Wikimedia Commons / Gillfoto
This summer, I worked at a “high-end” donut shop — believe me, they exist — a somewhat dull job despite its glamorous $5 confectionaries. Like many of my coworkers, I was only there temporarily, looking to make money over the summer and not concerned about the inner workings of the donut cafe industry. Our position as workers did not connect us as much as our shared experiences as students; we spoke about our classes and our favorite albums, and rarely took the time to discuss our experiences as minimum wage laborers or our inconsistent scheduling. We accepted our station as workers without a seat at the table because we felt we didn’t have the power to change it. Even if we did, we wouldn’t know what to ask for: we made more money than many of our college-age friends and had a relatively easy job. What did we have to complain about?
This worry-free relationship to labor is not a reality for many Americans. For the first time in many years, unions are making headlines, generating hope for organized labor at a time of increasing inequality. Amazon workers in New York have successfully organized against one of the world’s most powerful corporations. Railroad workers are threatening to strike, demanding safer working conditions and fairer wages. Here in Atlanta, three Starbucks locations have voted to unionize and are pressuring their employer for better pay. There has been a rise in class consciousness, a collective recognition of status and a feeling that one is being handed the short end of the stick — a surprising but promising development for workers who have been undervalued for years.
When workers decide to try and form a union, they are sitting down to a game with the deck stacked against them. Many corporations turn “woke” rhetoric into a union busting tactic, encouraging employees to see the company as a family that honors their voice and makes space for diversity, without providing them the protections and empowerment that unions provide. For example, nearly 35% of Fortune 500 companies have created employee resource groups, internal organizations with the stated purpose of providing support and safe spaces for workers of color. While these groups sound promising on the surface, in reality they serve to prevent workers from coalescing around their class interests. They spend money on parties and lounge rooms, minor benefits which are far from the changes their employees desire. Workers want better wages, protections from discrimination and more say in decisions that affect their lives, not performative corporate doublespeak.
Companies advertise themselves as having a culture of belonging and self-growth as a means to distract workers from their unfair conditions and shared experiences as members of a wage-laboring class. They tell workers that unions would be bad for themselves and the company, and argue that unions prevent the company from listening and working with their employees.
But they are selling a lie. Unions represent the workers interests, and are often the only way that workers’ concerns are addressed. Importantly, unions protect workers from gender- and race-based discrimination, and serve as a support group for employees. For example, women who are in unions make on average 10% more than their non-organized counterparts, and unions like the United Mine Workers Association have achieved protections for same-sex couples well before it was protected by law. Additionally, unionized workers are far more likely to receive paid leave, health insurance, and are nearly 50% more likely to have employer-provided pensions. Unions are not the corrupt organizations companies make them out to be; they are often the only ways in which employees can improve how they are treated and improve the conditions under which they work.
The anti-union rhetoric perpetuated by corporations has affected how workers view themselves and their interests. When companies tell workers that unions are a waste of their energy — that the company is there to listen to them and that a union would only get in their way — workers begin to question their desire and ability to organize. Employers insert themselves between workers, squashing unionization efforts often before they begin.
As college students, we often work service jobs as a means to an end, a stopping point on a road to “better” things, not a destination. Yet this is not true for most workers — they cannot merely sweep their exploitation under the rug because they will only endure it for a summer. Workplace organizing must be recognized as the empowering, democratic achievement it is, not as workers complaining when they could simply get a better job — a harmful consequence of meritocratic thinking which forces us to see success as individually determined. Unions are back, now we have to make sure they stay.
Carson Kindred (25C) is from Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Carson Kindred (he/him) (23Ox, 25C) is studying political science and philosophy and serves on the Editorial Board. He is a consultant for the Emory Writing Center and a research assistant for The Center for Working Class Politics. He recently worked for the Philadelphia District Attorney’s Office as a researcher supporting a community-led violence prevention program. In his free time, Carson loves to read, make music, and root for Minnesota sports teams no matter how bad they’re losing.
