Follow The Work

That's the cry — and the strategy — an Illinois council is using as an innovative way to combat privatization.

By Clyde Weiss

When organizers for Illinois Council 31 first approached the employees of United Cerebral Palsy several years ago, they discovered a group of workers who were hesitant to form a union.

"Most were afraid of losing their jobs," recalls Harriet Baker (in white coat above with her co-workers at their 1995 organizing victory), a "residential trainer" who has worked at the Joliet facility for nine years. "You can't talk to the union," managers of the state-funded, privately run agency warned them. "You can't even talk in the bathroom to your co-worker about the union or you'll get written up."

But the union organizers didn't give up and the employees soon began to lose their fear. In 1995, they voted solidly to affiliate with AFSCME. It represented the first victory under the council's statewide Campaign for Care and Dignity, an ongoing endeavor to bring into AFSCME's family all workers at agencies that provide state-funded care and training for the mentally and developmentally disabled in Illinois. The effort not only has proved an organizing success, it has also become an integral part of Council 31's strategy to fight the privatization of these services, a practice known as "following the work."

Essentially, that tactic involves organizing workers in the private sector who are doing the same jobs as state or municipal employees, or whose jobs have been turned over to private agencies.

LEVELING THE FIELD. "It's one of our tools in the fight," says Tracey Abman, Council 31's organizing director. "We have to wage the political fight, the fight in contract negotiations, the fight in the community for quality services and accountability. But we also have to take out of the equation the issue of economics. We know that one of the reasons why there is an effort to privatize services is that [private agencies] can do it cheaper by paying less."

By organizing private-sector workers and improving their wages, benefits and conditions, the union eliminates cost as an issue. "Therefore, it's a huge weapon in stopping the privatization of services," Abman adds.

During the past three decades, the state has turned thousands of men, women and children who suffer mental and/or physical disabilities over to private-care centers, ostensibly for the benefit of the individuals. But the politicians' hidden agenda is saving money. This "deinstitutionalization," although beneficial in some ways, has had a profound effect on employees and the people who rely on them for the most basic care. At private agencies, employers pay lower wages, offer fewer benefits and provide less training than their state-run counterparts. So employee morale at these private facilities droops, and turnover rises. Inevitably, care suffers.

That's not something Carla Byes (second from left in photo, previous page) wants to see. An AFSCME member who works at United Cerebral Palsy of Will County, Byes has pride in her job and cares deeply for those in her charge. "It's not a high-paying place," she says, but her rewards are found in "caring about people and wanting to see someone live to the best of his or her ability."

What they do is fundamental for these disabled individuals. "We teach them basic living skills like brushing their teeth or combing their hair," or preparing those who are able to re-enter the community and get a job, she explains.

To date, Council 31 has organized about 3,000 employees of private-sector agencies that care for the mentally ill and developmentally disabled. The numbers keep growing, as evidenced by organizing victories this summer at Little City in Palatine and Trinity Services Inc., in Joliet. More than 700 employees at these agencies joined AFSCME.

But organizing private-sector workers is not unique to Council 31, which represents about 75,000 working men and women throughout the state. Nor is it new to the International Union. The policy of following the work was adopted as a resolution at AFSCME's 31st International Convention in 1994.

Several years ago, in the preamble to the AFSCME booklet, Following Our Work into the Private Sector, Pres. Gerald W. McEntee and Sec.-Treas. William Lucy declared that the union "has always been — and continues to be — unilaterally opposed to the privatization of government services. At the same time, we're determined to protect workers whose rights are compromised when governments turn to private contractors to provide public services. ... For that reason, the organizing of public service workers in the private sector — following the work — is a top priority for this union."

OVERCOMING HOSTILITY. Sometimes, as in the case of Little City, the employer and the union negotiate neutrality agreements in which the employer agrees not to oppose organizing efforts. In most instances, however, hostility is the rule.

At Frances House, another non-profit private facility for the developmentally disabled in Illinois, a supervisor threatened to "fire all the black workers," employee Beverly Campbell told the AFL-CIO's national convention in 1997. "They told us we'd never get a contract." But the workers won, and Campbell is now president of Local 3348.

Management hostility to unions ran deep at Beverly Farm, a privately run, state-funded facility for the developmentally disabled in Godfrey. The center's director was "as vehemently and ideologically opposed to unions as anyone I've seen," says Abman. Although he hired an anti-union lawyer to intimidate the employees, they nevertheless voted to join Council 31 in 1994. Then they spent the next five years fighting to win their first contract. Once they did the director quit.

Occasionally, management employs a subtler tactic: good cop — bad cop. A "good cop," notes Abman, "might say: ‘We're listening now, we didn't realize how serious the problems were — let's work together to address these things.'" Frequently, employers also will hand out raises to make employees feel they don't need a union.

The "bad cop" approach includes mandatory "captive-audience" meetings where, as Abman puts it, "workers are forced to hear speeches about how terrible the union is." Supervisors often hand out anti-union literature. They also may talk with individual workers, trying to raise doubts about the union. Notes Abman, "They follow [union supporters] around or try to isolate leaders from the rest of the workers so they can pick on those who are less informed and more vulnerable."

Still, the union keeps winning, and the victories aren't restricted to private-sector employees. "We have been able to stop the state from closing a state-operated facility as well," Abman notes. "But I think we've got a long way to go."

AT THE CAPITOL. Organizing is but one way to address privatization of mental health and developmental disability centers. Another is to improve the quality of the facilities. Consequently, the council has pressed state lawmakers to provide private-agency employees with a living wage and to enhance their training — not only to level the playing field, but also to improve care.

The state continues to fund these private-sector agencies, yet "ignores the negative impact that high em-ployee turnover and uncaring managers have on the quality of services the agencies provide," says Council 31 Deputy Director and International Vice Pres. Roberta Lynch. Evidence of the truth of that statement is found in a study the American Journal on Mental Retardation has published on the effect of closing state developmental-disability centers in California. Among more than 18,000 adults who received care in 1980-92, researchers learned, the death rate was 72 percent higher in the community homes than in state facilities.

As long as Illinois continues to push the disabled into private facilities that rely on state funds, therefore, Council 31 will continue to follow the work, removing the incentive to privatize while striving to improve the lives of those who provide care to the disabled.

Carla Byes knows first-hand how organizing can make a difference. When the union approached her, she was reluctant to join. "I said, ‘Why? Things are so much better than what I was used to [in a previous job].' What I didn't realize was that the things we had there weren't even close to what we should have been getting for the care we provide."

Byes adds that she feels much better about her job now that she and her co-workers have a union and an AFSCME contract. "But I know there's a whole lot more work that has to be done." Since joining the union, "I've been able to speak out about how I feel — and be heard."

More than a promise of better wages and benefits, joining the union "has to do with respect, and the care of the individuals" in their charge, says Harriet Baker, now president of United Cerebral Palsy and Easter Seals Local 3237. "We need to make sure that their medical needs are met — that they are not just vegetables in a nursing home, but have some sort of life, not just an existence."