I’m an organizer in the labor movement. My current gig is organizing healthcare workers, but I’ve also organized public employees. Most of my longtime friends don’t understand what I do; some of them also don’t understand why I do it. And sometimes, in the middle of an 80-hour week, I don’t either. But some things have happened lately that have made me see the work I do through a different lens, and my reaction to these things has also completely confused some people who thought they knew me pretty well – particularly those who I met through my efforts against the war in Iraq.
So, as I often do to clarify my thoughts, I started writing. But as I almost never do, this time I’m actually posting what I wrote...
When the union decides whether to organize a new group of workers, there’s a process. Usually this involves looking at potential targets and assessing whether they are strategically a good fit for our goals. Strength is in numbers, and improving wages, benefits and working conditions for new members may be easier if there are already union shops in the area setting the standard, but increasing bargaining power for all American workers means sometimes we fight in a place like Texas or Florida, “right-to-work” states where there are very few union workers, comparatively speaking.
Aside from the labor movement’s commitment to helping all workers improve their quality of life, Texas and Florida are important strategic targets because of the influence they have on presidential elections. A place like Kansas, with its measly 6 electoral votes… not so much. And if you’re going to allocate precious resources, which are paid for by members’ dues - dues paid by people who wipe patients’ bottoms, clean up vomit, feed and dress and bathe and clean up after sick people - you want to make it count. The fight needs to be worth the expenditure, and losing after you’ve expended a large amount of those resources is always a risk you have to consider.
But once in awhile, well, we don’t have to do all that. See, there’s a thing called the hot shop. The hot shop is the place that calls you up and says “Hey, Union. We want to organize, and I’ve got a majority of the workers here on a petition saying so already. Would you come over here and sign us all up before my boss finds out what we’re trying to do and fires us all because we’re at-will employees and he doesn’t want the union in here? Please?”
One of the worst things you can say about an organizer is “That guy/gal could screw up a hot shop.” Even worse, “That’s the guy/gal who screwed up the hot shop.” They don’t usually last long in the labor movement. Because screwing up the hot shop, well… you’ve got to do some pretty serious screwing up, because the hot shop is the one that’s already done the hard work of organizing itself. The union doesn’t have to spend time and resources reaching out, building a list, figuring out relationships between departments and shifts, or the dynamics of the cliques, or most importantly, recruiting leaders. We just have to train and develop those brave souls who have already stepped up and said, “We’re ready. Just help us do what we need to do to win this fight.”
And it is a fight. There are casualties. People often get fired during an organizing campaign, and sometimes we can’t get them their jobs back. We can file charges, sure. But we can’t guarantee we’ll win every case. All we can promise is that we’ll help them to fight the injustice. And this is the thing: Even when you tell the leaders at the hot shop that, they say they’ll take the risk. It’s worth it to them to make sure the boss doesn’t continue to get away with making their employees work in unsafe conditions, for substandard pay and lousy benefits, if any at all. For healthcare workers, there’s the added injustice of knowing that the quality of care they provide to those sick people is impacted when they don’t have a way to collectively stand up to their bosses and advocate for their patients if they don’t have the protection of a union.
The last few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about Wisconsin, and Maine, and the battles ahead of us in the fight for the survival of the labor movement in America. I’ve also been thinking a lot about the sanitation workers’ strike in Memphis in 1968. Those of you who know what I mean may guess where I’m going with all this. My point is this:
Libya is a hot shop. Mohammed Nabbous had to bypass Gadafi’s internet blackout to ask the world for help, to give his fellow Libyans a fighting chance for freedom, for dignity, for their children. Mo took the risk. And Mo didn’t just lose his job over this, he gave his life. And for Mo, for his wife, and for his unborn child, as well as those who have stepped up since last week to continue his work, I’m going to do what I can do to make sure we don’t screw up a hot shop.
Mo quoted James Keller, saying, “A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle.” Well, Tunisia lit a candle that has in turn lit up the entire Middle East, and Mo's candle seems to have lit up the entire world, judging by the contacts I've made across the globe in just the last few weeks. Mo also said, “I’m not afraid to die, I’m afraid to lose the battle.” As in any battle, there’s always the chance they could lose. There are no guarantees. But this battle is worth the risk. I’m betting that even if they do lose, they’re going to win the war, and the world will be a better place when they do.
Mo's memorial page
National Transitional Council
If people want to help, please sign the petition and send letters to your Reps in Congress:
Or, they can give to any legitimate relief organization, such as Libyan Doctors for Hospitals in Libya.