Changes on the Work Front:The Rise of the Gray-Collar Worker

Late one autumn afternoon after bailing her pressurized cubical, Grace comes to "Can June," located in a quiet alley off of Taipei's Hsinsheng South Road. The capricious weather has sent her allergies through the roof. Aromatherapist Yang Han-yun attentively serves her some rose tea with a side of chitchat. The steaming concoction gradually works its magic on Grace's stuffy head.

Whether it is doing her body a favor with a daily spoonful of olive oil, attending to her clients with careful, relaxing treatments, or banging a gong to create settling sonic vibrations, an aromatherapist knows a myriad of ways to create a healthy and harmonious environment for her clients.

Mystical encounters

"Why not try your luck at kismet?" Yang coos. "Aromatherapy kismet" is the code word for having a grab bag of essential oil bottles placed in front of you and then picking one out tarot-card style, relying purely on intuition to select the one "meant" for you. After drawing "Sinbad," Grace finds herself coaxed to an other-worldly banquet of the senses by the pungent tang of Java citronella and the sweetness of Tolu Absolute.

Yang sizes up Grace and begins explaining like a tarot card reader the possible significance of selecting that particular bottle, "Sinbad is a scent characterized by exotic love. It exudes a sense of risk, adventure, travel, and change without you ever having to set one foot outside your door. Those who select this scent can generally be described as 'smoldering'--outwardly mellow but with a heart of steeled will... " And just like that, her interest piqued by the kismet game and nudged on by Yang, Grace chooses her first aromatherapy course.

Yang has a wizened soul and despite her relative youth, she is highly skilled in her art. She flattens out Grace's towel cocoon with sure hands which she then places ever so gently, ever so slowly onto Grace. Through the fibers of the cloth, the heat of her fingers and palms mix with that of Grace's body like two souls drinking of each other. Finally, Yang begins massaging. With each stroke, Grace feels the exhaustion, both physical and mental, ebb away and the fractures in her fragmented spirit mended.

Yang Han-yun explains that aromatherapy oil massages stimulate lymphatic circulation, which enhances the lymphatic system's metabolism and its ability to detoxify. Aromatic massage also emphasizes physical contact and observing the body's rhythms to determine deep-level spiritual needs. When the body and mind are in balance, when they receive the care they need, the immune system naturally has the power needed to maintain health and the body the ability to knit itself.

"Many of the people who undergo aromatherapy here come weighed down with stress or wounded hearts. When they receive the painstaking care provided by our staff, their pent up emotions find release," reflects Yang, who has had more than her share of customers burst into tears halfway through a session.

Young people today want "personalized," "different" experiences. Their hope that theirs will be an innovative, unforgettable wedding has brought into existence the profession of wedding planners.

White-collar myth busted

In the treatment room, the fragrances seduce, the music soothes, but if you push the clock back four years, you'll find it wasn't always like this.

After graduating from the design section of Yuan Ze University's Graduate School of Information Communication, Yang worked in a very modern office and stared into the screen of her new Mac computer as she mechanically processed piles of cases.

"Do I really have no choice but to do this sort of work for the rest of my life?" she asked herself late one evening while walking down a nearly deserted street after finally getting off work. A web designer by profession, she decided to take the plunge--the hands that once dragged a computer mouse around all day now knead the stress out of clients.

Many of the 47 aromatherapists who, like Yang, offer their services at Can June were once Can June clients. After personally experiencing the wonder of aromatherapy, they decided to come here to help others and get to know themselves better from the outside in. More than a third of the aromatherapists hold a bachelor's or master's degree; some even gave up seven-digit incomes with high-tech companies to work at Can June.

Throughout Taiwan, we see a number of stories with similar themes unraveling. Only the details differ.

"Kuo Chia-jui," 30, was a bank employee for five years. He envied the other members of his family with their "golden rice bowls"--stable nine-to-five bank jobs. He gave up his journalist job at a magazine that had him on the run all day covering stories to take a bank recruitment test. Using books borrowed from a friend, he passed after only two months of preparation. After receiving training, he started counting bills in the air-conditioned bank branch to which he was assigned. Every day, the doors were locked at 3:30 and he got off at five.

But the good life would only last for two months. He was transferred to the debt collection center where he was plugged into a computer as he made 2-300 phone calls each day. If he wasn't being raked over the coals by the party on the other end of the line, he was being forced to listen to some sob story about parents paying off the children's debts. Some of the tales he heard were more heart-rending than those he had heard as a reporter. One day, his supervisor ordered everybody to promote cash cards. He faced the pressures of huge sales quotas and his conscience ached from "leading the young astray." His "golden rice bowl" dream shattered, he "returned to the street."

Whether it is doing her body a favor with a daily spoonful of olive oil, attending to her clients with careful, relaxing treatments, or banging a gong to create settling sonic vibrations, an aromatherapist knows a myriad of ways to create a healthy and harmonious environment for her clients.

Rise of the gray collar worker

Kuo Chia-jui and Yang Han-yun are examples that reflect changes taking place in the workplace and show that mainstream working values are silently eroding away as the new gray-collar workers come to the fore.

What are gray collar workers?

The burgeoning number of people with strings of letters after their names over the past ten years has diminished the value of diplomas and cast doubt on their worth; lawyers have lost prestige as their counterparts have been implicated in government and business scandals; doctors no longer make the kind of money they used to because of health system reforms; accountants are being forced to be more accountable and are getting accused at every turn as a result of the large numbers of business scandals; and even high-tech engineers are having a tough time of it as they feel the pinch of the economic decline and the pressure of global competition. Taiwan's white-collar workers no longer have it made.

Furthermore, as the great wheel of economic development rolls along, new job types are coming into existence. The July 1998 issue of the Harvard Business Review carried an article entitled "Welcome to the Experience Economy," written jointly by economists Joseph Pine II and James Gilmore. In it, they stated that new economic values are created in each stage of the evolution of economies, including the agricultural economy, the industrial economy characterized by the manufacture of consumer products, and the service economy. They forecast that ultimately an economy of experience will arise that will focus on aesthetics, innovation, storytelling, and staging various types of stimulating atmosphere. The experience economy will no longer seek simply to satisfy basic biological needs; rather, it will provide consumers with a sense of identity, of belonging, of self-esteem, and the opportunity to achieve self-actualization.

Take Chris, for example. Currently 31 years old, he enjoys drinking a cup of joe at the Starbucks near his office after lunch. Each time he walks into the coffee shop, he's greeted by the aroma of coffee, which to him is like walking through a time portal, taking him back to better times. The warm yellow lighting, the rich smell of coffee, and the sensuously lazy jazz melodies... none of these experiences is common to everyday life in Taiwan. "I like the feeling of freedom, like I was abroad on holiday--all for less than NT$100," muses a business-suit clad Chris as he sips on a latte.

The experience economy has triggered changes in the employment market. 1111 Job Bank statistics show that in 2005, employment opportunities in Taiwan's beauty salon and hairstyling industry grew by 11% and there was a more than 40% increase in the number of individuals seeking work in the industry. Other related industries, including aesthetic design and life care, have seen similar growth.

From another perspective, with today's tendency to stress looking young and staying fit, beauty and health-related industries are booming. Individuals plying the art, style, and beauty trades have replaced successful businesspeople to become TV shows' most sought-after guests. Love affairs between chic, debonair hairstylists and their gorgeous clients are common fare in Japanese and Taiwanese idol dramas. The fact that countless starlets in real life have fallen in love with their stylists and fitness coaches has impacted the views of 20-somethings on the workplace. Males, for example, no longer shun the idea of working in the traditionally female-dominated beauty industry. Trends of this sort are driving the rise of the new gray-collar worker.

Whether it is doing her body a favor with a daily spoonful of olive oil, attending to her clients with careful, relaxing treatments, or banging a gong to create settling sonic vibrations, an aromatherapist knows a myriad of ways to create a healthy and harmonious environment for her clients.

Sense and sensuality

Ling Tung University professor Frank Tien-jin Chang remarks that in the past, occupations were described as either white or blue collar, but the dividing lines between them are becoming increasingly ambiguous. A university horticulture instructor, for example, can't just talk about vegetation; he must have a green thumb. A horticulturist or a florist must know the special characteristics of various plants and even know what they symbolize in mythology or literature and any relevant anecdotes; otherwise, they won't be able to convince people to fork over the exorbitant amounts of money they are asking.

In other words, the white-collar worker sitting at his desk must have a full practical understanding of the task at hand, while the blue-collar worker, responsible for getting the work done, needs both specialist know-how and cultural skills--their roles are gradually merging. This has been especially true since the advent of the "age of handicrafts" with its emphasis on getting back to basics and making things with your own two hands. Professions that require advanced hands-on techniques have shattered the blue-collar stereotype. By enhancing their specialized knowledge and skills, an increasing number of late entrants are joining the ranks of the gray-collar workers.

After being injected with innovation and cultural significance, the funeral business, once looked down upon as an occupation for the lower classes, now offers tailor-made services for their "clientele." People in the industry are no longer viewed as performing their work in a perfunctory manner; it is the best example of a blue-collar industry "going gray."

Our scene shifts to a funeral ceremony class taking place at Nanhua University in southern Taiwan. A group of "funeral ceremony specialists," all dressed alike in white shirts and suit trousers, are busy scribbling down notes. They are required to take 80 credits over the course of six semesters and turn in 3,000-character reports at semester's end. Course content includes government funeral policies and regulations, the various types of funeral ceremony, views on life and death of different religions, and epitaph writing, as well as the actual hosting of services and ceremonial hall arrangement and decoration.

Birth and death are parts of life. Taiwan's funeral business used to be a closed industry and casket bearers were notorious for wearing flip-flops, munching on betel nuts, and smoking. A few unsavory characters actually pilfered cadavers and demanded under-the-table money from mourning families, and squeezed every possible penny out of each funeral. This is the impression the general public still has of traditional undertakers. But the assistance provided by professional funeral planners and ceremonial specialists during this last stage in the journey of life not only allows the dear departed to exit with dignity, the family can focus on what is important during an otherwise hectic time, leaving the details of etiquette and custom to the specialists.

Wei Li-na, a 28-year-old with a BA in music, abandoned her teaching position to pursue a career in Taiwan's new funeral industry as a ceremonial specialist with the Lungyen Group. Because the ceremonial specialist serves as a bridge between family and the funeral industry, it is imperative that Wei understand various religious and social customs and taboos. She must also be thoroughly familiar with all stages in a funeral, from family relationships and mourning counseling to body cosmetology, cleaning, makeup, and placement into the casket, and even how the casket is carried.

In addition to planning and managing funerals from behind the scenes, Wei must be able to single-handedly supervise everything that happens on the day of the funeral. In the event that family members are overwhelmed with emotion or even faint, her training ensures that she can handle this or any other situation calmly and compassionately. In the course of serving her clients, Wei has witnessed all kinds of things and she uses these experiences to teach clients and herself to live better and to treasure life.

Whether it is doing her body a favor with a daily spoonful of olive oil, attending to her clients with careful, relaxing treatments, or banging a gong to create settling sonic vibrations, an aromatherapist knows a myriad of ways to create a healthy and harmonious environment for her clients.

Innovation vs. tradition

Whether their mission is to bring joy, like the aromatherapy industry, or to bring comfort, like the funeral industry, gray-collar professions are multiplying in every line of business imaginable. But a constant tug-of-war exists between new innovative methods and their traditional counterparts.

"Isn't aromatherapy a direct-sales scam?" "You have a master's degree... what are you doing washing feet and giving massages!" "Can't you find a job that other people can understand, a more 'presentable' job?" Can June aromatherapist Yang Han-yun has had sarcastic remarks like these directed at her at one time or other. A number of her aromatherapy classmates couldn't handle the comments and threw in the towel after half a year.

"When I met with some of my former classmates from graduate school after first entering this field, they didn't understand what aromatherapy work entails and why I would want to turn my back on a good job in the high-tech company to become a "masseuse," scraping along on only NT$20,000 a month. One time during a similar gathering, I couldn't add anything to the conversation, because it circled around things like the latest version of some multimedia software and how many stocks they were issued by their company," recalls Yang.

"But I don't regret it, because I realize my job allows me to help others. What's more, as a person who contemplates what kind of person I want to become, it gives me direction. I have learned how to get along with the real me, including everything from taking a spoonful of olive oil early in the morning, which is good for the health, to awakening my overall life values, to the improvement of the quality of my physical, mental, and spiritual life."

The "concern" shown to her by friends and family are not her biggest problem. Yang explains that the most difficult part and the biggest challenge of aromatherapy work is "opening yourself up and looking inside." Ever since she was a little girl, she worked hard to play her roles well; she was the good daughter, the good student, the good girlfriend, always striving to satisfy the expectations others had for her. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but deep in her heart of hearts a tiny voice kept asking, "Why am I not content? Why am I not happy?" When she began working as an aromatherapist at Can June, she realized that this was the first time in her life that she ever found herself interested in her work. She was doing things for herself now.

But "waking up your sense of touch entails a great deal of struggle." Yang had to first study dance and rhythm to awaken her awareness of the human body, but she discovered that her movements were stiff and mechanical. She was surprised to find that she had been alienated from and negligent of her physical self all along. After six months of training, she finally learned how to see with her hands, to feel comfortable touching her own body and those of others, and to create a new experience for each of her clients. Standing in the center of the aromatherapy room as she speaks, Yang begins to move like a dancer, her movements delicate, smooth and harmonious.

In his newest book Job Guidance for the 13-Year-Olds and All Triers, best-selling Japanese author Ryu Murakami states, "The people of the world can be divided into two types--those who work in a job they like and that is suited to them, and those who don't." Murakami argues that if you must do something to earn a living or feel fulfilled, you should do something you enjoy, rather than forcing yourself to do something you hate. This seems to aptly describe the reasons behind the rise of the gray collar worker.

With the help of aromatherapist Yang Han-yun's expert massaging skills and the ability of each bottle of aromatherapy oil to tell a story, every client that comes here receives the physical, mental, and spiritual peace and restoration that they need.

Video game and fantasy literature aficionado Lucifer Chu translated the book and movie trilogy Lord of the Rings, making a nice profit in the process.

With its focus on aesthetics, innovation, and storytelling, the "experience economy" stresses innovation and personal experience, bringing new occupations to the forefront. White-collar professions, once the most respected category of occupations, are on the verge of falling to the wayside.

Whether it is doing her body a favor with a daily spoonful of olive oil, attending to her clients with careful, relaxing treatments, or banging a gong to create settling sonic vibrations, an aromatherapist knows a myriad of ways to create a healthy and harmonious environment for her clients.

As the times change, more importance is being placed on funeral arrangements and paving the way for the emergence of a new profession--funeral ceremony specialist.

Offering suggestions on everything from dress, hairstyle, and physical appearance to speaking skills is part of image consultant Chen Li-ching's work objective.

The experience economy is triggering massive shifts in the labor market. Dreams of wedding veils and happily-ever-after have brought into being the latest and most fashionable gray-collar profession--marriage planner.