A Job Just Begun
By Jimmie Turner
An organizing victory is a glorious feat, but it leaves another hurdle — a first contract.
LOS ANGELES
Don’t break out the champagne yet. It’s easy to get caught up in the euphoria following a union organizing victory. The workers have prevailed despite months of management intimidation and stall tactics; they’ve accomplished something that a lot of people told them could never get done. When the final vote is tallied they shout with joy. They hug. They cry. They’re ready for a big party.
Before the victors get too excited, however, they must be reminded that their fight is just in the middle rounds. Starting immediately, plans for securing a first contract need to be developed — because the managers who lost may try to break the newfound employee spirit by stringing out the negotiations.
A MODEL PROGRAM. Armed with AFSCME’s first-contract model, a team of recreation assistants (Local 741, Council 36) from the Los Angeles Recreation and Parks Department is in the process of negotiating their inaugural agreement. To keep the workers involved and active during collective bargaining talks, the techniques used in the organizing campaign are extended into negotiations: Leaders from the unit are assigned to parks so they can inform and mobilize their peers on a weekly basis; other activists reach out to the media and labor supporters in the community to put pressure on management to deal with the union’s demands.
Those activities preserve the worker solidarity that flourished during organizing. In doing so, they help sustain union negotiators through contract proceedings that can be demanding.
For example, 315 bus drivers and aides in Waukegan, Ill., had to wage a high-stakes campaign to win a first contract with their employer, First Student Inc. As soon as Waukegan’s new AFSCME members wrapped up their organizing battle, they formed a negotiating committee made up of two groups: bargaining and solidarity. With the members and the community behind them, the employees imposed a strike deadline because the company wasn’t willing to put a solid offer on the table. As a result, the two sides sat down for 22 hours, and an agreement was reached just days before the strike date.
L.A. recreation assistants, who voted overwhelmingly for AFSCME in June 2000, face the same kinds of hurdles. Despite a unanimous vote by the City Council to expedite bargaining talks, an agreement with the city has yet to be reached.
Local 741’s collective bargaining team first met with management last September. Judy West, one of the member negotiators, says the city has balked repeatedly during talks, countering the union’s proposals with "very insulting" offers. She feels that the managers are trying to divide the group and break its members’ resolve. Her attitude: "We’re going to stick together. We’re not going to give up until we win a good first contract.
"People say, ‘If you get [the city] upset, maybe you’re not going to get anything.’ And I say, ‘We have nothing. There’s nothing to lose.’"
JUST ANOTHER NUMBER. Since 1940, recreation assistants have worked for the city as intermittent employees, which limits the number of hours they can work to 1,040 per year. Because of their status they are ineligible for health benefits, due process for grievances, and disability and pension benefits. Depending on the season, as many as 2,500 people work at approximately 170 centers.
To avoid having to pay benefits, recreation and parks officials instituted a policy that caps hours at 1,000. Such limitations put the rec assistants in a precarious position — trying to run programs that require them to work more hours than the imposed ceiling allows. They often wind up "volunteering" additional time and the city laughs all the way to the bank.
In June, AFSCME filed a class action lawsuit against the city on behalf of eight recreation assistants — claiming that the city’s intermittent employee-based system forces them to work off the clock to keep their jobs. Councilwoman Laura Chick told the Los Angeles Times: "These are city employees who are working with our youth. It’s an important job, and it is one that we should value."
One hundred recreation assistants attended a rally and press conference to announce the filing of the suit. All of Los Angeles’ major newspapers and television stations covered the event.
Worker frustration is clearly mounting: "Just because we’re part time does not mean we’re not human," says Lydia Corral, who’s been working in rec and parks for 25 years.
"I thought my job here was to create a caring and loving recreational environment for children to grow and develop," adds Christian Lutz, who runs the pre-school program at the Van Nuys/Sherman Oaks Recreation Center. "We’re people, not hours."
‘GREEN SWEATSHOP.’ Hundreds of recreation assistants have participated in activities to get bargaining moving. First and foremost, they want to eliminate the 1,000-hour cap, to force the city to pay workers for every hour worked. They’re demanding health benefits and incentives for longevity and retirement, stabilized work schedules to improve continuity and reliability in staffing, and restrictions on intermittent positions to jobs that are more seasonal in nature.
Workers presented a compelling case to the City Council. Last October, 50 employees poured into city hall and testified before the council’s personnel committee on what it means to work without benefits. At the hearing, the group also released a report, "Exposing Los Angeles’ Green Sweatshop," which details the abuses of this hidden and exploited workforce, and recommends ways to rectify the situation.
Stunned by the revelations, the council ordered recreation and parks department officials to compile a complete audit of their agency. In November, the council voted for "a swift conclusion to bargaining talks" with the rec assistants.
Lutz believes that department negotiators are stalling because a good first contract for him and his co-workers will create "a huge domino effect." Recreation assistants make up 16 percent of the city’s workforce, and they were the last unit to organize. "So they’re looking ahead and saying, ‘Wait a second. If we give them this, then these other locals are going to turn around and say, Hey, what about us?’"
To enlist the help of community leaders and pro-labor advocates, the workers have undertaken a massive community outreach program. They regularly leaflet in parks during special programs and festivals. The group also is meeting with newly elected City Council members to educate them about the Green Sweatshop and the campaign to end it.
SOLID FOUNDATION. Richard Andrews, a 15-year rec assistant, is a negotiator and one of several solidarity team members who visit various parks to talk to others. Without unity during tough negotiations, he says, the city would "rip apart" the members’ spirit. "By having AFSCME behind me, I can go out and do what I have to: Let the rec assistants know that they have a big brother who supports them now."
Through face-to-face talks, Andrews is able to reinforce a positive attitude among his co-workers. "If we don’t go to see them — and answer their phone calls and questions — just like anything else that’s left neglected, our plans will deteriorate and die," he cautions. And how do the rec assistants respond to visits from the solidarity team members? "They’re very appreciative. Next to a Brink’s truck pulling up with that $100 million check, I think they look forward most to seeing us."
Once a first contract is settled, Local 741 leaders will have to begin the process of building an active and effective union. Instead of waiting for the ink to dry on a deal, the union is already preparing for that responsibility: Negotiators are receiving steward training from Council 36. Classes, which started in January, are conducted before or after bargaining sessions.
Because there are so many centers, "we need to get our people ready to be able to handle all sorts of different situations," says Julie Munoz, another member of the bargaining team. "The steward training teaches us how to listen and really understand what is going on. That way, we can actually determine which complaints are grievances we should pursue."
MISPLACED PRIORITIES. "Honestly, the ones who run the show are the rec assistants," says Ady Gamez, whose words underscore their heavy-duty workload: caring for low-income children in after-school programs, running teen sports programs that are an alternative to drugs and gangs, and caring for homebound elderly citizens. Meanwhile, top managers in the recreation and parks department earn six figures, leaving the rec assistants to wonder: How can they justify their inflated salaries, yet deny us basic wages and benefits equal to that of other city workers?
The rec assistants work hard in spite of their indifferent bosses. The reason: pride and satisfaction in nurturing and guiding kids who — without recreation centers — could stray down the wrong paths.
Andrews’ experience has shown him that children need "stability and trust," qualities that take time to cultivate. If workers’ time is constantly capped or cut, "the children lose stability because there’s nothing regular in their lives, and over half of these kids don’t have anything regular outside our programs. If we weren’t needed, no rec assistant would run out of hours."
West puts it this way: "Some of our people have really made such a difference — have turned children around who were in gangs. That’s why it’s real important for us to stay focused during contract negotiations.
"We’re learning as we go, and we’re not going to give up."
