● AMERICASORG● The man Who Took my Job: A NAFTA Journey By Dan baum Originally published in Rolling Stone April 27, 2000 David Quinn spent what President Clinton calls" the longest period of economic growth in our entire history"tumbling down the economic ladder-from having a shot at being the first in his family to get a college degree to living a life of working poverty. David is twenty-six, a shy, unassuming man more attuned to rock roll and classical guitar than to global politics, and his response to career calamity was simply to scale down his expectations and soldier on So while one could argue that Davis was forced out of college in 1997 because Clinton and Congress failed to reform health care, David would just say he was unlucky. He needed expensive oral surgery that his student health plan wouldnt cover, so he abandoned his education and took a union job(witl good medical insurance) making automobile steering wheels for Breed Technologies, outside Fort Wayne, Indiana. Davids father had been a union welder, and his grandfather had worked in the very same union plant, and David figured that as a consolation prize for giving up college, he at least had a secure gig. Higher education had been a stretch anyway, and he had $12,000 worth of student debt to prove it. He moved in with a woman he'd met in Spanish class, Alyssa Lewandowski, had his upper jaw sawed off and repositioned to correct a bad bite, and began thanking about buying a house. All day he pumped molten plastic into a chest-high mold and pulled out blazing-hot steering wheels. In his off hours, he coaxed fluid blues riffs from his Stratocaster guitar. It wasnt all he'd dreamed of, but David started settling into the blue-collar life Less than a year later, in March 1998, David was unemployed again. Breed closed the factory and fired all 455 workers-not because of a drop in sales, but because the company figured it could make steering wheels more cheaply in Mexico. All around him factories were closing, and David wasn't able to find another union job. He ended up delivering pharmaceuticals to discount stores for sever dollars an hour, no benefits and no future. Then he and Alyssa had a baby One day alyssa said, We're out of diapers, and without a word David took his beloved Strat to a pawn shop, sold it for a quarter of its value and stopped for a pack of Kimbies on the way home Still, he didn t get angry. A companys got a right to do what it wants, was how he put it Davids job at Breed was sacrificed to corporate globalism, specifically to the North american Fr trade Agreement, or NAFTA, which turned six years old on January Ist. By easing rules and erasing tariffs, NAFTA makes it easier for American companies to do their manufacturing in Mexico, where the minimum wage is about $3.75 a day and enforcement of safety, labor and environmental standards is notoriously lax Breed aggressively pursued these advantages. The company was founded in 1987, in Lakeland Florida, the brainchild of an engineer who had worked on triggers for the military and then appliedAMERICAS.ORG The Man Who Took My Job: A NAFTA Journey By Dan Baum Originally published in Rolling Stone April 27, 2000 David Quinn spent what President Clinton calls “the longest period of economic growth in our entire history” tumbling down the economic ladder – from having a shot at being the first in his family to get a college degree to living a life of working poverty. David is twenty-six, a shy, unassuming man more attuned to rock & roll and classical guitar than to global politics, and his response to career calamity was simply to scale down his expectations and soldier on. So while one could argue that Davis was forced out of college in 1997 because Clinton and Congress failed to reform health care, David would just say he was unlucky. He needed expensive oral surgery that his student health plan wouldn’t cover, so he abandoned his education and took a union job (with good medical insurance) making automobile steering wheels for Breed Technologies, outside Fort Wayne, Indiana. David’s father had been a union welder, and his grandfather had worked in the very same union plant, and David figured that as a consolation prize for giving up college, he at least had a secure gig. Higher education had been a stretch anyway, and he had $12,000 worth of student debt to prove it. He moved in with a woman he’d met in Spanish class, Alyssa Lewandowski, had his upper jaw sawed off and repositioned to correct a bad bite, and began thanking about buying a house. All day he pumped molten plastic into a chest-high mold and pulled out blazing-hot steering wheels. In his off hours, he coaxed fluid blues riffs from his Stratocaster guitar. It wasn’t all he’d dreamed of, but David started settling into the blue-collar life. Less than a year later, in March 1998, David was unemployed again. Breed closed the factory and fired all 455 workers – not because of a drop in sales, but because the company figured it could make steering wheels more cheaply in Mexico. All around him factories were closing, and David wasn’t able to find another union job. He ended up delivering pharmaceuticals to discount stores for seven dollars an hour, no benefits and no future. Then he and Alyssa had a baby. One day Alyssa said, “We’re out of diapers,” and without a word David took his beloved Strat to a pawn shop, sold it for a quarter of its value and stopped for a pack of Kimbies on the way home. Still, he didn’t get angry. “A company’s got a right to do what it wants,” was how he put it. David’s job at Breed was sacrificed to corporate globalism, specifically to the North American Free trade Agreement, or NAFTA, which turned six years old on January 1st. By easing rules and erasing tariffs, NAFTA makes it easier for American companies to do their manufacturing in Mexico, where the minimum wage is about $3.75 a day and enforcement of safety, labor and environmental standards is notoriously lax. Breed aggressively pursued these advantages. The company was founded in 1987, in Lakeland, Florida, the brainchild of an engineer who had worked on triggers for the military and then applied