August 2010

Help Support Mott's Workers

During the fourth grade, every Friday we had a “Motts Day.” Yet another example of the superficial attempts made by adults to control children through bribery and sweets, it was a day to reward kids who didn’t get written up every week by allowing them to visit the “Motts Machine” and purchase some sugary juice product to reward them for their good behavior—and to let the “bad kids” sit by and watch solemnly while those who had fifty cents enjoyed their drinks.

Of course, those of us who weren’t written up but didn’t have the money for Motts Day didn’t get a reward, either, which made the whole thing pretty pointless in my eyes. The injustices on all of these levels were not lost on little ten-year-old me, who’d already been to her first protest—for my swim teachers’ union, alongside my mother and many other people—though I still didn’t quite understand the dynamics entirely.