Chabeli Carrazana, 19thnews.org

The hidden face of the working class both parties keep forgetting

Congressional candidate JoAnna Mendoza can quickly rattle off prices from the grocery store in the small town of Eloy, Arizona, where she grew up. A couple of months ago, a pound of ground beef was going for about $13, a tomato was $1.50 and “a freaking cucumber was like $3.”

This story was originally reported by Chabeli Carrazana of The 19th. Meet Chabeli and read more of their reporting on gender, politics and policy.

She knows because she’s a single mom to a 10-year-old, and she’s struggled with the same things most working women are facing: finding a steady job, a good pediatrician and childcare that isn’t going to break the bank. Mendoza’s parents were farmworkers, and she spent 20 years in the military because there were few economic opportunities for her back home. Now she’s running for a seat in the U.S. House to represent Arizona’s 6th congressional district.

Working class people, and especially women, like Mendoza, have rarely had a seat at the political table, though they make up nearly half of working-class voters, the group Republicans desperately want to cling onto and that Democrats hope to draw back.

It’s a group that is more diverse now than it’s ever been. Gone are the days when the only image of a working-class voter was a blue-collar White man who works in a factory and drives a truck, though that is still who politicians often pander to.

Political messaging that speaks to the everyday needs of the diversifying working class could recapture the interest of the group, which has long been disillusioned by political candidates who don’t actually understand them.

Definitions of what makes a working-class voter differ depending on who you ask. If it’s education — those who have less than a bachelor’s degree — then nearly half of the working class is women; in parts of the country, most of them are also people of color, said Valerie Wilson, a labor economist at the Economic Policy Institute who has studied working-class people. If working-class voters are those working low-wage jobs, then they are already majority women, who occupy two-thirds of the 40 lowest-paid occupations.

“The sort of traditional view of ‘working class’ was a White man in a hard hat, a construction worker, maybe someone who was in manufacturing,” Wilson said. That’s gone now as those jobs have disappeared and service-sector jobs dominated by women have become the primary field for people without college degrees. Working-class people are now mostly service, retail and care workers, a group often forgotten in political and economic conversations in part because the work has been seen as gendered labor, though they have a front seat to most of the financial troubles that have plagued the country over the past several years. You don’t have to tell women, who do the majority of consumer purchases in this country, that groceries and gas are more expensive. They’ve lived it.

A fundamental misunderstanding of working-class voters — and the messages that resonate with them — caused Democrats to fumble their advantage with this group in recent years. Twenty years ago, Democrats enjoyed a 14-point advantage with voters who didn’t have a bachelor’s degree. By 2024, Republicans had a 6-point advantage instead. In the 2024 presidential election, working-class voters favored President Donald Trump by 14 points.

Republicans have effectively understood that their voters want good, secure jobs that allow them to live independently and support their family. Working-class voters respect people who talk to them directly — Trump’s “straight talk” — and those who have been successful through their own hard work, social inequality expert Joan C. Williams argued in 2016.

“What they want is what my father-in-law had: steady, stable, full-time jobs that deliver a solid middle-class life to the 75% of Americans who don’t have a college degree. Trump promises that,” Williams wrote after Trump was elected in 2016. “I doubt he’ll deliver, but at least he understands what they need.”

A decade later, Trump indeed has not delivered on many of his economic promises. His second term has been dominated by war in Iran and aggressive tariff policies that have driven up prices rather than balanced trade, as he promised. That has eroded Trump’s advantage with his strongest working class supporters, White people, who now disapprove of his handling of the economy.

Democrats see an opening this midterm cycle. A recent poll found that adults who self-describe as working class expect progressive Democrats to best represent their interests, followed by moderate Republicans. Working-class women already tend to skew more progressive than men: Every racial subgroup of working-class women, except White women, favored Kamala Harris over Trump in 2024.

This year, Democrats, more than Republicans, have put up women working-class candidates who have both a personal background and message that could connect with voters. It’s something of a litmus test for the Democratic Party: Can working-class women candidates help them win back working-class votes?

For her part, Mendoza said she’s not a fan of the Democrats’ messaging.

“Can Democrats just be normal and not have to use $50 words to talk to people?” Mendoza said. “Spending 20 years in the military, retiring from the Marine Corps, I personally drop about 20 to 30 f-bombs a day,” she said. “Sometimes you gotta throw an f-bomb.”

She approaches conversations with voters the way she talks to the moms of the children on her son’s little league baseball team. They’re worried about the cost of child care, which is so expensive that it doesn’t even make sense to get back into the workforce even though they could use the extra income. They’re worried about school supplies and utility bills, just like Mendoza, who spent more than $100 on her son’s supplies this summer and $391 on her most recent electric bill.

“The majority of women are what I like to call the chief financial officers of their families, and they’re sitting here trying to figure out how they’re going to make ends meet,” Mendoza said.

Williams argued in her book “Outclassed: How the Left Lost the Working Class and How to Win Them Back” that Democrats have focused too much on college-educated liberals and forgotten about working-class people. The messages became about policies that would help people advance in their jobs instead of policies that supported people who worked hard and just wanted to earn a living.

For working-class voters, including women, class can trump gender as the determining factor behind a vote. Look at the 2016 presidential race: White working-class women voted for Trump over Hillary Clinton by a 27-point margin.

“Working-class women are working-class people, something upper-middle-class women often forget,” Williams said. Their preferred candidate: another working-class person.

If Democrats pay attention, future cycles may have more candidates like Kaela Berg, a flight attendant and single mom who ran for a highly contested seat representing Minnesota’s 2nd congressional district in the U.S. House. Before she lost her primary in August, she was running her campaign between flights, talking about living paycheck to paycheck, going without health insurance during the pandemic and at one point living in a friend’s basement. She never graduated college and has long been active in her union.

“I don't have to look at a white paper on affordability. I know people are struggling and that this economy is hurting people,” Berg told The 19th.

Polling by Emily’s List, which works to elect Democratic women who support abortion rights, has found that women are more likely than men to be struggling financially, more likely to say they are looking for candidates who will fight for them and also more likely to blame Washington for their financial struggles.

“It was very clear based on that research that driving wins in this environment, in this economy, was really going to hinge on putting leaders in front of voters who truly get it, truly understand their struggles. And the reason for that is because the depth and breadth of people's financial struggle is really stark,” said Jessica Mackler, the president of Emily’s List.

The past couple of years have been particularly challenging for working-class women in the economy. They returned to work in high numbers after the pandemic, benefiting from a climate in which businesses were offering better benefits, more flexibility and higher pay, which allowed them to move into good jobs. But those improvements were short-lived.

“We're seeing a pretty stunning reversal of that that is impacting the real working-class jobs that are sort of manual labor, low-wage, low-education requirement jobs predominantly held by women,” said Kate Bahn, the chief economist and senior vice president of research at the Institute for Women’s Policy Research, a think tank focused on gender and economic equity.

The evidence is in the gender pay gap: After years of shrinking, the gap actually widened over the past two years for the first time since the 1960s.

Working class women are facing a labor market far more unstable than in the last election cycle, and they’re looking for candidates who understand that, voters told The 19th.

Jenny Cook, a paraprofessional who works with special needs children in Oakdale, Minnesota, has been knocking on doors with her union this summer in support of candidates like Peggy Flanagan, who is running to represent Minnesota in the Senate and often talks about growing up in Section 8 housing with a single mother who relied on food stamps.

When she thinks of the candidates who have stuck out, Cook thinks of people like Omar Fateh, who ran for mayor in Minneapolis last year. The fact that he was a renter stayed with her. “That feels like someone who has a lived experience that mirrors mine and many others in a way that I don't know that every politician can really wrap their heads around what that's like,” she said.

For her, it’s not just about someone who understands that rents are high or that groceries are expensive, but about a candidate who understands how destabilizing all those things can be.

Cook often lives paycheck to paycheck and sells plasma or items on Facebook Marketplace to keep up with bills. She offers her own example: Last winter, one of her students had a bed bug situation at home. To try to avoid bringing it home with her after work, she’d toss all her clothes immediately into the dryer so the heat could kill any eggs that may have hitchhiked on her. But, because her dryer was old, the belt broke and she couldn’t afford a new one. So, in the middle of Minnesota winter, she started taking her clothes off in the entryway and throwing them on the front step. On weekends, she’d carry them to the laundromat.

“The amount of sleep I lost, and I just like, I feel like I'm still trying to recover from the financial impact of just that,” Cook said. “I always feel like one crisis away from everything falling apart.”

When she’s out doorknocking, she hears disillusionment. She hears exhaustion. So many people are so stuck in the struggle of day-to-day survival that they can barely plug into politics at all. Few candidates break through the noise.

“It almost feels like, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if I could pay attention to who my candidates are and care on that deep of a level?’” Cook said.

Roxy Hoda, a hospitality worker at Target Field in Minnesota, says affordability is her No. 1 issue. The healthcare costs for her family of four tripled in the past two years. She’s paying $2,100 a month for health insurance with an $8,000 deductible that she already blew through at the start of the year when her 4-year-old son was hospitalized with asthma.

She is also supporting Flanagan, whom she called “a breath of fresh air.”

“As a woman of color that has come from that similar background as me, I know that she understands what it is to be a woman of color in this society,” Hoda said.

It’s the one bright spot that has helped assuage some of her disillusionment with a Democratic Party that she feels has “been too scared to really get emotional.”

For Hoda, it comes down to this: “We just need to know that you understand and you relate, and you're with us and you're fighting.”

'They are hunting us': Childcare workers go underground in DC

From her home-based day care in Washington D.C., Alma peers out the door and down the sidewalks. If they’re clear and there are no ICE agents out, she’ll give her coworker, an undocumented Latina who lives nearby, a call letting her know it's safe to head in for work.

This story was originally reported by Chabeli Carrazana of The 19th. Meet Chabeli and read more of her reporting on gender, politics and policy.

They have to be careful with the kids, too. Typically, she took the five children she cares for to the library on Wednesdays and out to parks throughout the week, but Alma — who is also undocumented — had to stop doing that in August, when President Donald Trump declared a “crime emergency” in the district. Now, two of the kids she cares for are being pulled out of the day care. The parents said it was because they weren’t going outside.

Trump has deployed the National Guard and a wave of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents into the district. ICE arrests there have increased tenfold. The situation has thrust the Latinas who hold up the nation’s child care sector into a perpetual state of panic. Nationwide, about 1 in 5 child care workers are immigrants, but in D.C. it’s closer to 40 percent; about 7 percent nationally are undocumented. Nearly all are women.

Many are missing work, and others are risking it because they simply can’t afford to lose pay, providers told The 19th. All are afraid they’ll be next.

“What kind of life is this?” said Alma, whose name The 19th has changed to protect her identity. “We are not delinquents, we are not bad people, we are here to work to support our family.”

Alma has been running a home-based day care for the past decade. She’s been in the United States for 22 years, working in child care that entire time. With two kids being pulled, she will have to reduce her staffer’s hours as she tries to find children to fill those spots.

Her four school-age children also depend on her. This month, she had to write out a signed document detailing what should happen to her kids if she were to be detained. Her wish is that they be brought to detention with her.

“I can’t imagine my kids here without me,” she said.

She said she understands the president’s approach of expelling immigrants with criminal convictions from the country, but teachers who are working with kids? Who haven’t committed any crime?

By targeting them, she said, the administration is “destroying entire families.”

The Multicultural Spanish Speaking Providers Association in D.C., which works with Latina child care providers, has seen this panic first hand for the past couple of weeks as more and more Latinas in child care have stopped coming into work. The center also helps workers obtain their associate’s degree in early childhood education, and since the semester started in mid-August, many teachers have asked for classes to be offered virtually so they don’t have to show up to campus at night.

Latinas have flocked to the child care industry for multiple reasons: Families seeking care value access to language education, and Latinas have a lower language barrier to entry, said Blanca Huezo, the program coordinator at the Multicultural Spanish Speaking Providers Association.

“In general, this industry offers them an opportunity for a fresh start professionally in their own language and without leaving behind their culture,” Huezo said.

Though the number of undocumented child care workers has historically been low, recent changes from the Trump administration to revoke or reduce legal protections have likely increased it. This year, the administration has narrowed opportunities for claiming asylum at the border, tried to bar certain groups from obtaining Temporary Protected Status and temporarily paused humanitarian protections for groups of migrants, thrusting more workers into the “undocumented” category.

The changes, coupled with increased enforcement, has fostered fear among Latinx people regardless of immigration status. That fear among workers is deepening a staffing crisis in an industry that already couldn’t afford additional losses, Huezo said.

“There is a shortage — and now even more,” she said. “There are many centers where nearly 99 percent of teachers are of Hispanic origin.”

Washington, D.C., has been a sanctuary city since 2020, where law enforcement cooperation with immigration officials was broadly prohibited. Earlier this year, however, Mayor Muriel Bowser proposed repealing that law and, in mid-August, Washington’s Metropolitan Police Department Police Chief Pamela Smith gave officers leeway to share information with ICE about individuals they arrested or stopped.

“There was some peace that living in D.C. brought more security," Huezo said. Now, “people don’t feel that freedom to walk through the streets.”

Child care centers are also no longer off limits for ICE raids. The centers were previously protected under a “sensitive locations” directive that advised ICE to not conduct enforcement in places like schools and day cares. But Trump removed that protection on his first day in office. While reports have not yet surfaced of raids in day cares, ICE presence near child care care centers, including in D.C., has been reported.

A similar story of fear and surveillance has already played out in Los Angeles, where ICE conducted widespread raids earlier in the summer. Huezo said her organization has been in touch with child care providers in L.A. to learn about how they managed those months.

In the meantime, the best the organization can do, she said, is connect workers with as many resources as possible, including legal clinics, but the ones that help immigrants are at their maximum caseload. The group has put child care workers who are not leaving their homes in touch with an organization called Food Justice DMV that is delivering meals to their doorsteps. Prior to last month, people who needed food could fill out a form and get it that same week. Now, the wait time is two to three weeks, Huezo said. For those in Maryland and Virginia, it’s closer to a month.

Thalia, a teacher at a day care, said her coworkers have stopped coming to work. It’s all the staff talks about during their lunchtime conversations. When she rides the Metro into work, she looks over her shoulder for the ICE agents, their faces covered, who are often at the exits.

“They are hunting us,” she said.

Thalia, whose name has been changed because she is undocumented, has been living in the United States for nine years and working in child care that entire time. Like her, many of the Latina teachers she works with have earned certifications and degrees in early childhood education.

“We are working, we are cooperating, paying taxes,” she said. “We are there all day so other families can benefit from the child care.”

As a single mother, Thalia has also had to consider what would happen to her three children if she was detained. This past month, she retained a lawyer who could help them with their case in case anything were to happen. Her school-age kids know: Call the lawyer if mom is detained and get tickets to Guatemala to meet her there.

This is what she lives with every day now: “The fear of leaving your family and letting them know, ‘If I don't return, it’s not because I am abandoning you.’”

Katie Porter -- one of Congress’ only single moms -- has a plan to help caregivers

Rep. Katie Porter, one of the only single moms in Congress with young kids, waded through 2020 like most other parents: without much of a safety net.

She entered her first term representing California's 45th Congressional District in 2019 with three kids — now ages 9, 12 and 15 — and has quickly earned a reputation for fighting for working mothers (and eviscerating witnesses in questioning). This year, much of what she already knew to be true — that child care and school were the flimsy tethers that kept women in the workplace — became acutely obvious to much of the population, parents or not.

This story first appeared at The19th.

President Joe Biden's $1.9 trillion American Rescue Plan includes $130 billion for school reopenings, $25 billion in emergency funds to stabilize the child care industry and a proposal to expand the child tax credit to as much as $3,600 per child, sent via monthly checks, and enhanced so that the poorest families can access the full benefit. His longer-term, $775 billion caregiving plan would stretch for 10 years and provide better wages for care workers and enhance options for home- and community-based care.

It's in that context that Porter has recently reintroduced her Family Savings for Kids and Seniors Act, a bill that would tie to inflation the amount of pre-tax dollars parents can set aside to pay for things like preschool, day care, senior care, summer camp and afterschool care. Currently, the amount is $5,000 — a figure that has remained unchanged since 1986.

Had her bill been adopted in 2020, families could have set aside $11,800 in pre-tax dollars for dependent care.

Porter sat down with The 19th to discuss her bill and what other legislation she feels is essential in carving a path out of the caregiving crisis.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

So much of the story of caregiving this year is a gendered one. Talk to me about being a single mom during the pandemic. It's always been challenging, but what has this past year taught you about caregiving? How did you manage it and how has it informed your priorities moving forward?

My job is somewhat different in that it involved being away from home so much. It's more of a juggle, rather than here or not here. My kids are really good about it. If they hear me talking on a Zoom, they will crawl through the kitchen to the snack cupboard so they don't appear on TV. They've gotten better about those things, just like I've gotten better about how to think about like, in order to make sure that my son gets on his remote schooling, I really can't book anything during those 15 minutes because I won't remember to remind him that he needs to go get on his remote schooling.

I have three kids. One's in high school, one's in middle school, one's in elementary. None of them are in school at the same time. Obviously some of them entertain themselves, whether that's an iPad, or play basketball in the driveway, or playing with toys or reading. But we're definitely kind of straining our Wifi to its maximum.

I definitely have a feeling that I'm never doing just one thing. There was a sense before, when they were in the school, that they really weren't my problem [during school hours]. And now, even if they're on remote school, or whatever, I'm still here. I'm the one they come to if they stub their toe. I'm the one they look to for lunch. It is more of a constant presence and it's tiring that way.

Has it made you think differently about the nature of caregiving? There's not much of an infrastructure for it, but has it informed at all how you want to look at this big problem?

As a single working parent, I was pretty acutely aware of all of this. I have always known that, but for a quality public school system where I know my kids can be safe, I would not be able to work. But for having day care options, this would not not work. I'm fortunate that my children's child care provider has continued to come during COVID, but obviously I can't afford to have him here every hour of every day that I'm working. Do I stretch the budget and try to get the amount of child care that would really represent my need? Or do I live with less and juggle? I think I've definitely been doing the live with less and juggle because I don't have the resources. And I think that is really, really common.

I think for people who are like, 'Gee, the pandemic makes things hard.' I just don't hear parents saying that. It just wasn't news in the sense of like, 'Golly gee, didn't know that.' I think the people who are [saying this] don't understand the level of fear and panic that people who are working parents felt the second schools closed, the second the stay-at-home orders started. Nobody gave a do-not-work order. They gave a stay-home order. And some people have to continue to go physically to work. That presents its own challenges about leaving kids unsupervised. I think a lot of parents question, 'Are you still doing a good job as a parent?' when every day is a question of how much iPad time you're gonna allow.

You've reintroduced your Family Savings for Kids and Seniors Act, which is one of the various bills to address the child care crisis being proposed now. Why did you go this route?

This bill actually was one of the ideas that I came to Congress with. As a working parent, I was fortunate that my employers offered setting aside money that lets you pay for child care tax-free. But it has a limit of $5,000. And it doesn't matter how many children you have.

I remember having my second child, but now my cost has doubled and I still only get $5,000. Then I had a third child. I always thought, 'Who in Washington thought child care costs $5,000?' Even after-school care for late elementary school, fourth or fifth graders, would exceed that. When I got to Congress I talked about wanting to do something about this with my staff. They came back to me with the answer: Ronald Reagan. Because that amount has not been adjusted for inflation since 1986. Child care has really increased in expense.

That bill is not a complete solution. It's just one more tool.

One of the things I like about [the bill] is that it also covers senior care. This pandemic, because of the higher rate of potential death or severe illness to seniors, we've definitely seen people being burned on both ends. Just as there are fewer child care centers, there are also fewer safe options for seniors during this time.

What do you view as the best path forward to ease the incredible burden on caregivers — both parents and professional caregivers for children and seniors? What legislation do you feel we need to enact immediately?

The expanded tax credit for children is incredibly important because parents are facing more expense. They need more child care, if schools are closed or remote schooling or partially open.

One of the things that's exciting to me is starting to see that not as an issue about helping parents or helping women or helping mothers, but as a broad economic issue. Hearing someone like [Treasury Secretary] Janet Yellen talk about women in the workforce, and what they add to GDP, that is incredibly meaningful to me. Sometimes I feel sort of like, you're doing all this work and do people see it and is it valued? And it's really great to have people like Joe Biden talking about this. His caregiving plan — that is part of his Build Back Better. It's not just building back bridges, not just building roads. And to have him talk about caregiving and the caregiving workforce — putting the words caregiving and work even together — I think it's really powerful.

You're known for your tough questioning. I won't make you do it on the spot now, but I am wondering more generally what your response or line of questioning might be for people who say that the expense of child care and elder care as outlined by the Biden administration — some $775 billion total over 10 years — is too costly and should be less ambitious?

We have to apply this, 'How much would it cost?' to look at both acting and not acting. So there's always this sense that it would cost this much to do something, but somehow not acting is free. That's never right. There's a cost to taking a particular action and there's a cost and risk to not taking a particular action. And I think that's something that we need to get much better about spelling out for people. What is the harm of women exiting the workforce and staying out of the workforce? That's a very measurable harm to our GDP, to our global competitiveness, to the development of talent.

I look back at how policies were talked about in some other periods in America: What if we don't put a man on the moon? What does that mean for our global competitiveness? What if we don't invest in science and research or public universities? We always do this, by the way, in national security; what if we don't have this or that or the other thing?

We need to bring that same lens to what is the cost of doing it versus not doing it? And I think [child care] is something where there's a lot more room to improve.

This is also a story of representation, and I know one of your first successes in Congress was passing legislation in the House that would allow candidates to use campaign funds for child care, elder care, dependent care and health care. How do you view the issue of representation now when we are debating topics like child care and better pay for caregivers that would most impact the people in the minority in Congress: women?

Representation does matter. We're currently doing some work around the proposals on the expanded child tax credit — How would it affect married couples versus single parents? Why am I thinking about that? Because I am a single parent. I do think the diversity in Congress — of age, of experience, of career background, geography — matters. But it's not enough just to elect the diversity, you have to also give it a voice.

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