This essay is about a recent organizing campaign
in Fairfield County, CT. The Union Organizing Project, as it came to be
called, was an experiment in many different ways. Our hybrid organizing model
drew the best of union and community organizing into a tight blend. We gave
equal weight to workplace concerns and broader quality-of-life issues.
In part, this model emerged from our
confrontation with a power structure so lopsidedly against us that forging a
radical union organizing agenda required creating a broader “culture of
resistance.” The model was heavily rank and file dependent, and sought to
transform the members from thinking and acting like isolated workers, to
community leaders capable of mobilizing all the resources at their command to
better their lives.
Muscles grow from
exercise, and we were in constant motion. From 1998 to 2001, we were engaged in
intense fights, fights we started… and won.
·
4,500 workers were organized into unions, all with first contracts
that significantly raised wages, benefits, and working conditions (new
contracts covered public sector, health care, child care, taxi cab drivers, and
janitors).
·
Four public housing projects slated for demolition were saved.
·
$15 million in new state funds were secured to help pay for
improvements in the same public housing complexes.
·
An "Inclusionary Zoning
Policy" was passed by the City.
·
The nation's strongest one-for-one replacement ordinance was
passed by the City Council—protecting thousands of units of affordable public
housing.
·
The first-ever African American woman was elected to the School
Board.
·
Union-led electoral campaigns put two new members into the City
Council (including the first Latina, or for that matter
first person of Latin-American descent).
In 1998, one of a handful of experimental
projects initiated out of the AFL-CIO's new national Organizing Department was
launched in Fairfield County, CT. The campaign was to experiment with ways to
increase union organizing drive win rates, and to accelerate obtaining first
contracts. The AFL-CIO had decided each region of the nation would have one
funded project, using some mix of funds from the newly established Organizing
Fund. Importantly, the unions and not the AFL-CIO funded the overwhelming
majority of this campaign, constituting buy-in from the beginning.
In the initial plans,
the unique thing about the Stamford campaign was to be its
multi-union character. The campaign was launched initially with four affiliates
and four locals: United Auto Workers
Region 9a, United Food and Commercial Workers Local 371, Hotel and Restaurant
Employees Local 217, and the Service Employees International Union District
1199 New
England. The only real change by the campaign's end was that the Food and
Commercial workers were out of the campaign, and a second SEIU local, building
service local 531, joined. Following an organizing victory for over 2,000
janitors, this local was merged into the newly reformed powerhouse Local 32 BJ
of SEIU.
The campaign faced
significant political challenges from Day One due to strong dissatisfaction
among key affiliates over the fact that the AFL-CIO's discussions about the
campaign were held primarily with local unions, not the national leadership of
these unions. At the February 1998 national meeting of the AFL-CIO Executive
Committee, three progressive affiliates tried to ground the campaign arguing
that it did not fit into their sectoral approach to
organizing. Connecticut in general, and Stamford in particular, was not
seen as a priority spot to launch an aggressive organizing drive.
The factors that led the
local unions and the AFL-CIO regional leadership to initiate the Connecticut campaign were
compelling, and quite distinct from their national unions' agenda: political
power in the state had gradually shifted to Stamford and Fairfield County, and the labor movement
had no base to speak of in the area. This presented increasing difficulties
with passing state legislation favorable to labor. Furthermore, Fairfield County had the highest number
of unorganized workers across all sectors in the state; in some sectors, across
all of New
England.
Fairfield
County, CT is among the wealthiest regions of the
nation and world. During the 3 years under discussion, the Area Median Income
(AMI) went from $83,400 to $108,400. Its proximity to New York
City had long made it a bedroom community for rich business executives
from NYC. Over the years, however, CT grew its own Fortune 500 corporate presence,
making it the home and office to thousands of millionaires.
In the late 1960's,
millions of federal government dollars were made available to cities for
"urban redevelopment" as part of the anti-poverty programs of the
era. Stamford was one of the few cities where a single
developer got a monopoly on urban redevelopment funds, and the city was able to
push forward a "redevelopment" scheme very quickly. Soon small-town Stamford was transformed into a
major corporate headquarters region. This coincided with the white flight from
urban areas that drew business and jobs, and not just commuters, out from the
urban core.
One obstacle to this
"redevelopment" was the acres of prime land filled with low-income
tenement-style housing whose residents were African American. The homes of over
1,100 black families (estimated to house at least 5,000 people) were bulldozed
to pave the way for the 14 Fortune 500 companies who now call the area home.
The unions signed a
written contract with the national AFL-CIO, complete with a signing ceremony
with President Sweeney and the Presidents of the local unions involved. Among
the most important things written into the contract were a jurisdictional
agreement among the unions, and a commitment to share all data in a central database.
Central staff would be in charge of member organizing, politics, media, and
just about everything beyond the most narrowly defined worker organizing plans.
Labor as an institution takes contracts seriously, and there were moments of
disagreement in the multi-union partnership when it was the signed contract
that kept the project afloat. It also held unions accountable for commitments
they made in the agreement.
At the outset, we
decided to invest in developing a "Strategic Geographic Power Structure
Analysis" (PSA) of the area.
Who were the powerful forces and why? Which would be allies and which would be
obstacles? How could we enhance the power of our friends and neutralize that of
our opponents? The idea was to measure
power two ways, first in absolute terms, but also in relation to goals. It is
conceived to be as much a political education tool as anything. Just like we
“chart” workplaces as a crucial step to organizing, we need to “chart” real
leadership and power in the community to understand how to hem in the boss.
The UAW and District
1199 New
England of the SEIU had each just organized a shop, and as the Organizing
Project began it was clear the first real test was to deliver contracts for
these unions, fast. As the very first step in putting together the PSA, the new
union workers were brought in for a Saturday afternoon session. From that very first meeting, pieces of the
PSA began to come together. The UAW had just won an election that included the
non-supervisory public sector staff of the Stamford City Government, many of
whom worked right in the main government building. They had unique
understandings of city government, and unique access to the workings of local
power. The health care workers offered sharp insights into which churches
mattered, which Pastors mattered, and what the relationships were between them.
The class and race mix in that very
first meeting led to amazing dynamics among the workers that continued
throughout the campaign. White collar public sector workers joined nursing home
workers, as well as a small unit of dietary workers District 1199 who were
mostly African American with a sprinkling of Jamaicans and Haitians.
The meeting agenda
addressed two main questions:
Who held power in the area among religious
leaders, politicians, corporate leaders, community groups, and others?
What was their quality of life like? What
pressures bore down on them when they punched the clock and left work?
The results were
stunning. Across the board, workers talked about housing as overshadowing all
other aspects of their quality of life.
Rent was difficult to pay because of low wages, and purchasing a home
was inconceivable. There were also serious issues about the declining quality
and re-segregation of public schools, and that even though the city had a
bussing program, "always the Black kids from downtown bussed for over an
hour to North Stamford to attend rich white well-funded
schools." A
housing crisis and simmering racial tensions were dominant themes in the
meeting.
A researcher was hired
to do the more academic and statistical aspects of the PSA, gathering data on
issues such as expanding and shrinking sectors, corporate donations to
political parties, etc.
Some of the highlights
were:
·
Stamford had become the economic
engine for the entire state, and home to more powerful politicians than any
other part of the state.
·
No matter how much workers might win through collective bargaining
in wages, housing costs alone would condemn them to poverty.
·
Fortune 500 companies held absolute political power, and a more
diffuse social power, having convinced the population that 'they' should be
'thankful' to corporations for having jobs and a 'cleaned up city.'
·
There was no organized independent power base to ally ourselves
with – no universities, no
community-based groups of any kind except conservative neighborhood groups, no
local or regional offices or committees of the Hartford-based statewide
progressive groups.
·
Crucially, we learned that the city planned to bulldoze and
demolish all the remaining subsidized affordable housing, as well as whole
blocks of private, sub-standard housing.
The extreme power imbalance suggested that
to win, we would have to:
- Find creative ways to expose the real corporate agenda. Conventional
union campaigns would not be sufficient given the local population’s lack
of contact with the modern labor movement except as projected in
mainstream media. Housing and racism would be the keys to this effort.
·
Help organize and mobilize the only potential institutional ally
with even a possibility of power: religious institutions and specifically the
Black churches – every thing from evangelical Haitian store fronts to the
largest Baptist Congregations.
·
Make our emerging rank and file base the key to making alliances
in the local community.
There was no initial agreement on
this strategy. To the contrary, serious
tensions developed. Did housing work add
to, or distract from, our goal of direct worker organizing? Was the housing
issue simply a potential source for media work embarrassing to the bosses and
political leaders—much the way unions think of “corporate campaigns”? Or was it more, a strategic issue worth
addressing because it profoundly mattered to our members, and workers we sought
to organize, and because running a ‘social justice strategy’ meant we had to
win on this and in the process it would help build a broad culture of
resistance that would rebound to our advantage in every aspect of our work?
Black churches were
particularly sensitive to the housing issue, since the history of "Negro
removal" from downtown Stamford in the name of urban
renewal was so loaded for the older African Americans who had managed to stay
in the area. The Union Organizing Project began to work with black ministers to
educate them about the housing crisis. Because we were the first organization
in the city to produce research on housing destroyed as the corporations moved
in, and sound the alarm about "Wave II" of demolition, we were able
to establish unions as a force for good in the city.
How to proceed with
organizing proved to be just as contentious an issue. Eventually the UAW and
District 1199 agreed that the campaign staff could, working with a small team
of rank and file leaders, hold one-on-ones with the bargaining units of those
two unions where we were facing tough first contract fights. These first
one-on-ones focused simple questions such as where did their kids attend
school, what religious institution did they attend if any, were they part of
any community groups, did they vote, did they play in local sports leagues, and
so on. In essence, we transported the time-tested union organizing model of
"charting workers inside the facility" to charting workers' lives and
relationships outside the facility.
After a couple weeks we
began to analyze what we had in terms of community ties. Religious institutions
were the most obvious. We ignored church
leaders inclined to be progressive by tradition (Unitarians or
Congregationalists) in favor of powerful churches where a large number of our
workers attended. Again, the PSA was critical here. Generally, the white
ministers whom organizers often rely upon simply did not have much power in Fairfield County, and certainly not in Stamford.
By our fifth month in Stamford, we began to organize
1199 and UAW rank and file by church, and to hold weekend leadership sessions
with workers as churchgoers. We developed worker teams by church. One or two
workers per church agreed to request a meeting with their Minister, not as
union leaders but as congregants. Their message was "help us get a
contract, not because you believe in unions, but because you believe in me as a
member of your congregation, and you know my family suffers." The early
weeks found organizers tense about when people would come out and support
unions, and when progress would be made on the first contracts.
At the very first
meeting, a Minister agreed to write to the Mayor and demand justice for his
church members as they sought a better life. Suddenly, we had the most important
black leader in the city taking on the Mayor over a union contract fight, and
our relationship with other churches spread quickly from here.
We learned a great
deal from round one of this process, and our workers were broadening their
profile and identity: worker, worker-leader, union-worker-leader,
union-worker-church-leader, community-leader. Workers were often nervous about
meeting with their religious leaders to ask them for support. Strength in
numbers was key: if workers went as a group to meet their Ministers, they were
likely to be successful in asking for support. The trainings prior to these
meetings were also crucial.
Politicians in the city
began paying attention as they realized the churches and unions were operating
as one. By the winter of 1998-1999, they began showing up at events,
informational pickets, and more, as long as they knew they had the
"cover" of responding to the summons of religious leaders.
At the nine month mark
of the campaign, the religious leaders decided to host a multi-congregation
meeting on the housing crisis. We supplied the research, data, and analysis,
and they supplied an overflowing crowd of 800 mostly Black parishioners. There
was fire in the pulpit as Minister after Minister stood up and pronounced that
we needed a housing policy, and then added, "and we need a wage policy.
How come our people get bad housing and bad wages?" Media began reporting on the role of the
unions in the new housing 'crusade.'
We won two first
contracts in the nursing homes. We
turned a situation where a boss fired workers in an organizing campaign into a
pilgrimage with clergy and politicians rallying outside the nursing home,
joining us at the bargaining table, and demanding that the workers get hired
back as part of bargaining, not part of a multi-year NLRB process. We held
bargaining sessions in churches, not hotels. We won our demand to get these
workers their jobs back, and beat Vencor, about the nastiest union-busting
nursing home chain in an industry with a stiff competition for that title. By
one year into the campaign we had six first contracts under our belt and five
organizing wins.
At the one year mark the
housing fight took a turn: the Public Housing Authority announced an
"improvement through privatization plan" at one of the housing
complexes where we knew that we had a lot of new union members. We agreed that
union members and staff organizers would door-knock the entire housing complex
the next weekend. And we would turn out as many as we could to do an action at
the "informational session" to discuss the privatization plan.
With precious little
time before the Housing Authority "informational meeting," our staff
researcher discovered that the procedure for demolition of state-owned
buildings mandated that some tenants get "elected" to
"serve" in the "Public Housing Authority planning process,"
and that the Housing Authority planned to get "volunteers" for this
function at the meeting.
We did media trainings
for a leadership team of mostly union members who lived in the complex, and
planned an entire action. Leaders, not staff, did the final night of door
knocking in the neighborhood, often with piles of kids in tow.
At the meeting, we had
hundreds of residents of the complex in the room. The plan was to shut down the
meeting by leading a walk out, to forestall the appointment of
"volunteers". A few leaders
invited their Ministers to come. Without asking permission, and to the shock of
the bureaucrats, the Ministers opened the meeting with two prayers asking God
to prevent the Housing Authority from tearing down any more units of housing.
The crowd went wild, the TV cameras went wild, and the leaders boldly took over
the meeting. In their new-found role as tenant/union/church leader, the rank
and file leaders announced their intention to block the housing demolition from
ever happening.
The headline in the
daily paper the next day read "Unions to Back Residents' Housing
Fight," and quoted extensively from people who identified themselves as
members of unions who lived in public housing. Yet another new
"identity" was born.
About the same time as
this, the Mayor announced an end to bargaining for the public sector worker's
first contract, and said the only way to get a contract was through
arbitration. The UAW wanted to break the pattern that had been set in the
bargaining with other, smaller units, and position themselves as a union that
was willing to fight and win. This fight had now been going on since we arrived
in Stamford, but now the balance of power was shifting.
The Housing Authority
action had shown we could generate a real coordinated movement against the
Mayor. And now our housing group had grown well beyond the union members to
include leaders across the complex. The UAW decided to call for a general March
Against the Mayor. The tenant leaders called on all public housing residents to
march with the union.
By the day of the March
Against the Mayor, all hell had broken loose. The Mayor himself was going to
church leaders to ask them, beg them, subtly bribe them, not to show up at the
march. The press decried the march as "too confrontational," and
"unfair to take the fight to his house, his neighbors, his kids." But
everyone on our side was enjoying their new-felt power. The march came off,
with fewer Ministers in attendance than we had hoped for, but enough to show
the Mayor he couldn't out-organize the movement, in spite of the fact that the
city was offering the Black churches new resources and a 'seat at the table.'
Our research
showed that the city had slated every single public housing complex for
demolition, and we were organizing every one. In each, we began by scouring our
mental and digital data bases to sort out where we had new members. In each,
the organizing began by first meeting with our members, then working with them
to set up door knocking squads to house call the complexes. This was just over
2,000 families, with many adults living under one roof. We had leaders from
different unions in every complex.
Only one piece of the
mosaic was missing: Latinos did not live in public housing -- too much paper
work and documentation is required. The more established immigrant groups of
the area were Jamaican and Haitian, and along with African Americans, they
formed the public housing base. The problem
of how and where to engage a mass base of Latino's in some of our non-workplace
efforts was growing increasingly important as we were beginning to lay the
early foundations for organizing janitors throughout the entire county (who
were overwhelmingly Latino/a). Despite the momentum we had already established
in the churches, the Catholics were largely absent as then Bishop Edward Eagan,
now the Bishop in New York City, was notoriously anti-union and held his
priests and their activities on a very short leash. It would take another seven
months, the same strategy of congregant-to-parish-priest, as well as Bishop
Eagan's departure to NYC, before we could seriously engage the Latino-dominated
Catholic churches in the campaign.
The housing campaign was
benefiting our work in several ways:
·
The fight for their housing brought out members of our unions who
were not active.
·
It showed the Ministers we were committed to issues that went
beyond the workplace and unions.
·
It undermined the Mayor's authority, at the very time we were
challenging him to drop arbitration and return to the bargaining table for the
union contract. He was clearly getting boxed in as anti-poor, racist, and
anti-worker.
·
Housing provided a way to keep our members active in the union in
between contract fights.
·
The entire issue of the lack of affordable housing underscored the
need for unions to raise wages.
·
By now, we knew so many residents that we really could get union
cards signed more easily, and engage workers in union organizing campaigns.
After almost two years,
we won the first contract with the UAW. It was by far the best city contract,
settled across the table (which the previously powerful Mayor had pledged would
'happen over his dead body'). The negative pattern set by the other unions was
broken.
We not only stopped the demolition of the housing complexes, but eventually won
a city-wide ordinance mandating that any housing torn down in the city's limits
must be replaced by an equivalent unit. The ordinance stipulates that the new
unit has to go up first, must be located in the school district the resident
family is already in, must be comparable in size and affordability, and more.
Housing advocates have judged these to be the most sweeping anti-demolition
protections on record.
It is worth noting that
our opposition to demolition was a contrary position for some union people, who
argued we had to be "smart" and "proactive" and allow the
housing to come down because "the members deserve to live elsewhere."
We were clear, however, that these members would not have that choice unless
something was built for them first. And
the first step to winning that was to stop the demolition.
By June of 2000, we
launched a campaign to organize the 2,000 janitors in Fairfield County. Workers struck for
seven weeks despite intense employer intimidation, including the now customary
role of the INS. We won. Along the way, the members of the janitors' workforce
launched new housing fights because they lived in the private housing that
could also be razed, in some ways more easily than the public housing. This led
us to campaign for an Inclusionary Zoning policy
mandating minimum numbers of affordable units per new commercial and private
development. We won.
Here are some of the key
lessons of this campaign:
·
We
thought in terms of 'workplace/non-workplace' issues, rejecting
'community/labor,' the latter implying that workers are not members of the
community and that community members do not spend most of their time at work. Everything
about this model is focused on creating synergy between workplace and
non-workplace struggles, and recognizing the labor movement’s need to be at the
table inside and outside the shop.
·
We organized the 'whole member' by integrating the members'
concerns. Plenty of economic forces outside the shop conspire to negate even
direct wage and benefit gains made by the contract.
·
Leadership development is critical, and members do not divide
their lives into "job concerns" that warrant energy and attention,
and "everything else" which is somehow trivial.
·
It takes resources and good organizers to do this, not entry level
ones. Too often unions hire a "community organizer" who really has
never organized anything, or sub-contract this work to front organizations,
often with foundation money. Organizing the ‘whole worker’ leads to organizing
wins, so unions need to make the resources—including talent—available for this
kind of work.
·
Investing in developing a Power Structure Analysis up front is a
must.
·
Most unions are reluctant to discuss race explicitly. We talked
about it all the time. Our organizing team was totally diverse racially (though
it did not start out that way—we hired from the base as we grew). Our staff was
multi-multi-lingual, and overwhelmingly female. We had huge, unwieldy meetings
with translation in Creole, Spanish, and English. Workers would say there was
no place else in CT where people bothered to translate.
·
We also talked explicitly of class power. The fact that the
Project was multi-union was an added benefit as leaders began to identify as
belonging to a workers movement instead of one union. The housing fight helped
as it joined union members and unorganized workers together in an organization.
·
We paid for childcare at our weekend meetings. This might sound
ridiculous, but neither unions nor community organizations typically pay for
child care at meetings. We proved that if you provide child care for a meeting,
low-income moms will turn out in droves.
So much of the debate around union
organizing strategy never leaves the realm of jargon and abstraction, it’s
important to spell out what organizing the ‘whole worker’ means. Life was
changing for these people. They were constituting themselves as a class. They
were bargaining with their bosses, not begging.
They were taking over government meetings and running them
themselves. And they were winning
everywhere. They were fundamentally building workers power, and it was an
experience of class, race, faith, and personal liberation.