Ïîïóëÿðíûå ñîîáùåíèÿ

пятница

An increase in customer demand is spurring Amazon.com to create 80,000 seasonal positions at its network of distribution centers across the U.S.

That's a 14 percent increase over the number of temporary workers it hired last year at this time.

"We're excited to be creating 80,000 seasonal jobs, thousands of which will lead to regular, full-time roles with benefits starting on day one," Mike Roth, Amazon's vice president of North America operations, said in a statement released Thursday.

The giant online retailer said it plans to convert more than 10,000 of its U.S. seasonal jobs into full-time positions.

Seattle-based Amazon now has more than 50 U.S. warehouses, which the company calls "fulfillment centers." By the end of the year, it will have 15 "sortation centers."

What's the difference? Describing a sortation center in Washington state, The Wall Street Journal writes: "Unlike traditional fulfillment centers where employees sort and prepare items for shipment, this warehouse is full of sealed packages that move along conveyor belts, where workers and computers sort them and prepare to ship them to individual post offices."

Amazon said the sortation centers are "fueling a range of innovations like Sunday delivery, later cut-off ordering times for customers and the ability to control packages deeper into the delivery process."

The Associated Press reports that Amazon is hoping to avoid problems that occurred last holiday season when shippers such as UPS were caught off guard by spiking online orders, particularly from Amazon.

Amazon employs 132,600 full and part-time workers globally, according to The Associated Press.

The National Retail Federation forecasts holiday sales will be 4.1 percent higher than last year, to $616.9 billion. If that happens, the group says, it would mark the first time since 2011 that holiday sales rose more than 4 percent.

Amazon.com

Decades ago, an "oops" pregnancy might have meant a rush to the altar. But when Michelle Sheridan got pregnant three years ago, the topic of marriage never came up with her boyfriend, Phillip Underwood, whom she lives with in Frederick, Md.

If anything, it was the opposite.

"It changes the dynamic of the household," she says. "I had a friend who put off her marriage. Got pregnant, and she's like, 'Let's just wait, 'cause we don't know if we're going to be able to make it through this.' "

That attitude reflects a sea change in family life: For the generation under age 35, nearly half of all births are now outside marriage. This family structure, once common mainly among African-Americans and the poor, is spreading across races and into the middle class.

Factor in education, though, and the difference is stark, raising concerns of a new class divide. Among young women without a college degree — those like Michelle Sheridan — 55 percent of births are outside marriage, according to an analysis by the research group Child Trends. For those with at least a four-year degree, it's just 9 percent.

“ I don't want to be in my mid-30s having kids. But I can be in my mid-30s getting married, and it makes no real difference.

- Michelle Sheridan

Like half of all U.S. pregnancies, Sheridan's was not exactly planned.

"We think we mistimed something," she says. "But it wasn't really, like, a bad time, or, I don't know ... it just ... seemed like an OK thing to do?"

"I stared at the pregnancy test for 10 minutes, waiting for it to change," Underwood says.

"But then he got really happy — it was actually really cute," Sheridan says.

It wasn't Sheridan's first child. Her older son, Logan, is 8; his father left before he was born. Michelle spent four years as a single mom before meeting Underwood, and says she felt no stigma or fear about that.

And even though she's now 28 and Underwood is 32, she feels no urgency to tie the knot.

"I don't want to be in my mid-30s having kids," she says. "But I can be in my mid-30s getting married, and it makes no real difference. It's still somebody to spend the rest of your life with."

Like so many children of the 1980s and '90s — the decades when the nation hit its highest divorce rate — both Sheridan and Underwood are also wary about the institution of marriage.

Underwood says when he was a baby — or when his mom was still pregnant, he isn't sure — "my dad left for a loaf of bread and never came back."

Sheridan's parents stayed together but fought a lot.

i i

Diana and Dave Black, both 27, married last year. They're among a shrinking minority of millennials who feel financially secure enough to tie the knot. Jennifer Ludden/NPR hide caption

itoggle caption Jennifer Ludden/NPR

Diana and Dave Black, both 27, married last year. They're among a shrinking minority of millennials who feel financially secure enough to tie the knot.

Jennifer Ludden/NPR

"That was hard to watch," she says. "I don't want to go through that, and I don't want my kids to see it."

Marriage And Money

Money is another factor in the couple's choice not to marry. Sheridan spent years as a restaurant server, then as a pizza delivery driver. She got pregnant just as she had managed to start college full-time, with federal aid. Underwood is a car technician, but he was going through a rough patch, workwise.

"It was so sporadic, and it would go from full-time one week to 20 hours the next," he says.

Their apartment is government-subsidized. Things were so tight at one point that they shared a cellphone.

But isn't marrying young and poor and then working your way up the time-honored way?

"That seems terrifying at this point," Sheridan says. "It's hard enough to work up just on your own."

Instead of marriage being a vehicle into adulthood and stability, young adults now see it as the cherry on top, the thing you do once you're established and financially secure. The problem is, that's become harder to do.

"Fifty years ago, when people graduated high school, they could go out and get a manufacturing job and have a pretty good wage, you know, some benefits," says Arielle Kuperberg, a professor of sociology at the University of North Carolina, Greensboro.

But those wages have been falling since the 1970s, she says, and the unemployment rate for high school graduates today is about double what it is for those with a college degree.

Kuperberg says it's not that lesser-educated couples don't want to wed. She studied the labor market in 20 cities, "and in cities that had better labor markets for people with less education, there was actually a smaller gap in marriage rates," she says.

The Pew Research Center also recently looked at how the labor market is affecting the marriage market in different cities, and found that never-married women overwhelmingly say it's "very important" that a potential spouse have a steady job. But Pew also found only 84 employed single men for every 100 single women among adults ages 25 to 34.

More From The Series

New Boom

Millennials: We Help The Earth But Don't Call Us Environmentalists

New Boom

Getting Some 'Me' Time: Why Millennials Are So Individualistic

Kuperberg worries that a changing economy is making marriage almost a luxury — something only for the better-off.

The Marriage Divide

At the other end of this marriage divide, Diana and Dave Black of Harrisonburg, Va., started dating in college and now have graduate degrees and budding careers.

The couple is among the minority of millennials who feel secure enough to say "I do" — though Dave waited to propose until he got a handle on his student loans.

"I had the bulk of them paid off at that point," he says, "and I felt like I was in a decent place to shell out the additional money for the ring."

They were the first in their social circle to get engaged. Now both 27, neither feels ready for children just yet.

"For me, parenthood is such an enormous responsibility," Diana says. "and the longer I give myself, I feel like the better prepared I'll be."

But that doesn't mean they're not planning. They recently bought a four-bedroom house with a big yard out back and good schools nearby. And upstairs is a perfect child's room, complete with secret passage.

"This door here goes to the attic," says Diana, "so for a kid, that would feel very Harry Potter-tastic, I think!"

Two different stories, two couples who each say they're acting in the best interests of their children — or future children. But researcher Kuperberg says this class divide in marriage could mean even more inequality in the next generation.

The problem, she says, is not that people are having kids without being married. It's that in the U.S., on average, unwed couples are far more likely to split up by the time their child is 5 — and research shows that can have a host of negative impacts on children.

"It leads to some behavioral problems," Kuperberg says. "It can lead to academic problems. It just leads to kind of less of a sense of stability, which hurts their chances later on."

Of course, it doesn't always happen that way.

Earlier this year, Phillip Underwood landed a steady job as a car technician at Wal-Mart. He says that made him think differently about proposing to Sheridan.

"I know every week I will be working 40 hours," he says. "I'm not making the most money in the world, but we're not financially tight."

"We have diapers, and everybody eats," Sheridan says, laughing. "And we can drive if we need to drive somewhere."

By the end of his first month on the new job, Underwood had bought a ring. Sheridan said yes. Since then, he's landed an even better job, and the couple has set a wedding date: next June.

income disparity

Millennials

Income

Income Gap

parenthood

Parenting

Marriage

relationships

Phil Mortillaro and his son, Philip Jr., run Greenwich Locksmiths in Manhattan. The elder Mortillaro has been practicing the trade since he dropped out of school after eighth grade.

"I was one of those kids who would show up when school first started," Phil tells his son on a visit to StoryCorps in New York. "Then they would see me again around Christmas time. And then they would see me in June to tell me that I had to do the grade over again. So dropping out of school was — it was inevitable."

If eighth grade seems young to learn the trade, Philip, 27, started even younger. He says he's been doing it ever since he could walk, and his father says he's been around it since infancy.

"I've got pictures of you in the shop when you were in the bassinet," Phil says.

Philip remembers how fascinated he was by his father's job when he was kid. His dad was a fixture in the neighborhood.

"I was literally there since day one," Philip says. "I saw you do it, I was like, 'Ok, I can do this.' Then I kind of realized, man — everyone loves my dad. One half of that is 'cause he's a great guy, but the other half is, like — he's the guy who helps you when even other locksmiths can't help."

Phil says he's always had an inherent desire to solve problems. "I have a sense of usefulness," says Phil, 64. "And that's a big thing in my noodle; you always have to feel like I have some worth."

Phil is first-generation American and says his work ethic comes from growing up with immigrant parents.

"You can never work hard enough," Phil says. "Even when you're working seven days a week they say you're a little lazy. Think about it Philip: When am I ever late?"

"Never," Philip responds.

"When do I ever take vacations?"

"No, never," Philip replies.

"And when am I gonna retire?"

"One day before your funeral?" Philip asks.

"You know it," Phil laughs.

Phil's own father didn't like the locksmith business. He says his father always compared him to his cousin, who, in his eyes, chose a more practical profession.

"My father, he hated my business, man," Phil says. "You know, I had a cousin who became an accountant, and my father used to tell me about him all the time.

"But I think it was the founder of IBM [who] said, 'I'm no genius, but I'm bright in spots, and I stay around those spots.' I like that," Phil adds.

"You raised all of us, man," Philip says. "Five kids and every single one of them did not ever want for anything, man. That's hard to do for someone who just went up to the eighth grade."

"Well, you do your best kid," Phil says. "This is what you do. But honestly your best — not just a B.S. best. And even if you fail, it doesn't feel that bad."

"You're always my barometer," Philip responds. "You never let anyone down. That's what sets you apart."

Audio produced for Morning Edition by Liyna Anwar.

StoryCorps is a national nonprofit that gives people the chance to interview friends and loved ones about their lives. These conversations are archived at the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress, allowing participants to leave a legacy for future generations. Learn more, including how to interview someone in your life, at StoryCorps.org.

"I'm just a hand liner. I put lines on," says Kevin Manypenny. He's been working here for nearly 40 years.

He twirls a plate, dips a brush in brown glaze and paints three delicate lines on the plate's edge. Fiesta is about half of Homer Laughlin's business — the other half is dinnerware for hotels, and the sturdy plates and cups you find at chain restaurants. The plate he's working on is for a Boston restaurant.

Manypenny and seven of his eight siblings — and their parents — have worked at this factory. And there are dozens of families like theirs. Brothers founded the company: Homer and Shakespeare Laughlin — presumably a literary family — jumped on a new fashion for a whiter, more refined dinnerware.

"They were the young whippersnappers in the pottery world, and they were the ones who ended up successfully firing four kilns worth of whiteware before any of the other potteries could, and then they won a prize of $5,000 ... and that's what launched the Laughlin brothers into pottery production on a big scale," says Sarah Vodrey of the Museum of Ceramics across the river in East Liverpool, Ohio, where Homer Laughlin used to be based.

Around the turn of the 20th century, the factory changed hands. The new team built a plant on the West Virginia side of the river, and those long, low factory buildings are still in use today.

Then, in the 1930s, the company created Fiesta: inexpensive, colorful, cheerful dinnerware. It was a hit even in the Depression. In 1948, Homer Laughlin really stepped up the production of plates and bowls. The company designed and built its own machine inside the factory. Dave Conley, a longtime employee and unofficial company historian, calls it "the big, flat automatic."

Credit: The "big, flat automatic" machine allows Homer Laughlin to mass produce multiple types of items at once. (Ross Mantle for NPR)

"You've got three machines here, and each one has two heads on it, so theoretically we could be making six different items at a time," he says. Conley says that's 3,000 dozen pieces — or 36,000 pieces of pottery — every eight-hour shift. (People who make dishes talk in dozens.)

There have been improvements. Computers control the firing now. 3-D printers speed the design process. Ceramic engineers found a way to make glaze shiny without using lead — all in house.

"The people that owned our company have always put profits back into the plant to modernize, and we've always had state of the art equipment [like the big, flat automatic], and I call that state of the art even though that's as old as it is — it's almost 60 years old," Conley says.

Credit: Fiesta salt shakers are sent down the line to be glazed. (Ross Mantle for NPR)

Fiesta Revival

Inside the old buildings, with fog pouring off the Ohio River and drifting into the windows, the ware comes out of the fire, magically transformed — creamy orange, intense red, vivid turquoise. Bright pottery is stacked in bins and crates and piled all over the place.

"I remember the first time I actually went to the facility, and I'm looking around and I'm thinking, 'Boy, am I back in the 1940s or what?' I mean, even the office, it isn't all spruced up," says Bruce Smith, the head of the union representing the pottery workers. "It's the old look, and they're focused on making product and not being flashy." He says while nothing about Homer Laughlin is flashy, the workers do make decent money.

Calling All Fiesta Fans

Do you have a Fiesta collection or a favorite Fiesta dish? Take a picture, tag it #nprfiesta on Instagram, and we may feature it on NPR.org.

"They're good jobs and they're making a living, being able to buy a home and raise a family and retire with some dignity," Smith says.

Both management and labor consider that an achievement.

"I'm very proud to have kept this business here in the Ohio Valley. That's very important to us," says Elizabeth Wells McIlvain, the first woman to lead Homer Laughlin, and the fourth generation of her family at the plant. Her immediate family now owns most of the business. Her daughter, Maggie, is an intern in the marketing department.

Homer Laughlin stopped producing Fiesta for a time beginning in 1973. A harvest gold color and an avocado green didn't sell. But in 1986, Bloomingdale's came calling, looking for a retro china for its stores, and Homer Laughlin made a typical, practical decision: restart an old line and revive Fiesta for retail sale along with its existing hotel and restaurant business.

"We have two sides of the business, and that's helped us tremendously because it seems when ... the retail side of the business is flourishing, the hotel side is ... having difficulties, and vice versa," McIlvain says.

Pallets of Fiesta pieces are lined up in preparation for an upcoming retail outlet tent sale at Homer Laughlin in Newell, W.Va. Ross Mantle for NPR hide caption

itoggle caption Ross Mantle for NPR

It helps that Fiesta has a big fan base. Collectors stand in line for hours to get into the factory tent sales. Fans meet, they swap, they critique the company's color choices. And they wait for the new Fiesta color unveiled each March. (The color for 2014 is poppy, a bold, saturated orange.)

"They always have suggestions. One year they all wanted fuchsia, and they all arrived to Homer Laughlin to go on their tours dressed in whatever fuchsia they had. That was their silent but very loud statement," McIlvain says.

But she offered no color clues for this coming March. "That's a very deep, dark secret," she says with a laugh.

fiesta

homer laughlin

Blog Archive