Recently, Michael Fryar, a lawyer formerly employed by the Connecticut Bar Association in New Britain, was fired, allegedly for beginning talks on unionizing the association.
Kevin Murphy, a representative of the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees Council 4, speaking on Fryar's behalf, claimed the firing was "clearly a case of anti-unionism."
My first response to this was -- no reference to Vice President Cheney intended -- "So?"
I can't remember the last time I heard about or from a union in central Connecticut, let alone about something any particular union had done for its workers. It seemed Fryar's reasons for wanting to form a union -- to have regularly scheduled performance evaluations -- was one only a lawyer would make.
Of course, the idea that an employee has been fired for trying to start a union is, itself, evidence a union is needed, since the purpose of unions is to prevent arbitrary and unilateral action by management -- action such as firing someone for talking about a union.
But once the union was formed, what is the likelihood it would do any actual good?
What do unions actually do, anyway?
My generation of 20somethings has a solid case for ignorance. Most of the picketing I've seen or heard of has been done by citizens protesting war, cruelty to animals or other ethical concerns -- such as the language used by an off-camera, off-work ESPN commentator -- rather than union workers on strike.
Until the Writer's Guild of America strike that put many of our favorite TV shows on hiatus sans heartwarming Christmas episodes, I had gone the better part of three decades not thinking about unions.
Even then, I grumbled along with millions of other Americans at not being able to watch my shows, rather than sympathizing with the demands of the writer, who seemed greedy of dishonest.
I'm not alone in my disdain for unions. According to a poll conducted by the Connecticut Business Industry Association, which represents more than 10,000 Connecticut businesses, 31 percent of respondents felt union leaders were "not trustworthy." An additional 20 percent were "not familiar" enough with the issue to respond. In fact, union leaders were considered more untrustworthy than political leaders, trial attorneys, the business community and employers. Connecticut seems to agree that unions are not the way to go.
But this is not good news. While the current presidential administration shifts funding from formerly federal social welfare programs to "faith-based initiatives" and encourages tax breaks for the wealthy, low-income Americans find themselves becoming poorer and balancing precariously above an increasingly frayed safety net.
If the government will not stand up for the rights of the working poor, many of whom are in manufacturing or retail jobs, someone else must; this is why unions exist.
Unlike entertainment industry strikes, which are high-profile, most union negotiations don't concern the rest of us directly; we can go on with our lives not knowing whether a local welder's union has dental insurance or whether postal workers get more or fewer paid vacation days than we do.
But the standard set for industry, especially the reinforcement of statutory rights -- laws set by the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, workers compensation or unemployment or disability benefits, for example -- keep us safe, whether we know it or not. They keep us safe from unfair treatment or hazards on the job, as workers and they guarantee that as consumers, what we buy will not make us complicit to injustice.
That's worth paying attention to.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
3/21/08: "Frivolous" fabulous if it replaces apathy
A few years ago, filmmaker Michael Moore pulled a political stunt on his television show, "The Awful Truth": He ran a ficus tree for Congress. Or he tried.
Officials were skeptical, irritated and finally enraged by Moore's continued insistence that his plant, over the 25-or-older age requirement for representatives and born -- or grown -- in the United States, should be allowed to run, if the petition he passed around gathered enough signatures.
Bumper stickers and signs were produced by campaigners, and Moore took the ficus plant in question all over the district, speaking on its behalf and imploring people to "Vote Ficus." The campaign ran itself as though it were serious, and Moore never broke stride in his drive for votes.
But of course a ficus could never win a seat in the House. That wasn't the point. A vote for a ficus plant was a vote for something else, something new.
Americans, especially young people, seem apathetic when it comes to traditional ways to be involved in civic life and politics. When they do get involved -- as in the ficus-plant campaign, supported mainly by young voters -- their brand of participation is usually seen as annoying or frivolous.
Students protesting at Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., last year, over the appointment of a university president they considered unfamiliar with deaf culture -- Gallaudet being the primary school for deaf students across the country -- were accused by pundits and citizens of not living in "the real world," where people have to put up with circumstances they don't like. The rage expressed by some people at these students, who participated in sit-ins that shut down the campus for weeks, was incredible.
And badly placed. Gallaudet students, the majority of whom are deaf, could hardly be accused of living in a dream world; the challenges they faced every day in a hearing world were likely more significant than a hearing person could understand. The anger against the protesters said more about those hurling insults than about the students.
Many Americans are disillusioned with "the system" -- of governmental politics-as-usual, corporate white-collared, cubicled life, of our societal focus on individualism and material wealth. The frustrated usually fall into two categories: those who feel that our responsibility is to buckle down, accept reality and do our duty, and those who protest against what they feel are grievous errors but cannot offer reasonable solutions or alternatives.
But a third category is emerging: People who want to change the system by creative thinking, by reinterpreting the boundaries and rules that frustrate them, who refuse to be disillusioned.
The young people supporting "Ficus for Congress" did not sit at home ignoring the issues or concerns of their district, despite their unhappiness with its representative candidates. The students at Gallaudet did not resign themselves to complaining to friends in the cafeteria and accepting the decisions of the powers that be. They expressed their opinions, made their issues known and their voices were heard. This is democracy.
Recently, the people of Brattleboro, Vt., passed a resolution indicting President Bush and Vice President Cheney for violating the Constitution. The resolution will have no effect, as the town has no legal authority to arrest the president or vice president should they ever visit Brattleboro, and the citizens of Brattleboro have been accused of wasting taxpayers' money -- that is, their own money -- of being puppets in a left-wing conspiracy, of not living in "the real world."
I say good for them.
Officials were skeptical, irritated and finally enraged by Moore's continued insistence that his plant, over the 25-or-older age requirement for representatives and born -- or grown -- in the United States, should be allowed to run, if the petition he passed around gathered enough signatures.
Bumper stickers and signs were produced by campaigners, and Moore took the ficus plant in question all over the district, speaking on its behalf and imploring people to "Vote Ficus." The campaign ran itself as though it were serious, and Moore never broke stride in his drive for votes.
But of course a ficus could never win a seat in the House. That wasn't the point. A vote for a ficus plant was a vote for something else, something new.
Americans, especially young people, seem apathetic when it comes to traditional ways to be involved in civic life and politics. When they do get involved -- as in the ficus-plant campaign, supported mainly by young voters -- their brand of participation is usually seen as annoying or frivolous.
Students protesting at Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., last year, over the appointment of a university president they considered unfamiliar with deaf culture -- Gallaudet being the primary school for deaf students across the country -- were accused by pundits and citizens of not living in "the real world," where people have to put up with circumstances they don't like. The rage expressed by some people at these students, who participated in sit-ins that shut down the campus for weeks, was incredible.
And badly placed. Gallaudet students, the majority of whom are deaf, could hardly be accused of living in a dream world; the challenges they faced every day in a hearing world were likely more significant than a hearing person could understand. The anger against the protesters said more about those hurling insults than about the students.
Many Americans are disillusioned with "the system" -- of governmental politics-as-usual, corporate white-collared, cubicled life, of our societal focus on individualism and material wealth. The frustrated usually fall into two categories: those who feel that our responsibility is to buckle down, accept reality and do our duty, and those who protest against what they feel are grievous errors but cannot offer reasonable solutions or alternatives.
But a third category is emerging: People who want to change the system by creative thinking, by reinterpreting the boundaries and rules that frustrate them, who refuse to be disillusioned.
The young people supporting "Ficus for Congress" did not sit at home ignoring the issues or concerns of their district, despite their unhappiness with its representative candidates. The students at Gallaudet did not resign themselves to complaining to friends in the cafeteria and accepting the decisions of the powers that be. They expressed their opinions, made their issues known and their voices were heard. This is democracy.
Recently, the people of Brattleboro, Vt., passed a resolution indicting President Bush and Vice President Cheney for violating the Constitution. The resolution will have no effect, as the town has no legal authority to arrest the president or vice president should they ever visit Brattleboro, and the citizens of Brattleboro have been accused of wasting taxpayers' money -- that is, their own money -- of being puppets in a left-wing conspiracy, of not living in "the real world."
I say good for them.
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