Milwaukee -- Until a few months ago, Zadie Jones' workday
began at the bus stop outside her home on the
city's near north side. Each night, the former welfare
recipient would board the bus at 9:50, ride down
35th Street to Wisconsin Avenue, then transfer to another
bus that took her to her overnight job at a printing company
in Brookfield, a Milwaukee suburb. At her shift's
end the next morning, she would scurry out to catch the
7:10 bus back to the city, repeat the transfer, and arrive
home around 8:00.
After a year of working, by last winter Jones had
saved enough money to make a down payment on a
used Dodge Neon, which she now drives to work. She
says she feels liberated. Still, with her daughter already
14 years old, she says she had it easy compared withother bus-
dependent co-workers and neighbors who
must tote their young children to and from child care before
and after the workday.
Jones' experience illustrates the challenge of reforming
welfare at a time when jobs are moving ever farther
from the nation's inner cities.
Milwaukee is ground zero for Wisconsin's nationally
acclaimed welfare reform efforts. Under "Wisconsin
Works"-- W-2 for short -- welfare cash grants have
given way to an assistance program that requires parents
to work once their children are older than 12 weeks.
The state's thriving economy -- its unemployment rate
in June was a record-low 2.9 percent -- has in theory
opened the way for former welfare recipients to stream
into the workplace. But unlike Jones, who was fortunate
to have a job accessible by bus and didn't have to worry
about child care, many of the city's new "working poor"
have no efficient, manageable way or no way at all --
to get to the suburbs where the jobs are.
Reverse commuting is an old story in the Milwaukee
area; well before W-2 was signed into law, suburban employers
with jobs to fill were starting to recruit workers
from the inner city. Today, though, continued strong economic
growth has compounded their problem. Jobs outside
the city go begging even as a new crop of potential
workers has emerged within it.
In this new environment, transportation and child
care have emerged as the chief obstacles keeping ex-welfare
recipients from becoming full-time workers, says
John Pawasarat, director of the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee's
Employment and Training Institute, which
studies the regional economy and its labor force.
Milwaukee's three surrounding suburban counties
continue to have more job openings than they do available
workers, and Milwaukee continues to have more
job-seekers than available jobs. W-2's core constituents--
women in the cities with preschool-age children --
"do not work full time, particularly in outlying areas, because
they can't put together the child-care/transportation/
employment equation," Pawasarat says.
"No one is going to travel by public transit" to the far-away
suburbs where the jobs are, Pawasarat says, especially
if they have to first get children to and from day
care. Such transit often is too time-consuming, inflexible,
or simply unavailable.
"People's lives are not set on 9 to 5," notes Patrick
Vandenberg of Family Service of Milwaukee, a local social
service agency. "When something goes wrong or
they're 10 minutes late and miss the bus, they're
screwed."
Faced with such circumstances, says Pawasarat,
women leaving welfare generally work part-time in
high-turnover jobs within the range of buses operated by
the Milwaukee County transit system. (The county comprises
the city and about a dozen inner-ring suburbs.)
Indeed, Pawasarat says, transportation status outweighs
even educational attainment as a predictor of
who is most likely to make the leap from welfare to
work. "Having an automobile and a driver's license," he
notes, "are much more important in terms of predictability
of getting and staying employed than even completing
high school."
Milwaukee-area business groups, employers, social service
organizations, and municipal agencies have been
struggling to bridge the welfare-to-work transportation
gap. While much of the focus has been on improving
and expanding public transit, a handful of firms and
nonprofit groups have found innovative ways to help
their employees and clients obtain cars for commuting.
For several years, Quad/Graphics, a locally based
printer of national magazines with nearly 8,000 employees
in southeastern Wisconsin, has provided interest-free
loans of up to $600 to help employees buy or repair a car.
Some 1,446 workers have obtained $897,596 in loans
under the program over the last four years, says Quad
spokeswoman Claire Ho. The company also has invited
representatives of car dealerships to its plants to counsel
employees about car purchases.
"We're a rapidly growing company, and we're constantly
expanding our facilities," Ho says. The company's
local workforce has grown by 25 percent during the
last four years, much of that drawn from Milwaukee.
Other working-poor Milwaukeeans have obtained car
loans through the Ways to Work program operated by
Family Service of Milwaukee and underwritten by the
McNight Foundation. "These are people who could
never get a car loan on their own because their credit is
just so dismal from being on welfare," says Vandenberg,
who oversees the program.
Esperanza Unida, a South Side Milwaukee nonprofit
group that offers job training, has put an unusual spin
on making inexpensive cars accessible to the poor. For 15
years the agency has used donated, often broken-down
cars as hands-on tools in its auto repair job training program.
Typically those cars end up back on the market,
fetching anywhere from several hundred dollars to a
couple of thousand dollars.
For the past three years, Esperanza Unida has been
giving graduates of its training programs which over
the years have included construction work, retailing,
child care, and other entry-level jobs discounts of 50
percent or more on one of the agency's resale cars once
they get a job.
Although the organization lacks the cash flow to finance
a car purchase outright, "for a couple of hundred
dollars we get the student a good-running car," says
Richard Oulahan, the group's director. Having a car can
turn a student's training certificate from a piece of paper
into a ticket to the working class, he adds. "In the construction
trades you have to have a car. They won't apprentice
you unless you have a car."
Esperanza Unida also helps clients get their driver's licenses
reinstated if they've been revoked for traffic infractions
or unpaid parking tickets. That brings up
another issue that troubles some advocates for the working
poor: the so-called problem of "driving while poor."
Low-income workers, their advocates contend, can
ill-afford to pay fines for parking or minor traffic violations.
The fines mount, and their licenses get suspended.
Still needing to get to work, they drive anyway, get
caught, and compound their problems. It's an issue that
State Sen. Gwen Moore, a Democrat whose district represents
Milwaukee's inner city, protested in a letter to
Milwaukee's police chief this past summer.
At the same time, many advocates for the poor express
frustration that government hasn't done more to
make it easier for entry-level workers to get cars. For example,
Oulahan says he has tried to obtain funds from
state and federal officials to expand his agency's new-worker
car discounts, which Esperanza Unida would be
willing to open up to graduates of other training programs.
But so far, federal officials have told him their
hands are tied so long as funding policies are geared to
mass transit. State officials, meanwhile, have yet to use
their federal welfare block grant for such purposes,
Oulahan says.
Other firms and groups, meanwhile, have turned their
attention to improving the region's mass transit systems.
Tecumseh Products Co., for example, makes engines
for lawn mowers and snow blowers at a plant in
Grafton, Wis., an Ozaukee County community north of
Milwaukee. Two years ago the company still drew most
of its manufacturing workers from the surrounding area,
says Don Denis, Tecumseh's human resources manager.
That's changed. Like other expanding county employers,
Tecumseh now depends on a local shuttle bus line,
the Ozaukee Express, to bring in workers from the city
who transfer from Milwaukee County transit system
buses at the Ozaukee County line. Between 30 and 40 of
the plant's workers depend on the shuttle to get to work.
More will likely follow. "These people typically don't
have transportation, or they don't have driver's licenses,"
Denis says. Being on the bus line has become an important
recruitment tool, he adds. "When we put ads in
the paper or go to job fairs, we indicate we're on the
Ozaukee bus route."
Milwaukee County's transit system has also changed
its bus routes in response to reverse commuting trends.
Four years ago, the bus system established a shuttle linking
the northwest corner of the county with industrial
parks in nearby Menomonee Falls, just over the county
line in Waukesha County. With 134 riders a day on average,
the shuttle is one of the transit line's most successful
additions, says Kelly Janes, the system's manager of research
and planning.
In 1995 the transit system, in partnership with
Quad/Graphics, went a step further when it began to
extend routes to serve four Quad/Graphics plants in
outlying Waukesha County. The new routes were timed
to accommodate Quad's 12-hour shifts. Employees ride
free on the company dime for the first month, and at a
discounted $1 fare a 35-cent savings thereafter.
Federal welfare-to-work grants also help to defray some
of the transit system's costs.
Of course, the mismatch between suburban jobs and
urban workers is more than merely a transportation
problem. Lauren Baker, who directs a training program
operated by the printing industry and its affiliated
unions, calls programs that put urban workers in cars or
on buses bound for the suburbs "a Band-Aid solution."
"There's an economic rift between the suburbs and
the city that takes a lot more planning [to mend] than
just a job-ride program or a company saying we're going
to help people buy a car," Baker says. Like many others,
she says the long-term solution is to bring jobs back to
the neighborhoods where workers live.
In the meantime, though, the workers remain in the
city and the jobs remain outside. Getting the two together
has become one of the region's continuing workforce
challenges. And it's not likely to improve in a hurry.