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Op-ed: "The Face of Child Labor"
By Hayden Kantor, Hart Fellow 2005-2006
This op-ed appeared on November 18, 2005, in the Dallas Morning
News and the Raleigh News & Observer.
When we arrived that morning in Bhat Basti, a crowd of excited
children swarmed around our jeep before I could even open the door.
One of them was a pretty 12-year-old girl named Raju.
Raju spends her days toiling in the cavernous quarries
of India near this cramped mining village that's sprung up on the
scorched earth. Persistent droughts forced Raju's family to migrate
to the city for work. But after laboring in the mines, her father
died of silicosis, or occupational lung disease. When her mother
fell sick earlier this year, the burden of supporting the family
fell to Raju.
She now earns 50 rupees – about $1.25 in U.S. dollars –
for each 12-hour day of clearing rubble from the bottom of the mine.
Because her low caste status limits her opportunities and the dominating
mine owners limit her freedom, Raju is never likely to escape this
cycle of poverty.
I met Raju as part of my work as a researcher for Gravis, a local
nongovernmental organization that works to empower the rural poor
in India (see www.gravis.org.in for more information).
As community members told me her story, Raju sat on the ground
beside us, tracing shapes in the sand with her hands. I tried to
imagine those same hands carrying stones to a truck. Then I didn't
want to imagine that anymore.
Yet Raju's story is hardly unique: Of the 2 million mineworkers
in the state of Rajasthan, an estimated 20 percent are children.
Although international treaties and domestic laws prohibit child
labor, the authorities rarely enforce them. And because Americans
increasingly import the marble and sandstone produced in these mines,
we, too, are indirectly complicit in a system that exploits these
children. Even worse, we have betrayed them with our collective
indifference.
While most commentators are lauding India's booming technology
industry, these mines represent the disturbing underside of today's
international economic order. There's a debate about whether globalization
represents "a rising tide that will lift all boats" or,
more malignantly, "a race to the bottom," where standards
spiral downward.
That morning, I saw the bottom in Bhat Basti. It's made of sandstone.
And children are cutting away at the bedrock.
As an undergraduate student at Duke University a year ago, trade
seemed like little more than a numerical exercise. Today, one of
the hardest parts about being here is the realization that there
are stark limits to what my agency can do.
So I share the stories of those who suffer in silence.
But because words alone cannot halt this injustice, Gravis started
a mineworkers' union and an integrated program to address their
needs, such as raising awareness about potential health hazards
and workers' rights, constructing schools so children can learn
to read, forming self-help groups so women can earn an alternative
income and lobbying the government to award compensation to workers
suffering from silicosis.
Yet despite these efforts, I fear we're waging a losing battle.
It's still too easy to read about the issue but simply shrug off
the tragedy. But child labor isn't a cause; it's a crisis. And the
crisis isn't looming; it's arrived.
Tomorrow is the World Day Against Child Abuse and Exploitation,
and it's time we begin to fulfill our responsibility to these children.
What if a coalition of concerned citizens forced the U.S. construction
industry to raise its standards? What if we demanded certification
for each shipment of stones and boycotted mines that broke the law?
What if the international community shamed Indian officials into
removing their hands from the mine owner's pockets and started enforcing
the laws?
Eradicating child labor won't be easy. But by supporting local
movements and altering the way we consume, we can effect change.
That morning, after listening to the adults speak, I asked Raju
about her life.
"It's very difficult to work there," Raju told me, her
voice barely audible. "But if I didn't, how would we eat?"
When I asked about her dreams, a thin smile crept across her face.
"Maybe in my next life," she said softly, "I'll
be reborn as a person who travels in a car."
Hayden Kantor is conducting community-based research in India
as a Hart Fellow, the postgraduate component of Duke University's
Hart Leadership Program. His e-mail address is hsk6@duke.edu.
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