In a recent conversation, a Fellow Worker relayed a line of questioning posed to her by other Wobblies: How small a group is too small for direct action? When is it too soon to begin pushing back against the boss? At what point does one reach a “critical mass” big and strong enough to start getting gains on the job? These are important questions for workers organizing their shop because answering them incorrectly can lead to real trouble down the line.
But this way of thinking is general and almost philosophical. Like all philosophical questions, there is a present danger of merely analyzing the abstract workplace rather than trying to change the real ones in front of us.
The first answer to the question, “When is it too soon to begin pushing back on the boss?” is never. This is because there is always some degree of pressure, however small, that we can bring to bear on our employer. Individual workers do this all the time, independent and uncoordinated, and often just for our own catharsis.
How many of us say, “Yes, sir!” and do the opposite once our manager stops looking, because we know our way is better or takes less needless effort? How often workers say one thing and do another because management has lost touch with how the workplace actually functions.
At my job, there is one janitorial worker acting under the supervision of a janitorial manager. (Why a manager exists for the sake of one worker is another philosophical question, I won’t get into here.) A couple months ago, this (still probationary) worker approached me with a problem: Until that day, they had been entrusted by their manager with a master key. This enabled them to access the entire building to clean, stock supplies, and do simple tasks like change light bulbs.
When another manager discovered the worker had this key, they made a mountain out of a molehill. Rather than seeing that this worker was just doing their daily work, managers made an issue of them having such wide access to the building. Though they had never given any indication of dishonesty, they were painted as a risk to the building’s security. It didn’t matter that the worker’s direct manager had entrusted them with this responsibility or that they realistically needed access to various rooms to maintain the building. Management took the master key.
We had some options. We could go the business union route and try to file a grievance. Human Resources likes to say that our probationary employees cannot file grievances, but while this stipulation is in some contracts, it’s nowhere in ours. So, I file anyway. And, historically, our HR director hears the grievance. (Labor peace is a sword that cuts both ways.) But was the best option to file paperwork, send some emails, and wait two weeks for an answer (which may not be the answer we want)?
I Didn’t Think So
The janitorial worker was angry. They did their work well and had shown themselves to be trustworthy. They felt insulted, even targeted, and they wanted to lash out. So first I told them to take a deep breath. And then I advised this worker, “Consider if every time you were asked to do something that required that master key, you politely dragged your manager into it. Every time you need to open a storage closet, access an office, stock a shelf, you have to ask your manager to come upstairs with your master key. You smiled kindly at the other managers and said, ‘I’ll have to call them for that.’ What do you think would happen?”
They Went for the Idea
It took a few days for the janitorial manager to crack. After all, this was almost as bad as having no janitorial worker at all. Practically every time the worker needed to do the basic functions of their job, their manager would have to make the long trip up from the basement office to turn a lock. Supervisors were forced to wait in the chaos of the workday for something as simple as toilet paper or a new light bulb.
There was no blow-up, no dramatic showdown with management, no discussion of the root issue at all. In less than a week, the master key was back on the ring. It wasn’t brought up again.
Now if just a single worker can find ways to push back, so can two or three. The key is to know the limits of the group one is working with and keep in mind the art of escalation. (In shorthand: don’t be a fool.) A handful of workers probably can’t get the whole workplace higher pay, better vacation, or an improved sick leave policy. This was revealed to me all too vividly during our contract negotiations, when the three of us alone on the bargaining committee couldn’t get management to budge on the latter two issues.
But a few workers may be able to win many small gains that, when stacked, add up to major changes in the workplace. A couple of workers can often push back on a bully supervisor, or convince others to start changing workflows and methods, or create precedents that other workers can appeal to later. And it is really never too soon to begin mapping out these possibilities. I have acted with one or two other workers on these issues more times than I can count. I’ve also watched them do it on their own.
Each workplace is already made up of tiny little unions acting independently of each other. We call them social groups. Like craft unions, they can win some real gains for themselves. Even if not by design, these gains sometimes spill over to benefit others.
When we organize workplaces based on solidarity, rooted in shared concerns and demands, we bridge the small power of these groups to create a unified front. We coordinate but do not replace these little cells of worker self-defense. These small groups never stop existing and, if we’re smart, we’re always helping them find ways to act on their own initiative whenever it makes sense.
Indeed, these small actions are usually the basis of bigger ones down the line. They’re also harder for the boss to quash. Little wins instill people with confidence, build trust, and give us examples to show that a better workplace is possible. These small wins begin to link up, forming a web of resistance that can expand over time to cover the whole job. Once a culture like this is formed, it’s tough for management to undo.
Approaching organizing in this way likely means it will be a slow, deliberate, methodical process, not something that escalates and ends in a few weeks or months. But this approach is generally safer, more stable, and longer-lasting. If we press on in this way, the boss will eventually find himself locked out.
At about one o’clock on Saturday, March 11, at least 40 local residents and activists gathered in Lisbon, Ohio to demand justice for East Palestine. They focused their protest on rail giant Norfolk Southern and its role in the derailing of the train on Feb. 3, 2023.
The seat of Columbiana County, Lisbon is less than 20 miles from the now infamous East Palestine. The afternoon air was cold but not biting – typical March weather here in the Mahoning Valley. But the atmosphere was tense.
People had joined together to show their anger at Norfolk Southern and determination to make them pay for damages. They held signs and distributed info about community actions to get more people involved. They also gave testimony for the news cameras.
I made my way from my home in Salem, just a 10 minute drive down State Route 45. The derailed train had first passed through our town, already on fire, on its way to its eventual wreckage site. It easily could have been my own family evacuating in February–a thought that has kept me up many nights since.
I parked and shuffled from my spot near Fox’s Pizza Den into the town square. There, protesters had already gathered, holding signs for passing traffic. “Make Norfolk Pay,” read one. “You break it, you buy it,” read another.
Railroad Workers United didn’t attend for fear of company retaliation, but sent a solidarity statement read by a DSA member. “Put power back in the hands of the workers!” cried one speaker. “Workers make the world run.”
Now often called Ohio’s Chernobyl, East Palestine previously led a quiet existence. But the town of 4,800 was thrown into disarray, and then despair, by February 3’s 150-railcar “mega-train” derailment. This industrial catastrophe doused the surrounding area with extremely hazardous chemicals. 20 railcars contained deadly compounds, including one million pounds of vinyl chloride.
Residents around the town testified (and still do) of headaches, nose bleeds, dizzy spells, nausea, rashes, difficulty breathing, sore throats, and more. Norfolk Southern and the government specified a one mile hazard zone, but people 30 to 50 miles out–or more–are being affected. According to testimonies at the solidarity action in Lisbon, Norfolk Southern’s “clinic” staff and state officials have told sick residents that these symptoms are “all in their heads.” (Yet CDC inspectors have also fallen sick with the same symptoms. So much for that!)
One protestor spoke about the potential environmental impacts across the eastern central United States. Water quality and vital species are under threat from this chemical cocktail. Local extinction for many species, such as protected hellbender salamanders, is a serious concern.
More than one protestor expressed community fears about local game, such as venison. Many hunters and other locals still rely on wild game for much of their diet. These testimonies were followed up with demands for increased SNAP benefits for the area to prevent wider ingestion of contaminated foods. One speaker declared: “We need Norfolk Southern to pay more– for all of it! Not $5 per person!” That last line being a reference to Norfolk Southern’s first pathetic attempt at a “donation” of just $25,000 in the immediate aftermath.
What is clear is this was no accident. It was the result of cold negligence for private profit. Norfolk Southern has long resisted safety regulations, such as improved braking, safer rail cars, and shorter train lengths, that would have prevented this disaster. Then, during a truly apocalyptic disaster, the company rushed to get trains running again. Residents, who had been made to evacuate under threat of force, were then prematurely called back so that Norfolk Southern could resume rail shipments. The company deleted almost all of the train’s onboard footage of the derailment. Norfolk Southern has been altering the rails to cover their tracks since. They still refuse to release chemical testing data and outside researchers must do the job independently.
Norfolk Southern and the U.S. government jumped the gun in order to resume their earth-wrecking profit racket. The safety of local residents and wildlife came in a distant second to corporate greed and government corruption.
Another speaker who has been doing corporate research on Norfolk Southern noted that the company is poisoning towns across the United States. Towns have been covered in coal dust because coal is shipped in uncovered carts. Towns are losing their potable water as a result of the pollution. Norfolk Southern releases PR statements full of promises they won’t leave East Palestine behind but the company has already devastated many other communities. “Our fight here helps these other places and communities, too,” the speaker noted.
Nothing has changed since. Just days after the tracks were cleared, my wife reported counting at least 130 cars as a train passed the tracks half a mile from our home. I have begun counting, too, and they have all been similarly overloaded. Trains have derailed in Sandusky and Pittsburgh. The danger has not passed. The company and the government clearly do not care.
Property values have bottomed out, leading to calls for Norfolk Southern to compensate locals with billions of dollars in damages. The Ohio Peace Council has put out a petition calling for Norfolk Southern to buy properties from anyone who wants to move. (Yours truly has signed it, and I encourage you to sign it, too.) Costs to residents continue to mount in the meantime and at least 100 students have opted to return to school remotely.
Even that may work in the company’s favor, a local has pointed out to me, if it sells or rents the land for more industrial use. Of course, that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be done. There are real people enduring real trauma and suffering, and they must be helped even if a corporation takes advantage of it. But under capitalism, even public restitution is profitable!
Horrible toxins and dangerous carcinogenic compounds, called dioxins, were released into the environment in Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and perhaps further. Despite all that experts know, this exact situation has never happened before.
There is a real sense in which East Palestine and nearby communities are a chemical and biological experiment running human test subjects. No one knows exactly what the effects on human or environmental health will be.
This is nothing new for us, in one sense. Northeast Ohio has long been treated like a homegrown “third world” for American companies to abuse, exploit, and pollute. We have long dealt with higher rates of cancer and other diseases from environmental contamination. They call us “flyover country” so that the rest of the population doesn’t notice (or, if they notice, don’t feel too bad).
I’ve personally seen many comments on social media saying that we “deserve” it because our counties veer rightwing in electoral politics: “You got the safety deregulation you voted for!” But this viewpoint leaves out too much of reality to be tenable.
It’s easy to ignore that 45% of eligible voters didn’t even show up to the polls for any candidate in 2016; that 30% of East Palestine’s voters picked other candidates; that the U.S. elections system is absurdly gerrymandered and artificially limited to two essentially identical parties; that babies, fish, trees, or deer can’t vote at all. It’s easy to forget that we all share the air and water, or that our soil grows so much of everyone’s food.
This callousness, especially in the “backwater” parts of the area, is nothing new to us. But the scale and immediacy of the disaster were beyond anything this area has experienced since the Cuyahoga last caught fire.
Another spoke about the need for authentic democracy in the rail industry and our communities. They put it bluntly: “Who voted for Norfolk Southern to come through our communities? Who voted for Norfolk Southern to poison East Palestine?” The answer, of course, is none of us. They continued, “We have no democratic control or oversight of the rails!”
What would such local control, or ‘democratic oversight,’ of the rail industry look like? Protestors made the point that it only begins with strong, interconnected communities where everyone’s voice is welcome. “A living, breathing democracy is when we come together with neighbors, friends, our communities. It’s not a poll once per year. We need to meet together. That’s how we make Norfolk Southern pay!”
Norfolk Southern is enmeshed throughout the eastern US. Protestors pointed out the company is funding Cop City—where one Wobbly lost their life mere months ago—and demanded it “fund the solutions to this problem instead!”
Werner Lange, chair of the Ohio Peace Council, also spoke. “You break it, you pay for it!” he declared. “And [Norfolk Southern should pay] not just thousands, not just millions, not just billions, but BILLIONS AND BILLIONS” to make things right for the whole area.
In the protestors’ opinions– and the writer’s–Governor DeWine’s water sip photo op was a joke. The speaker noted that officials did the same thing in Flint, but problems persisted. It is clear that the issue is consumption over years being unsafe, not mere sips for TV cameras. Politicians and corporations know this but insist on treating locals as completely brainless.
Before we dispersed, a native of Flint, Michigan who now lives in the Mahoning Valley spoke. They pointed out that East Palestine could learn from the experiences of Flint residents. According to this speaker, Norfolk Southern is using quarterly accounting tricks to make it seem like they can’t afford to do better on safety. Such corporate and government tricks were a major problem in fighting for clean water in Flint, too.
In Flint’s case, the community organized, got the nation’s attention and kept fighting. The fight has been long, difficult, and costly. But our local community must do nothing less if we are to overcome these obstacles. A long road lies ahead; all we can decide is whether we will walk it alone or together.
Get Involved/Find Out More:
River Valley Organizing is handling much of the organizing and relief efforts on the ground. You can get in touch with them here. You can find the East Palestine solidarity fund to make a donation here.
Ed Mann’s life was a testament to the power of worker solidarity. His was a steel will set on struggle and defiance against overwhelming odds. Ed’s story is one of enduring the darkness of industrial collapse without losing hope.
Growing up in Toledo, Ed worked various intensive physical jobs. He was no stranger to tough, dangerous work. Ed remembered his mother inviting homeless folks for family meals. Despite having little, she showed deep solidarity with those around them. She also ensured Ed received a Reform Jewish education at a local temple. He never much identified with the religious side of his upbringing. Still, Ed valued his education for his whole life.
In 1952, Ed settled in Northeast Ohio. He started working full time in the local steel industry at the Brier Hill mill.
Things That Politicize People
Even with his Reform Jewish upbringing, racism was not a consistent issue in Ed’s personal life. Ed and American racism first clashed in 1947. One fateful day would define his future views on race and his organizing work. It started when he took out a YMCA membership.
Ed planned to exercise with his friend Bell, a Black man. Ed never considered that there were separate facilities for whites and Blacks. When Ed and Bell showed up together to work out, Ed asked for a guest pass. “Don’t cause any trouble,” the manager replied. “He’s got his YMCA and this is yours.”
“I think it’s things like that that politicize people,” he later reflected. “I was at an age where I was like a sponge, wanting to participate in society. Then I found out what society was like where I was living at that point in time.”
This shaped how he viewed the treatment of Black steelworkers in Ohio mills. The union locals had long stood by while bosses discriminated in pay and promotions. A key part of Ed’s early union years involved fights for equal treatment for his fellow workers. He later picketed with Black residents and unionists outside Akron against the KKK.
Putting Down Roots
Ed Mann on a picket line
Ed emphasized becoming active in the local community. “It’s so much easier to go somewhere else and demonstrate,” he noted, “than to demonstrate in your own home town.” Ed saw this quality as essential to good organizing. “You’ve got to put down roots if you want to change anything. You can’t be like a damn butterfly, flitting around all over.”
Years of gang-type work in the mills taught Ed what it meant to need someone’s help. Whether you liked another worker or not, “to get the job done and not die, you had to help each other.” It was this mutual necessity that led to firm trust. Ed could ask about workers’ kids or the type of car they drove. Eventually, someone would invite someone else over for a party or a beer. “Before you know it you’re friends. And then the politics started talking. That’s what I experienced.”
Ed wasn’t shy about his radical views despite pushback. “I found that the people didn’t really care what my politics were as long as I won grievances, did my job as a union officer.” By all accounts, he did. Ed bypassed contract procedures and fought grievance battles on the shop floor. He led many wildcat strikes, including one over his fellow worker Tony’s death.
Ed was smart about how he shared his political ideas. No radical efforts would amount to anything unless rooted in something real. “For me to have gone out to the gate and pass out the Socialist Workers Party newspaper, and not know anybody there, and expect to recruit thirty people by the end of the month, would have been insane!”
Ed’s actions spoke more than any labels. Not every radical was able to take the brutalities of the mills. “We saw many people come into the Brier Hill plant, real hotshots,” he said. “Every shade of the rainbow as far as radicals went, from fiery communist to whatever, but they couldn’t stay! They could run off at the mouth pretty good, write manifestos, but they couldn’t stay and do the job.”
The situation was simple: “We could express ourselves. We weren’t afraid of the boss. We were always thought of, ‘Hey, look at these radicals, look at these reds.’ But we would do our job. You got a job, you did it. You are not a slacker. You didn’t do any extra. You helped your fellow worker. Over the years you develop a certain credibility.”
Ed was friendly and open on principle at least as much by disposition. “If you’re going to be a socialist, you’ve got to be sociable,” he quipped. He built his organizing on quality shift work and worker accompaniment. He soon found himself a key player in United Steelworkers of America Local 1462.
Against Bullshit
In 1973, USWA 1462 elected Ed as president. He was laser-focused on building democracy from the ground up. “We were trying to build a union in the plant, not worldwide,” he said. “We gave them democracy in the local.” He began an all-out assault on corruption. Before, officers had fixed elections. Union leadership had sided with the company in grievances. No more.
Ed helped establish the local’s first internal newsletter, the Brier Hill Unionist. The paper kept workers updated on all union activities and issues. Ed also opened union education to all members. He fought to enable the rank and file of the local to vote on contracts themselves. By 1976, Local 1462 could boast that it was the only large Sheet and Tube union with up-to-date grievances.
“I believe in direct action,” Ed declared. “Once a problem is put on paper and gets into the grievance procedure, you might as well kiss that paper goodbye.” Bosses could easily manipulate grievances. “When corporations started recognizing unions, they saw this,” he explained. “They co-opted the unions with the grievance procedure and the dues check-off. They quit dealing with the rank and file and started dealing with the people who wanted to be bosses like them.” These were the loathed “union bosses.”
Union leaders wielded contracts against rank and file as much as management. That led Ed to hold union contracts with employers in great suspicion. “I think we’ve got too much contract,” he admitted. “I think the IWW had a darn good idea when they said, ‘Well, we’ll settle these things as they arise.’”
Local organization was key to winning gains. The international union would dispute 1462’s proposed resolutions. The “Ed Mann Team” helped the local hold its ground. They caucused, handed out leaflets, and set good examples of solidarity. They won on every resolution. It was an “unheard-of defeat for the international union.” Ed began to reach out to other unions only once 1462 “functioned as a local, without all the petty bullshit.”
Local 1462’s revolutionary spirit was palpable by the steel mill shutdowns of 1979. Enraged by the Brier Hill mill closure, Steelworkers marched into Mahoning Country Club. They decided on a surprise confrontation with Sheet and Tube superintendent, Gordon Allen. Taken aback and embarrassed, Allen said, “Now, Ed, you know we are handling this through the Union.” With one voice the gathered workers replied, “WE ARE THE UNION!”
“I’m Going Down That Hill”
Ed Man addressing the decisive meeting of Local 1330 on January 28, 1980
On September 19, 1977, “Black Monday” terrorized locals. The sudden announcement that Youngstown Sheet and Tube would close was devastating. 5,000 workers were immediately out of a job. The local economy collapsed. In the next several years, U.S. Steel continued to shutter operations. 40,000 workers in manufacturing alone would lose their livelihoods. Youngstown still struggles in Black Monday’s long shadow.
People didn’t take it lying down. The community came together as workers began a fight for control of the local steel industry. Against the odds, Ed and countless others rallied workers. They fought for community ownership of the nearby abandoned Campbell works. But the company refused to negotiate.
Ed gave up on some arbitration process that would never come. Why couldn’t workers make the bosses sit down and talk? The idea was a long shot–but the only option he saw. Two months earlier, 300 Youngstown steelworkers joined with local supporters in Pittsburgh. They occupied the first two floors of U.S. Steel’s national headquarters. The occupation lasted for several hours. Ed decided that that tactic needed further exploration.
Ed was full of passion as he addressed Local 1330 the morning of January 28, 1980. “I’m going down that hill and I’m going into that building. And any one that doesn’t want to come along doesn’t have to but I’m sure there are those who’ll want to.” It would be a last stand.
At least 700 workers marched to the U.S. Steel office building downtown. The crowd met no resistance. The workers took over the building. When they reached the top floor, they found a secret executive game room. “My daughter Beth changed her baby’s diaper on the executives’ pool table,” Ed boasted. For most workers, it was the first time they had defied the establishment. “People were proud.”
Ed was proud, too. But the workers dispersed once the company agreed to negotiate a deal. Three days later, the company again refused to come to the table. Ed was honest in his analysis of the action. “At the end of the afternoon Bob Vasquez, president of Local 1330, decided to end the occupation. But if we had it to do again, I know that he, and I, and every one I know who was there, would have stayed in that building for as long as it took.”
Arrested at Trumbull Memorial Hospital
Ed was a staple at local pickets. He disliked that Youngstown public schools didn’t teach labor history. Ed would take his grandchildren with him on the picket line. It was here that he and fellow workers gave them an education about their working class heritage. In 1982, police brutalized and arrested him at a picket. He had joined with striking Trumbull Memorial Hospital workers.
Prosecutors charged Ed with inciting a riot and resisting arrest. He was found guilty and had to appeal all the way to the Ohio Supreme Court. “I found that the case had a very devastating effect,” he reflected. “I didn’t do very much . . . . For four years I think I was intimidated. You’re not getting any younger.”
But the union at Trumbull Hospital survived. AFSCME Local 2804 lives on to this day, almost 400 workers strong.
Lessons from the IWW
Ed Mann joined the IWW in 1984. He became a member after he had already retired. It’s easy for eager young radicals to overlook or even suspect older generations. But this breakdown of trust between age groups is yet another function of capitalism. Retired folks have much to offer a radical solidarity union. This is true for the IWW and others, like Ed’s Worker Solidarity Club. Ed’s story is an opportunity to remind ourselves: “young and old together, we shall not be moved.”
Ed joined the IWW out of principle. It didn’t matter that he had finished working. He was a true believer. Ed also joined with LTV retirees to save worker pensions after the company’s bankruptcy. The group called themselves “Solidarity USA.” Solidarity was by then the enduring theme of Ed Mann’s life and work.
What was it that Ed admired about the IWW? “The IWW is a lot like the Solidarity Club,” he said. “Whoever wants to do their thing at the moment, does it. If you want to participate, you participate, and if you don’t, you don’t.” Ed compared this to the mainstream unions. “The AFL-CIO is afraid of getting fined for violation of a contract, but if you don’t have a treasury, what the hell good is it going to do to fine you?”
Ed liked the IWW’s insistence “that workers should exercise some power.” He agreed workers must make decisions “instead of handing it over to bureaucrats.” He encouraged union members to demand more of the AFL-CIO, but he didn’t hold out much hope for it. “It’s not going to do its job. It’s not structured to do its job,” he mused. Ed didn’t think anything of the vertical boss-worker system of the trade unions. “I don’t regard the AFL-CIO as ‘the union.’ I think the union’s in the people.”
Ed advised being ready for the ‘right moment’ as key to success. Someone has to be laying the groundwork for the eventual class conflict. “Who knows what is going to make the workers say, ‘This is enough’? But the point is, somebody has to be there when they say, ‘This is enough!’”
Ed saw union contracts as an opening for corporate doublespeak and little else. Companies like to say they want workers to participate in management. Yet companies give away no real decision-making power. Labor contracts outline management rights, often for pages. But workers have no power in hiring, firing, disciplining, or the rules of production.
Ed saw the IWW’s vision as a more hopeful one for the future than the AFL-CIO model:
“The Wobblies say, ‘Do away with the wage system.’ For a lot of people that’s pretty hard to take. What the Wobblies mean is, you’ll have what you need. The wage system has destroyed us. If I work hard I’ll get ahead, but if I’m stronger than Jim over here, maybe I’ll get the better job and Jim will be sweeping floors. But maybe Jim has four kids. The wage system is a very divisive thing. It’s the only thing we have now, but it’s very divisive.
“Maybe I’m just dreaming but I think there’s a better way.”
Glimpses of a New World
Ed’s biggest labor actions are significant on their own merits. He democratized USWA 1462. He organized steel workers and community members to fight against the shutdowns. He put his body on the line for striking workers. But what makes them especially relevant to us is that they all happened before he was in our Union.
Ed’s story shows that the solidarity we need is already within the people we’re seeking to organize. It was in him before he joined us. His story also shows that the spirit of solidarity is not something limited to the shop floor. It can extend beyond into workers’ everyday lives. Just as the wage system shapes every part of our lives, so must solidarity.
From Ed, we can gain a focus on the tactical value of building concrete local power. Without it, no movement can ever become enough to build workers’ democracy. As Youngstown alone could not fight the steel industry bosses, no one community can build a new world on its own. But local communities can come together if they are willing and organized.
Nobody has found a substitute for the solidarity of the rank and file. That’s you and your coworkers, neighbors, and friends. Focus on the avenues for organization and solidarity right in front of you. There are paths open to you, closed to the rest of us. We all need you to help the work along right where you are.
Don’t get distracted by any bullshit.
References
You can learn more about FW Ed Mann and the fight to save Northeast Ohio’s steel mills in Staughton Lynd’s work, “The Fight Against Shutdowns: Youngstown’s Steel Mill Closings.” Ed is also featured alongside other Northeast Ohio workers in the short documentary film about the shutdowns, Shout Youngstown! Most facts about Ed’s life and all quotes are taken from a copy of his autobiography, “We Are the Union: The Story of Ed Mann” first given to me by Alice and Staughton Lynd. It is currently out of print.
Staughton Lynd passed away Thursday morning, November 17, 2022, in Warren, Ohio. He had been in and out of the hospital for several weeks with worsening health, until finally Staughton and his family reached the decision to discontinue aggressive treatment and seek palliative care. His wife Alice, and their children Barbara, Lee, and Martha, accompanied him in his final days, along with the countless friends near and far whose lives he impacted so deeply.
Staughton, second from the right, and fellow Vietnam War protesters in 1965, shortly after being doused with red paint outside the White House.
There are countless articles about his deep scholarship and the wide impact of his activism. Others can tell the stories of his time training teachers for the Freedom Schools of the SNCC, or his leadership in the anti-war movement during the Vietnam War. Staughton was the author of several notable books over the years and he served as a teacher, activist, public intellectual, and a lawyer for decades. But he was also a great friend to our Union and to all of our organizing. And in his last few months, he became a surprisingly dear friend to one nearby Wobbly from the Northeast Ohio GMB.
I first met Staughton and Alice at the end of a Youngstown May Day event this year. They each gave talks that day, and I dragged my whole family along to hear them. Wrangling my toddlers, I was only able to make it for Staughton’s talk at the end of the day. He discussed Starbucks and Amazon, and rebuilding a labor movement “from below” through the sheer strength of our own solidarity. But the talk was not what impacted me so much. It was afterward, when the gathering ended, the Lynds led us in singing “We Shall Overcome.” At the chorus, Staughton belted out, “Deep in my heart, I STILL believe: we shall overcome someday.”
It’s one of my favorites, but I’d never sung it with anyone before. Then I sang it with Staughton and Alice, and everything changed. Singing together was like a shot of adrenaline to my heart. There was something intangible, in that moment, that he passed on to me, and it rekindled hope. And that hope was something I took home with me and carried into my organizing work and branch building work in the Northeast Ohio GMB. I wanted to show them what we were doing in Northeast Ohio and in the IWW, so I tried every way I could to send them an email. Finally I just wrote them a letter and mailed it to their home address.
Staughton was one of the earliest notable critics of the Vietnam War.
To my surprise, they answered.
I didn’t recognize that number calling me one Sunday. I paid it no mind on Monday, either. But Tuesday, I finally checked my email: “Dear Joe, we tried several times to reach you by phone today but you were not available…” (Fellow Workers, I have never picked up the phone in such a rush as when I called them back.)
In the weeks since that first call, Staughton and Alice have shared so generously of their time, wisdom, and friendship with me and with our branch. We quickly started planning events together, and Staughton did not want to wait a single day. We gathered people to watch Shout Youngstown!, a short film about organizing to save our local steel mills. Like any consummate organizer, as soon as people were gathering in the room we rented, he turned to us and asked for a pen and paper to start gathering contacts. At the end of that event Staughton asked that we play his favorite song, Paul Robeson singing “I Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill Last Night”, and once again we sang together.
He was planning steps ahead of us. Staughton was already talking about future actions, like helping a group get together to protest a dangerous incinerator project in Youngstown, and starting a reading group, and asking our GMB if we could take some of his books to start a Worker’s Library, and making plans to come visit the activist space where we had just begun in-person meetings. My heart was bursting when he came over at the end of the night and wrapped his arm around my shoulder as the whole room sang “Solidarity Forever.”
Staughton never officially joined the IWW. No matter. He and Alice have been our unassailable friends, allies, and fellow workers for decades. He told me that he and Alice have learned much from the IWW. But our Union has learned and gained so much from them. And even with Staughton’s impressive academic career, his historic activism, his role in defining solidarity unionism and our own internal debates about what those words mean, nothing he gave us can mean more than his deep and abiding friendship and his unshakable love for our movement. Every bit of news about the union we shared, from the smallest detail about our local organizing to broad sweeping pictures of the IWW as a whole, was met with joy. His friendship and love for our movement is a lesson to all of us in the deepest meaning of solidarity.
I was so blessed to share a few hours with Staughton one more time on November 7. I visited him that morning in the hospital. Staughton had been so ill he was unable to reach the phone, so I dialed Alice and put her on speaker. I’ve never seen such light in a person’s eyes as when Staughton heard Alice pick up on the other end.
Diana Ludgwig via flickr. Alice and Staughton present their memoir, Stepping Stones, outside the Unitarian Universalist Church of Youngstown on July 6, 2009.
Remembering how much he loved Joe Hill, I brought Staughton my prized pin depicting Joe Hill with his guitar. We had bonded over our love of Joe and how, just as Paul Robeson sang, he lives on wherever workers organize. Staughton held my pin up to the light and said, “Bury me with this.” He looked at me and I nodded.
We talked together until my visit had gone on too long. “All right, Fellow Worker,” I told him, “I think it’s time I gave you some rest. I’ll see you on the other side of this.” After a moment, I moved to the doorway and raised my fist: “Solidarity Forever, my friend.” And Staughton, smiling with his eyes, raised himself straight as a beam in bed and imparted a final farewell, his fist held high: “Solidarity Forever!”
Sometime after our visit, Staughton suffered a heart attack and kidney failure. Staughton Lynd will long remain among us, through his books and his ideas, through the countless stories we tell, and in the memory of the incredible love and solidarity he shared with all of us. His work has hardly ended, however. We have to build on his ideas and bring solidarity unionism to life. The community he represented in Youngstown after Black Monday is still fighting for new jobs and in new industries. The prisoners he wrote about and defended, the Lucasville Five, are still on death row today with the first scheduled to be executed in one year. There is much work to be done.
And even knowing all that, one of the things he impressed on us most often was how important it really is that we keep getting together and singing with each other. It is from Staughton Lynd that I learned how to “walk hand in hand.”
Starbucks Targeting LGBT+ Union Organizers in Northeast Ohio
Truly, the bosses at Starbucks know no shame.
I have been following the Starbucks national campaign generally since it began, but now I have the chance to bring to light a new piece of that drama that had seemed beyond my personal horizon.
In the last week of July, I was privileged to have two calls with one of the Organizers of the now successful University Circle Starbucks union campaign. Ken, had just gotten over his own bout with COVID a few days prior, making me even more grateful than I already was. What we discussed has fanned the flames of my own discontent and desire to help all my fellow workers in Northeast Ohio. The stories of his union’s exploits have reshaped my understanding of our area and the wonderful people working to better it.
Solidarity forever! OBU, Joe x409232
P.S. Since writing this, Starbucks hasn’t let up. Corporate continues to fire organizers, harass workers, and manufacture fear. Personally, I don’t think it’ll work. Starbucks Workers are made of tougher stuff than that.
Chapter 1: Workers Unite Around the Starbucks Cup
Starbucks stuff looks good on paper when you’re coming right out the door. ‘Hey, we’re the customer service job that gives you health insurance!’ But you can’t get the hours or the time to go to the doctor.
It was while I was working at Starbucks. I had always been involved in things on the outskirts. I became a member of DSA and an organizer around the same time. I had been to a couple of protests or actions. Friends would call and say they needed support, so I’d show up.
How long did you work at Starbucks?
I started at Starbucks in spring of 2019. I actually left for a time and was re-hired in September 2020. Back then, I had heard Starbucks gave trans-related health care coverage. I had worked customer service jobs at bakeries and restaurants in Little Italy. Previously, I had been living just under the Medicaid line, but I kept getting denied and wasn’t sure why.
Would you say that Starbucks accurately represents itself as a progressive employer?
Starbucks stuff looks good on paper when you’re coming right out the door. ‘Hey, we’re the customer service job that gives you health insurance!’ But you can’t get the hours or the time to go to the doctor. Same thing with the partner cup fund: it comes from baristas, not the company!
How was Starbucks’ health insurance coverage in your case?
Not great. I was making like $10 an hour then and the best plan would’ve taken almost $300 per check. Plus, another $4,000 out of pocket for my top surgery.
If each check is under $600– working as much as my managers let me, how am I supposed to save that? Especially if I have to take time off work!
I had to make a hard choice. I found out I still qualified for Medicaid with my hours at Starbucks. I had slow hours for a few weeks and applied for Medicaid one more time.
What happened after you applied for Medicaid?
We lost staff and my hours got bumped back up. I needed to gross less than $1,382 a month in Ohio, so I needed to be careful. My manager didn’t respect my schedule at that time, so I left in November 2019 and took a job at a nearby bar called ABC the Tavern. That location unfortunately closed during COVID.
Did ABC the Tavern treat you better?
I would’ve never went back to Starbucks had the east side ABC the Tavern not closed. Their west side location hosts DSA meetings. They only have two locations and tried to bring over anyone who wanted to work from the location that closed. They purchased another bar at one point, called Ontario, and they fired none of the workers. They had to close Ontario eventually but they transferred everyone and bumped up pay for people with longer drives.
How did you end up returning to Starbucks?
My manager asked me to reapply. I went back to the Cleveland Clinic location, which was the fourth busiest Starbucks in the country at one point and the busiest in the district.
[Things were so backed up] when I started back there about September 2020, from the time nurses got into the store it took 25 minutes to order and 45 minutes to receive your order. During this time it was only Cleveland Clinic staff ordering!
Chapter 2: Brewing Discontent
They don’t deserve to make more; they’re just making coffee.
What happened that made you finally decide, “Yeah, I’m gonna organize this Starbucks”?
It was approaching winter, I was a shift supervisor. I was watching my baristas just work, and work and work and work.
At that time I was making $13.50. That’s $1 more than I was offered. My baristas were making less than $12, $11.70ish. I think some were making less than $11. Starbucks announced they were raising baristas to $12/hr sometime in October. This bumped shift supervisors to starting at something like $14, I think maybe $15.
In August, the people in Buffalo went public. At first, it didn’t immediately pick up steam for a week or so, before they published their letter or something like that. Around that time is when Starbucks announced the raise to $12.
That clearly wasn’t enough to satisfy you or your fellow workers. Why was that?
Starbucks had its most profitable year in history this previous financial quarter, I believe. Up 7% in 2019, a 28.4% increase in 2020; as of March of 2022 it was a 32.34% increase over the last year. They’ve had record profit growth through the pandemic. $21.9 billion in 2022 as of March! The company’s net income was $4.408 billion, representing a 342% increase.
This increase happened when, in theory, more stores closed and fewer employees were working!
I did the math for Cleveland. In Cuyahoga, with the average cost of living– [what Starbucks offered was] like $200 less than the minimum for a one bedroom apartment, without a roommate or a vehicle. I didn’t factor in car insurance or loans.
So I brought this up with my manager. I felt the people in my role deserved more too but we were at least making enough to live alone with a car.
My manager said, ‘If you wanna make more, go be a nurse. You should go work somewhere else.’ I said, ‘It doesn’t bother you that these people are coming in, working 40 hours a week
and never taking a week off– and still cannot keep their lights on?’ He said, ‘They don’t deserve to make more; they’re just making coffee.’
Luckily, he was on his way out. He left the company less than a month later.
I brought it up with our new manager and, to his credit, he did actually try! He and another manager were drafting a proposal to increase the district barista starting rate. He brought it to the district manager, who is also no longer with the company (and posted publicly it’s because of the company stance on unions). The two of them approached him and he agreed with the proposal for $14.
How did proposing the raise through management turn out?
The regional manager only approved it for Cleveland Clinic stores. I guess we weren’t supposed to talk about it but I just kept talking about it. I said, ‘Clearly this isn’t enough, this isn’t correct. The people living in Cleveland Heights or Lakewood still need to pay rent and keep their lights on.’
We were coached in a meeting that, hey, it’s obvious the baristas are bummed lately, so try to help raise their spirits. ‘Ask what’s wrong, seem invested in them,’ that’s what the store manager told us. And I said, ‘What if the problem is they can’t pay their bills or buy food, no matter how many hours they work here?’
He said we could direct them to the partner cup fund that the baristas (not the company) pay into. But to even qualify you have to drain your entire 401k first!
After your regional manager denied workers their raises, what was your next move?
I reached out to the people in Buffalo about a month after the talk with the first manager. Buffalo went public and I brought my concerns up with the second manager.
Richard Bensinger from Workers United spoke with me when I reached out. I said, ‘Hey, I support what you’re doing. People here are working their asses off without even a place to live. What do you need from me? What can I do? I want to commit myself to this.’
It was amazing being able to see what a bunch of people like myself and the other baristas were able to do! Especially because they have crazy rules in Buffalo. Like it’s against the rules to be friends with the people you work with and so they’ll transfer you if you’re too friendly on the floor together.
What did you bring back from Buffalo?
Well, I was trying to work at the Cleveland Clinic location but the turnover rate is 92% or something like that. It’s really intense there. Most of the people there will quit within 90 days. Maybe the ones that don’t are there for a year.
People just got burned out. We’d get 2-3 people, and we’d get a fourth, but by then someone would quit. It was hell working there. I watched seven people get fired in the year, just in the middle of our lobby. So I don’t blame the people that left.
In October 2021, I reached out to a friend working at the University Circle location: Ava. ‘Have you seen what’s going on in Buffalo?’
I was at the Clinic for about a year and a half, till about November 2021. I was trying to do all this organizing work mostly alone. I approached Ava and she got the fire [to organize], too. Ava never took a leave of absence during COVID. She had been working for four years. She worked all through the pandemic.
So I scheduled an organizing conversation with her. We talked and I was just being honest with her: if you were able to make enough as a barista to survive, would you be a shift supervisor? ‘No, I wouldn’t be.’
A week later Ava came back and about 8 people were interested. So it was like– eight people, holy shit!
I had a conversation with my manager and she said she could make 30-35 hours (primarily in the mornings) work for me. I was transferred about three weeks later and we got to work!
What if the problem is they can’t pay their bills or buy food, no matter how many hours they work here?
Did you have any mentors or partners who helped with building your union?
Oh, yeah. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing!
Alex, another organizing partner, started making our friends and foes list, our “1-4s.” A lot of us didn’t know where to really start.
Pete got me connected to Akshai, who goes by Shay. Shay has organizing experience and is a member of Cleveland DSA. They’ve been connected to Pete and involved in everything. Anything Cleveland community based Shay is involved in. I’ve never met someone who does more. For example, they helped start Safer Heights in Cleveland Heights, an organization that holds police accountable for BIPOC safety.
Pete set up a meeting for Shay and me at a coffee shop. They’re the greatest, chillest human ever. They wanted to salt with me and I was like, ‘Absolutely!’ They brought our friend Lisa on– I refer to her as the brains. She has an organizing brain and has done organizing work, but she knows when, why, and how to call people. She’s so, so, so kind and a delight to be around and has put so much work into this campaign.
The three of us made a pretty good base. From there, Lisa started helping get our organizing conversations together: scheduling calls, reaching out to DSA. At that point I’d gotten involved [with DSA] too.
Chapter 3: 215℉ and Boiling Over
You don’t have to work and work and work alone until you die. That there are people who want to support you and want to support a true community.
How would you describe the overall success of Starbucks Workers United?
Our store was the 200th win! It’s been less than a year! It’s pretty amazing. I don’t know that there have been any official losses– I think they’ve been appealed and discovered there was Starbucks fuckery. Scabs right before the vote, hiring and firing right before, stuff like that.
Part of why the other Cleveland three stores were unanimous and ours wasn’t is because of the amount of fuckery at our store. Most people receive a date within 30 days of filing [for a recognized union] and we had to wait four months. Cleveland NLRB is completely overwhelmed. You see the same, like, three people every time you meet with them.
The Crocker Park location in West Lake filed for their union last week. That will be number five in the Cleveland area. From what I understand there are more people organizing at this point but no one has filed yet. So that’s pretty awesome.
What kind of collective actions have you taken as a union?
We had a sip-in at the UC location. At least 35 people showed up. That was pretty amazing. The union was at that point real to everyone on the organizing committee. But this made it real to everyone else.
Our ‘bananas’ manager even came for it. She worked a 13 hour shift so she could stay and watch the DSA be there for our sip-in. She stayed the whole time. I was like, ‘Girl go home, You are not getting paid for this!’
We had a rally outside a management meeting and about 50 people showed up. Management chickened out before we could confront them. We learned to hide next time and not show up 15 minutes early, or they just run or hide in the back until we leave.
What were your biggest successes during the campaign?
The wage increase is completely because of Starbucks Workers United and the work we’ve all done. Corporate told people they’d start at $15 in July– but they didn’t do it. Now they say they’ll do it in August but we’ll see. But the wage increases have already been significant for these low hourly markets.
A huge success is coming to know that you don’t have to work and work and work alone until you die. That there are people who want to support you and want to support a true community.
And seeing how scared Starbucks is! They’ve put millions into retaining Littler Mendelson, one of the biggest union busting law firms in the world. They’ve been working against Workers United since Buffalo. It’s nice to see ‘em scared.
To know that we have the worker power, that a tiny shop in Buffalo could start this…
What strategies have benefitted you the most in building the union?
Keep it on the downlow before you file, of course.
Showing up for your coworkers, remembering you’re all working together. Nobody wants to go to work everyday and have it be shitty all the time. That little bit of solidarity is a great place to start.
You don’t have to love everybody you’re working with, just respect. Everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect.
When it was all going on at the store, people would say they didn’t want to quit or find another job, and you don’t have to. You can work to make the workplace you’re in safer, more equitable. I understand why the long timers love this company because of how they treated you 10 or 20 years ago but it isn’t the case anymore. Just being able to talk to people so they understand why you’re doing this, what you’re working towards, is a good place to start.
What helped you win over more hesitant coworkers?
What helped with ‘maybes’ is asking what would make them say, yes. ‘What would make you say yes? What would make you say no?’ Because we did have a few people who were hard ‘maybes’ for a while.
We ended up winning because one of our hard ‘maybes’ switched to ‘yes.’ The vote at our store was 11-9. (My ballot was thrown out or it’d have been 12.) We knew there were 10 other yeses outside myself– and our 11th was our maybe. I think a lot of what changed her mind was the passion behind other people, knowing that the people organizing with you don’t hate the company but want it to be a better place for everyone who works there.
Prior to this, our manager, Stefanie, while really drinking the Starbucks Kool Aid, had always been pretty easy to get along with and work with.
The biggest challenge we were facing before we filed was that people were asking if it would negatively impact Stefanie. I said, ‘No, we’ll do everything we can to make her job safe.’ We only have so much power.
She kind of took care of that obstacle on her own, though. Workers didn’t like her much after the union-busting.
But Stef couldn’t change benefits, couldn’t raise pay, or really do anything. She’s not the one holding us at low level wages. Corporate is doing that to remain profitable. But the cost of living in Buffalo was lower than it was in Cleveland and they were starting $4hr higher than our baristas, $2 higher an hour than I was. Yet our stores are far more profitable because of the area they’re in.
Chapter 4: Corporate Flips the Frappe Out
Every pro-union worker had hours cut by at least 30%.
How has Starbucks responded since your union went public?
In February of this year, the West 6th location filed for a union. The other three Cleveland locations that filed were unanimous. They were able to do that more or less before they even filed.
In response to the West 6th filing, our store had mandatory captive audience meetings from corporate. The awful union busting district manager Beth, who has a podcast, replaced our manager that was trying to help get raises.
Ava had been averaging 35-40 hours and had been cut to 10. Then to five. Then to zero. During this time she got another job and said she’d restrict her availability. Stef said, ‘You can’t be a shift supervisor with that restricted availability.’ Ava asked if she’d be able to retain her employment if she stepped down from that role. Stef didn’t respond– this was all over text. So Ava moved some restrictions around. Stef never responded and continued to schedule her for zero hours. She only responded to Ava when she finally texted her to drop off her keys.
Ava had worked there for four years and through the entire pandemic. She ended up quitting. Good for her.
Has Starbucks targeted other local workers?
Every pro-union worker had hours cut by at least 30%. About a week after that, we filed sooner than we wanted to– but it was becoming impossible. We had 26 employees or so at our location. We ballooned to 36 over the next several months. All of our hours were cut.
There was another young pro-union member, Jane [Editor: name changed for privacy]. She was maybe 19 or 20. She had worked for Starbucks before but left for school.
She’d been accepted at another location but if managers can prove they have a higher need, they can take a new hire if they haven’t started somewhere yet. So she started at our store as shift supervisor. She’s great, bubbly, a really hard worker, and great at her job.
Managers started berating her as soon as she joined the union movement– just being really critical of her.
After we filed, a customer came in and asked if she could use the phone to call 911 because she wasn’t feeling well.Jane called for her and went into the lobby to sit with her. She held her hand while the customer started having seizures. I was able to go check and monitor the situation.
The next time she came in Stef reprimanded Jane for calling EMS and sitting with the customer until they arrived. I can’t imagine being so mad about a union that you’re upset with someone for helping during an emergency situation. This person had never had a seizure before. That’s terrifying.
Working at Starbucks was no longer good for Jane’s mental health. The constant critical bullshit from management continued and she took time off, then left Starbucks specifically because the atmosphere was far too stressful. Someone overdosed in the location bathrooms and workers found their body. These people make less than $11 an hour.
They cut out all regularity so you can’t sleep or eat or make any sort of life for yourself. They changed schedules midweek so that people would miss their shifts.
What can you tell me about how Starbucks’s actions have affected you and other organizers?
There are two Starbucks locations inside Cleveland Clinic. I was averaging 40-45 hours weekly for the first few months. Then COVID spiked in the winter and I averaged 60-70 hours a week.
I took a mental leave of absence during the campaign. We’ve had two partners hospitalized in mental health facilities and two or three take mental leaves of absence. The same can be said in other districts.
Has Starbucks’ union busting been smart for the company?
Not at all. If Starbucks had just done what the union wanted from the beginning they’d have spent far less. They are spending millions on anti-union lawyers. They brought back Howard Schultz who claims he isn’t taking a salary. Two CEOs have stepped down, Kevin Johnson and Rossanne Williams.
What tactics are they deploying to bust your union?
Firing somebody through not scheduling them has happened quite a bit. That’s how a lot of it started.
At Starbucks you have to maintain 20 hours or so weekly to keep health insurance. So if they cut you below that and tell you there’s no more hours for you, you lose insurance, college benefits– almost everything if you don’t meet the minimum.
After we filed, for about four months straight I worked two opening shifts a week (4:30 AM), two closing (till 9:30PM), and a midshift. They cut out all regularity so you can’t sleep or eat or make any sort of life for yourself. They changed schedules midweek so that people would miss their shifts. Managers would reprimand people on the floor in front of everyone, changing rules and procedures as they went and not applying rules to all the staff.
How did they apply rules to union staff and nonunion staff differently?
For example, another employee was no-call-no-showing, had sexual harassment allegations from another partner, and that employee never got fired.
But a union worker was fired for missing a shift that was changed midweek. Anti-union people had their hours increased; one of them had been working the same hours for about ten years. Another [antiunion] worker, who had been there about 17 years with the same schedule, had her hours increased.
Starbucks has now made it so you have to work a certain number of hours a week. We think it might be a way to get rid of union people who are in school or working multiple jobs. You must be available for a minimum of 18 hours per week to get scheduled for 12. It’s only for nonunion stores or ones not currently in the union process.
In what ways is Starbucks targeting queer and trans organizers like yourself?
We had partners who started working at Starbucks because they needed that health insurance. And now they’re not able to have access to insurance. We have a partner who had abnormalities on a routine check and hasn’t been able to afford the $4,000 out of pocket ultrasound to see what’s going on.
A manager told me I should’ve thought about paying my bills before transferring to another store.
I hit my head and got cauliflower ear– my coworker offered to cover me so I could leave early. The manager made fun of me in front of a new employee– a scab she hired. “Oh you’re a little sore?” No, my ear is filling up with blood.
Lisa had a concussion and had to get her shift covered last-minute. The manager told her it was ‘completely unacceptable’ and that she could never do that again.
One worker,TK, a person of color, was jumped. The first thing a manager asked was, “Was he black?”
I expressed that a long term employee had been making racially insensitive comments and made others uncomfortable. “Oh, she would never do that,” the manager said. She did, I witnessed it.
Can you tell me about when Starbucks fired you?
Sure. I have my termination notice in front of me.
I started receiving write-ups constantly for things that aren’t even in my job description or were not communicated to me. I hadn’t really been written up before.
I was written up for not having enough people to put a truck delivery order away during a shift. That doesn’t have to be done by the person there when it arrives; it’s done before closing through the day.
I was also written up for not “assigning tills”– literally taking an employee’s name off and putting another on. Before then, this was never an issue.
Here’s one from a day my manager didn’t even work. I apparently didn’t complete a station restock in one area of the store. It was “not filled to satisfaction” or something, but my manager wasn’t even there that day. Anyone who was there to inform her wouldn’t have had any authority to do so.
These writeups were all within three days, between the 8th-11th.
By this point we had already begun an unfair labor practice (ULP) suit on behalf of Ava, Jane, myself, and the worker whose shift was changed midweek. They began the process of separation for me– it became pretty obvious they were firing me.
After I received my write up, my last one more or less– a final warning in June– I asked in the beginning to step down from shift supervisor to barista. Citing the level of stress not being doable for me at that point, I just needed to take a step back.
My boss OKed the role change but then told me that ‘at this point it will take a little while for the paperwork to go through since a company lawyer is already involved.’ I was like, ‘Oh, I’m getting fired.’ I let my union people know what was going on. I was fired about a month later. Our ULP was sent to the store manager– she was informed– and she took a random 10 day vacation.
So the day I returned to work as a barista was the day I was fired by the district manager and West 6th Street store manager.
What was the actual reason they gave for firing you?
They fired me for “failure to execute shift supervisor approach” which was no longer the role I was in at that time. I had already expressed that I wasn’t doing a great job as shift supervisor due to the boss’s constant “coaching.” But I do a fine job as a barista and needed the money, the hours. Otherwise how could I perform that role for a year and a half at the second busiest store in the country?
They fired you from a position you weren’t in?
Fired me from a position I wasn’t in!
OK– you know I have to ask how it all went down.
I clocked in at 8 AM at Starbucks the day I was fired and… the daily coverage report showed I had a period scheduled for non-coverage. Usually training or something off the floor.
I approached the manager running the floor and asked if there was training that needed to be done. She gave me a task to start working on. 10 minutes later Taylor from W 6th and Beth, our district manager, show up.
“Beth and Taylor wanna talk to you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
One girl who had been on the fence about the union watched me get fired! I said, ‘It’s happening!’ She said, ‘No, it’s not, you haven’t done anything wrong.’
So Beth told me that ‘we’re separating you for failure to execute the shift supervisor approach.’ She said, ‘Don’t reach out to Stef–’ didn’t before, wouldn’t now– and started listing what I’ve told you.
“I hadn’t heard of a lot of the things listed there. My manager didn’t try coaching me through these situations, but I understand that you are separating me.”
They asked me to sign the paperwork and I said, no. They were like, ‘OK, we’ll go get your bag– you cannot go back there.’ I said I’d feel more comfortable if a friend grabbed it for me. “My bike is out front, I’m walking out front.”
“Leave your shift supervisor keys.”
“I don’t have any. I’M NOT A SHIFT SUPERVISOR.”
Classic. What’d you do with your newfound day off?
I was home by 8:35. So my amazing friend Lisa says, ‘Let’s go celebrate.’ By 11:15, we’re at this great bagel shop, Nubeigel. The owner comes out and says he’s running out of bagels. He jokingly asks if anyone needs a job.
How are your fellow workers holding up under the pressure?
Morale is really low from all the union busting tactics.
Our Workers United rep, Matthew, says our University location has had more union busting than any of the other stores he’s working with. It was honestly pretty unexpected.
What has been the reaction from the community towards your union push?
Cleveland DSA held a rally after I was fired. (I couldn’t be there because I had COVID!) I found this amazing community, so many kind people who came together because they wanna help. Not just with Starbucks, with everything. Having people from DSA come out and help– I don’t think people struggling at their hourly rate realize there are hundreds of people here who are ready to help them.
I fully, genuinely believe workers rights are human rights. With the way everything is going, knowing something might happen but the Union has your back… not just work, but at home. If you need to get out of a situation, call your union, call your lawyer.
Knowing there’s that community and safety net behind you is amazing. Even getting the job at Nubeigel– if I hadn’t been organizing with Lisa I’d probably still be looking for a job. I wouldn’t have this amazing community, or have connected with IWW, doing all the things I’m doing now.
How can members of the Northeast Ohio IWW and the broader community help?
There is a Starbucks Workers United gofundme. That’s a big one, that directly goes to us. Just in the past three days we’ve had four or five people in our group chat say they need emergency funds to help with rent and bills. Everyone has had to cut into their savings and use all their PTO to not die. Donating to that directly is REALLY helpful.
If any folks are involved with DSA, their primary Cleveland labor campaign is Starbucks. Come out and help them at their events.
Go to your local Starbucks and talk about how awesome the movement is! “Did you hear about Cleveland? Their stores are 4/4 now!” Say hi to the union workers and say how awesome it is that they’re doing this. Morale is down, they need it! There has been a lot of retaliation; only one person at West 6th is left who was on the organizing committee.
Remind Starbucks workers about their Weingarten rights– you can start doing that NOW. If your manager says, can we talk, and you ask if the conversation involves any disciplinary action, you can say, “OK, I’ll wait for my union rep!”
If someone doesn’t want to support Starbucks right now, go in, order a water under Union Push or something similar, and tip in cash. We’re not asking at all for a boycott at this point. People have to pay their bills.
You can also tip cash in Starbucks. You cannot actually tip on your card at the register. They do more retail this way than Google Pay and many other major companies.
Do you feel any resentment toward Starbucks after all this?
We as people deserve to live, but I don’t hate Starbucks. They do and support good things. But they deserve people who want the job because it fuels them and they enjoy it and do it well, not because they have to keep the lights on.
Why should other workers consider organizing?
Organizing has been one of the most fulfilling parts of my life so far. Even if today isn’t a success, people showed up. Next time, double it. You’re lighting a fire in the community that is so long overdue.
Starbucks worked us as hard as they physically could for record profits. In corporate, you’re a number. In a union, you’re a comrade.
