst in the nation for “ozone pollution” (Victoria, par. 4), but our entire county is ranked in the top 10 for worst “particle pollution” (American Lung Association) as of April 2022. We've also fallen victim to excessive noise pollution and traffic congestion, with the overabundance of warehouses in our area only compounding these environmental stressors.
According to a CalMatters article, the Inland Empire had only "234 warehouses" in 1980 (Newton, par. 27)." A number, which pales in comparison to the over 4,000 which exist today. With the Inland Empire seeming to shatter records in all the wrong areas, it begs the question: how did we end up here?
To answer this, I look towards my own personal experience – as I feel there is value to the insight I have gained after working multiple warehouse jobs here in the Inland Empire.
To preface, I feel it’s important to mention that warehouses have always had a presence in my life. I carry fond memories of when my father would collect his paycheck every Friday from his warehouse job in 1999. Those days were a source of immense joy for me. The mall would quickly become my family's go-to destination for some weekend shopping. I remember capturing and cherishing each and every sight along the road trip there. Blinking like a camera's shutter would when snapping a photo, I would take mental ''photographs' just like the protagonist Cam Jenson would in the children's book series "Junie B Jones." On the way to Ontario Mills Mall, these were the sight I would capture: The Kaiser Steel Mill, endless corner lots filled with dirt, a county jail that I thought my parents would throw me into for bad behavior, and finally – what struck me to be the most odd a the time – a blur of well-manicured and almost uncanny, warehouse fronts.
Little did I know that these warehouses would be in my future, and in the future of so many living here. The doctor, the teacher, the air pilot, those would have to wait for someone like me – someone who I quickly learned came from a family full of financial challenges. Who grew up in a family with no college background. Who was born a first generation Mexican-American from immigrant parents. Who was placated with second hand toys from yard sales. Warehouses would be essential to my growth, while funny enough, simultaneously serving as a cornerstone to our nation's economic prosperity. Those warehouses of my imagination, which I could clearly see in my mind's eye from all the trips to the mall, would be the first of many key players in the explosive e-commerce that would dominate the 21st century.
Just as my father still does twenty-four years later, I’ve stayed the course. I've worked in a grand total of 4 different warehouses, with Amazon being my first employer.
Straight out of highschool, and like so many others eager to enter the workforce with little experience, I applied to Amazon in hopes of gaining some financial independence. I spent the next two years of my life at a sort center in San Bernardino, where I felt all manner of growing pains. While many of those pains were personal and private, as it was my first job fresh out of high school, many were intimately connected to warehouse life as well. I would also begin attending Chaffey Community College as a full-time student at the time, finding it a challenge to juggle my energy between school and work. As a student, I learned to dread the commute to my job, while enjoying my commute to school. The contrast between the two was night and day. Not only were the roads often broken on my commute to work deeper into San Bernardino; but the streets along the way would often be closed for repairs for large amounts of time. Exiting onto cracked surface streets was never fun. The deterioration, and general negligence on behalf of the city of San Bernardino, of the streets surrounding the warehouse – were obvious. Large trucks carrying Amazon freight would drive over the roads again and again, making what were once quiet, blue-collar neighborhoods, into the stomping grounds for diesel trailers unfit for smaller roads. Whenever it would rain, I’d come to expect dozens of pot holes and craters waiting for me on my commute back. While the drive was terrible, life at my job wasn't so bad.
Amazon, overall, was good to me. I would go on to receive my first paycheck, and many more after. The work, while physically demanding at times, was easy enough for a young adult like me to labor through. I would make dozens of friends along the way as well, which helped break the monotony of warehouse work. Many laughs would be shared over dirty amazon boxes, concrete floors, and pallet jacks – of which I am most grateful for above all else. The money became enough for someone like me to lose sight of education soon thereafter. I dropped out of Chaffey in 2020, and just like the many hundreds who have worked there for years, I suddenly became accustomed to being on my feet for hours on end each day, and coming home to a bed feeling sore and exhausted as I aged through my early to mid 20’s.
As 2023 looms ever closer to an end as I write this, I’ve managed to graduate from Valley College with two associates, thanks to having somehow managed to stumble back towards higher education in recent years.
Now learning of my history, I instead ask readers these questions.
Is the American dream dying here in the Inland Empire? When so many of us are relying on entry level warehouse positions for financial security? When we lack the family connections, or inherited wealth, to live a comfortable life away from physical labor?
I remain committed to the hope of a brighter future for those like me who labor tirelessly in warehouses in pursuit of something greater.
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