When I first heard there was to be a rep from the Walt Disney World College Program on my campus,(name of school withheld) the first feeling I received was a magical stirring in my loins. Imagine working at Walt Disney World, the place of magical childhood dreams! I eagerly went to the informational seminar where past College Program participants stood on stage with a microphone in front of hundreds of starry-eyed prospective “Mousketeers” like myself and told story after story of how wonderful their time in the 8 month program was in making new friends, learning important career-building skills, and how future employers will look fondly upon seeing “Walt Disney World” on their resumes.
Hmmmm…Put off school for an 8 month sabbatical to work at Walt Disney World, The Vacation Kingdom of the World??? You betcha!
After acing the interviews and talking to my CP Recruiter, who told me that he might be able to “pull a few strings” and get me into working at Guest Relations at one of the Parks, (which is in line with my major of Public Relations), I was packed and ready to go. My folks, when I told them of my plans to work the College Program, weren’t exactly overjoyed. My Dad cited a Penthouse Forum article that quotes Vista Way apartments (one of the apartment complexes housing the college program) as “the # 2 place to get laid in the United States.” I was still excited about leaving boring college for fun, sun and learning opportunities galore at Walt Disney World!
$450 later, my plane landed in Orlando. My bags were lost somewhere between Cleveland and Kansas City the baggage claims rep told me at 1 am. I was tired but excited at the very idea I was in Orlando, home of Mickey Mouse.
I called the “Vista Transportation” number given to me for pickup at the airport when I arrived. After 50 rings, a man with a thick foreign accent groggily answered, “Vista Transportation.” I explained that I arrived at Orlando International and needed to be picked up. He replied that the earliest van he could get to me would be arriving at 7 am. It was 1:30 am! He said only, “Sorry, but you can get a taxi. Disney might reimburse you.” I chose to sleep.
The van arrived as scheduled at 7:30 am. There were two others from the College Program, one from my school and another from Texas A&M. They also arrived late the previous night and were ruby-eyed and weary like myself. It started to rain when we got into the van and rained the whole way to the apartment complex, Vista Way. My new friend Jim, who was from my school, told me that his major is Computer Engineering. His recruiter said that would “pull some strings” and get him into something more along his field of interest, possibly working with Disney’s Imagineers, the creative department.
After lugging my worldly possessions into the rain and into the lobby of Vista Way, I waited in line with about 20 other students to check in.
I finally got my apartment number and headed for my new home. Loud rap music wafted from the building where my apartment was located. As I got closer, I realized that the increasingly louder noise was coming from my apartment! I hesitantly knocked. No response. I knocked louder. Finally, the door swung wide open. Rap music booming louder than ever. A stoned-looking punk “kid” answered the door. (I say “kid” as if he was a “kid.”) “Welcome to Vista Lay!” He chortled, beer in one hand, cigarette in another.
I heaved my heavy bags into the apartment. “Where’s my room?” I asked. “Oh, dude. It’s over there,” pointing at it. I opened the door and an embarrassed nude girl draped in a bed sheet ran out of the room.
The place was a pig sty. Clothes strewn everywhere. Crooked venetian blinds immediately told a tale of wild parties and blasphemous orgies. Some guy lay in his bed moaning, “Dude…you must be my new roommate.” He wore a leather bracelet with studs and seemed to nursing a hangover. A cigarette dangled carelessly from his mouth. “That’s your bed over there.” It looked as someone had sex on it the night before. Crumbs of Doritos were sprinkled all over it. Disgusting.
The bathroom was even worse. A dark ring of black mold ringed the bowl. Burned-out cigarette butts lay all over the floor. It reeked badly.
“This is what I signed up for???” I asked myself.
I went through the 8 hour class that all new Disney employees, or “Cast Members” must attend, called “Traditions.”
It was sharp contrast to what I experienced already, but was a welcome escape into Neverland.
People with snazzy costumes walked into the classroom and ringed the perimeter. They were Trainers. Each called out names.
My job assignment. Magic Kingdom. Frontierland. “Pecos Bill’s Cafe” Food Service. Food service? I thought I would get Guest Relations! I was pissed.
My Trainer, “Ruth” a hag-faced 45 year-old masculine lady with missing teeth told me in a gravely voice that my tasks were to flip burgers in the back kitchen, bus tables and fill orders.
When I told her my recruiter said he would get me into Guest Relations, she cackled loudly. “Pull a few strings? Ha ha ha!!! I’ve heard it before, kid!! The truth is they need a warm body to fill a space. You’re just a faceless cog in the corporate wheel! Ha ha ha!!!” I sank lower. I wanted to leave right away.
I remember the scene from Pinocchio where naive boys were recruited to visit “Pleasure Island” and turned into Jackasses.
I called my Dad sobbing, “I made a mistake.” I want to get back home. “You’re a man now, Son. You made the decision. Just suck it up and make the best out of it.”
My first paycheck was a moment of excitement. I eagerly tore the borders off and opened the check. My eyes grew wide. “Minus $26.83???” Ruth cackled loudly. “It’s called “indentured servitude!”” She laughed even louder. “You pay them to work for them! Ain’t it a hoot??!!!” Apparently they took out two weeks of rent in advance, minus $130 for the first check, and $65 a week thereafter. All at $6 an hour.
I realized quickly that Disney was not interested in hiring real employees with benefits and decent wages. It was wanting to hire college kids and foreign college students for up to 8 months at a time with no benefits and no rights on the job, and charge us insane rent.
The full-timers were not happy with us, as they rightfully felt that Disney is using the College and International Programs to subdue their union’s bargaining power at the negotiating table and depress their pay scales.
Many full-timers pointed out that Disney receives some sort of taxbreak for the some 6,000 students enrolled in the College Program and that Disney plans to expand the program to double and even triple it to wipe out Full-time jobs.
How can a full-timer in Orlando expect to live alone on $6.75 an hour? Let alone support a family?
After 2 months into the Program, our apartment was raided by apartment security guards. Marijuana, booze (we were all under 21) was found in our apartment and we were all evicted and terminated. It didn’t matter who it belonged to. Zero tolerance. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” seemed to be their attitude.
I was relieved to be on my way home. But saddened.
My friend Jim? He got to work on the Dumbo ride in the Magic Kingdom, but was terminated when someone filed a complaint against him at Guest Relations, saying he started the ride up when they weren’t seatbelted in. He denied the allegations, and the union rep gave him advice on how to fight it, but explained he wasn’t covered under the union contract since he’s not full-time.
Advice to college students when the WDW CP Program (aka. “The P.T. Barnum Program–A sucker’s born every minute!) comes into town? Stay in school. Don’t blow it. Don’t waste your time.
P.S. The students who got on stage and babbled how wonderful the College Program is? Most were Recruiters trying to further their own Mickey Mouse careers.