Viva La Huelga: Demonstrating against Unfair Labor Practices
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by Sierra Stalcup
It’s 7 a.m…muffled chants shouted through a bullhorn grabbed me from sleep. Staccato blasts from car horns accompanied with long cries from a war-horn picked up in musical discord with the demanding chants. It’s 7 a.m.; what on earth could be going on?
Then it hit me; the Strike. I recalled the scribbled chalk messages on concrete planters throughout campus: 11/20 Walkout.
Already wet from the rain, I headed towards campus, prepared to break through the throng of strikers if need be. Unimpressed with the Ringmaster’s trite repertoire of chants used by countless little league baseball leagues in every American suburb, I made my way to class. The majority of the student population had a foggy idea of what these workers were striking for – for equality, for their wages? But many students remained oblivious to the actual cause and demand of the strikers. Their chants and signs gave little to no information on what I was looking to discover. Walking steadily to Dwinelle, I happened upon a snake of multicolored umbrellas and ponchos, marching to Kurtis Blow’s 1980’s hit “The Breaks”. Still unaware of the Strike’s cause, I happily entered the warm insides of Dwinelle.
Every student was in class. My professor even admitted that she found out about the movement only this morning: “sometimes you get so busy that you forget what’s going on in real life.” She urged us to look into the issues because they affect workers that make campus life possible. Everyone agreed. I had been so deeply buried in papers and exams that I had no time to pay any attention to “real life,’ I had no stance, no opinion on the movement that was carrying on outside of the doors of my classroom. Many of our peers felt the same way. They thought it was a waste of time, that the GSI’s skipping class to attend the demonstrations did not have the students’ interests in mind.
After class I decided to explore the issue. I headed to Sproul, the heart of all UC Berkeley demonstrations. Sure enough, a large crowd of people were gathered around the steps of Sproul Hall, listening to the speeches yelled through a bullhorn. Despite the rain, many people stood in the crowd, out of solidarity or out of curiosity. I soon realized that many of those in the crowd were part of the movement; under ponchos and jackets, members wore green AFSCME 3299 shirts. Most of the students walked quickly past the demonstration, only glancing for a few seconds at the commotion.
At the top of the hour the demonstrators marched to the entrance of campus, at the intersection of Bancroft and Telegraph, to make their presence even more visible and unavoidable. Students walking to class had no choice but to come face to face with the movement. A handful of students understood the message; some joined in, some started a discussion with their friends.
Strikes are meant to disrupt the day-to-day functions of an institution. They make us acknowledge those who work tirelessly for our convenience – those who help us with our classwork, those who prepare our food in dining commons, those who make our campus clean and safe for us to enjoy. Without these hardworking people, life on campus could not exist. We take these people for granted, we deny their existence, and so do the Regents who are expecting the health, student, and campus workers to pay more toward their benefits – to take a hit in their already low income.
I stood next to a group of strikers taking shelter from the rain in an alcove. I overheard conversation in Spanish, commenting on the long duration of the strike, and how the students and citizens have helped with gaining visibility for the cause.
The man next to me, who has been working for Cal Dining for as long as I have been alive, was more than happy to share his story with me. He felt that the intimidation suffered by the union advocates during negotiations was unfair, that it was not right for the Regents to make more than a living wage while the service workers suffered. He felt the system was making him out to be a fool when they handed him a fruit basket as a Christmas bonus in thanks for his many years of service. The rain cleared, and he went to join the marchers, to “make some noise for the cause.”
As I slowly walked toward my next class, I felt like I had gained the insight that I needed. The invisibility of the workers had been properly disposed of. I realized that unfair negotiation tactics and minimal wages made the lives of these workers a constant struggle. Strikes of this breed are meant to emphasize the importance of a position, to make us realize that their positions are vital to the healthy functioning of an institution such as the University of California. I have confidence that this strike, as well as the press that it will generate, will open the eyes of the many students who walk to class without acknowledging those who make the experience possible.
All photos taken by Caliber photographer Jonathan Reader.
[Source]: Caliber Magazine