Each night, I'd hear a symphony performed by my fellow residents - owls, dove, frogs, katydids, whippoorwill, howling coyotes, clucking hens, mooing cows, and other critters I never identified.

I remember a particularly rewarding couple of days in March 1976 very clearly.

Over the weekend, friends had visited and there had been impromptu bluegrass music sessions, lots of laughter and good food. They had helped me unload many bales of hay. I had also put my seed potatoes in the ground, tilled the garden, and repaired the fence to keep the Red Angus calves.

The following Monday, I woke about 6:00 AM, stoked the fire in the cast iron wood stove, and put my coffee percolator on it. After coffee and a sunrise, I made a trip to the outhouse, gathered a few eggs from my hens on the way back, warmed up my '67 Chevy 3-on-the-tree pickup and headed to my morning art classes at the university where I would be doing printmaking and painting all morning.

At 2:00 PM, it was time to show up at my full time job as cook at a local Mexican restaurant, where I got paid $2.65 per hour. I was told that since I was the only college student in the kitchen, I was given some supervisory tasks and got paid 30 cents more then the other 6 or 7 people that worked in the kitchen with me.

The others were all older than me and people of color. Many of the them had already worked there for years and this would possibly be their lives for years to come. I now realize that I was paid more because I was white. Back then, I really was too naive to know it.

Until closing time at 10:00 PM, we'd work in a hot, steamy kitchen where the air and surfaces were thick with lard from the deep fat fryers. Most of us would end up with a few burns every day from the hot ovens. At closing, we'd pour bottles of bleach everywhere and sprinkle AJAX on the counters. We'd all scrub everything with big sponges - the walls, the floors, the counters.

After this, we'd bring in the water hoses from outside and spray the kitchen down. Since the drain traps were perpetually clogged, we'd have to sweep all this bleach-laden water out the back door with straw brooms. We'd finish around 11:00 PM. I'd always end up with really wet feet.

On this night, as I headed to my pickup where my faithful dog was patiently waiting, I realized it was snowing. Well, this pickup truck, I forgot to say earlier, didn't have a window in the driver side door and the door latch was not reliable either. The bench seat also caved in towards the door a little.

So, on the way home to the farm, with snow blowing in my face through the open window, I had to hold my left arm outside to keep the door shut and with my right hand, I'd hang onto the steering wheel to keep from sliding out.

Arriving back at the farm, my red barn was ice cold, of course. I had not split enough wood over the weekend. I only had whole logs that were now covered in ice. So, back outside with the maul, the dog and I managed to split a few. By about 1:00 AM, the fire in the stove was finally crackling and going really good. The chill in the air was subsiding.

I was safe. I was warm. I was making ends meet.

I specifically remember lying on the floor, by the stove, late that night, feeling contented and proud of myself, and thinking, "This has been a really good day. Things are going good and I couldn't ask for anything more."

Of course, you see, I had the knowledge that I wouldn't be living like this forever. My parents and grandparents were all college educated and it was simply required that I be college educated too. I never even considered being the first to break that chain. Plus, I was making $2.65 an hour, which back then, a person could survive on if she really had to.

Gasoline was less than a dollar. Making $2.65 an hour, my gross annual salary was a whopping $5,512.00, or $459.33 per month, before taxes.

Considering that my monthly living expenses (phone, chicken feed, dog food, electricity, tools) came to about $100, my truck payment $50, my art supplies about $50, tuition and books (prorated monthly) of $75, food $80, and gasoline about $25 - I only needed about $380 per month to get by.

Everything was so much cheaper back then. I'd manage from time to time to buy some clothes, some household supplies and even totally unnecessary items too. Maybe I'd get a trip out of town or be able to host a party. It was a good temporary life for me and I made it work. I even loved it. I romanticized it, referring to myself as a "starving artist".

Still, by any definition, I was very poor.

That was thirty years ago.

If you've made this far into my blog entry, I suppose you are wondering why I am telling you about my life and how I struggled on $2.65 an hour so long ago? Well, I do have a reason - I also want to tell you something I learned about the state of Kansas just this week.

Kansas still has a state minimum wage of $2.65 per hour. It's very hard to believe, but it's true.

Kansas has the lowest minimum wage in the country. Roughly 19,000 workers in Kansas in 2007, in agricultural and certain service jobs are covered by the state minimum and not the federal. These minimum wage workers can't be making ends meet at all on $459.33 per month, can they? It was a real struggle for me to survive on $2.65 in 1976. How can it even be possible for anyone to survive in 2007 on the same money?

They are undoubtedly hungrier than I was thirty years ago. They probably have a real hard time just keeping their heads sheltered. Surely, they can't afford medical care if they need it.

Few of these present day workers would be able to afford books or tuition. They can't work their way through school like I did.

There is no doubt in my mind that close to all of these 19,000 Kansas workers are probably just barely hanging on - barely surviving, if you can really even call it that.

Do they feel safe and warm after a long hard day at work? It's doubtful.

Most probably feel insecure, discouraged and just plain sad. After all, this is 2007 and not 1976.

In February 2007, 56 Kansas legislators voted to raise the state minimum. The proposed law would have only made the Kansas minimum wage equal to the federal minimum wage - $5.15 per hour. That bill narrowly failed in a 56-62 vote. All of the 62 legislators voting against it were Republican. The hourly minimum wage in Kansas remains at $2.65 per hour.

The Kansans that, by law, can still be paid $2.65 per hour are those that are: (1) employed in agriculture; (2) employed in domestic service in or about a private home; (3) employed as outside salespeople on commission; (4) who render voluntary service to a nonprofit organization; (5) school district employees working in an executive, administrative or professional capacity during 50 percent or more of their working time; (6) employed by an employer that is covered by the federal Fair Labor Standards Act; and, others groups of employees as well.

I'm appalled at the Kansas legislature.

I do hope I'm not the only one.