Smithfield: Race and the union
By John Ramsey and Sarah A. Reid
Staff writers
Published on Sunday, December 21, 2008
Smithfield: Union vote leaves others unfazed
TAR HEEL — For two years, Harold Simmons watched the changing faces from his job as crew chief on the kill floor.
As much as Simmons hated to acknowledge it, he knew what those new faces meant: The union would finally gain a foothold at the world’s largest slaughterhouse — Smithfield Packing Co.
In just two years, the racial makeup of Smithfield workers has gone from mostly Hispanic to mostly black.
The change started in 2006, when Smithfield notified more than 500 workers that their names and Social Security numbers didn’t match. Months later, federal immigration officials raided the plant, arresting 21 Hispanic workers with the intent of deporting them.
Analysts say the raid, coupled with others in the area, created fear among Hispanic workers and led to an exodus — at the plant and throughout the community.
In 2006, more than half of Smithfield’s 5,000 workers were Hispanic. Today, Hispanics make up just 26 percent of the work force, a decline of about 1,000 workers.
Most of the workers who took their place were black people, many of whom were eager to join a union on the promise of improved working conditions and better pay.
On Dec. 11, workers approved the union by a vote of 2,041-1,879.
Although there is no way of knowing the racial breakdown of the vote, analysts and workers such as Simmons say the new black majority proved to be the difference.
http://www.fayobserver.com/article?id=313759
Showing posts with label Smithfield Raid. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Smithfield Raid. Show all posts
Monday, December 22, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Why the Union Won at Smithfield
Why the Union Won at Smithfield
By David Bacon
Original source: The American Prospect
December 20, 2008
When immigration agents raided Smithfield Food's huge North Carolina slaughterhouse two years ago, organizer Eduardo Peña compared the impact to a "nuclear bomb." The day after, people were so scared that most of the plant's 5,000 employees didn't show up for work. The lines where they kill and cut apart 32,000 hogs every day were motionless.
Yet on December 11, when the votes were counted in the same packing plant, 2,041 workers had voted to join the United Food and Commercial Workers (UFCW), while just 1,879 had voted against it. That stunning reversal set off celebrations in house trailers and ramshackle homes in Tarheel, Red Springs, Santa Paula, and all the tiny working class towns spread from Fayetteville down to the South Carolina border.
Relief and happiness are understandable in North Carolina, where union membership is the lowest in the country. But Smithfield workers were not just celebrating a vote count. They'd just defeated one of the longest, most bitter anti-union campaigns in modern U.S. labor history. Their victory was the product of an organizing strategy that accomplished what many have said that U.S. unions can no longer do – organize huge, privately-owned factories.
In 1994 and 1997, Smithfield workers voted in two union representation elections, both lost by the UFCW. In 1997 the head of plant security, Danny Priest, told local sheriffs he expected violence on election day. Police in riot gear then lined the walkway into the slaughterhouse, and workers had to file past them to cast their ballots. At the end of the vote count union activist Ray Shawn was beaten up inside the plant. Three years later Priest, while still head of plant security, became an auxiliary deputy sheriff, and plant security officers were given the power to arrest and detain people at work. The company maintained a holding area for detainees in a trailer on the property, which workers called the company jail. (Smithfield gave up its deputized force and detention center in 2005.)
Management used such extensive intimidation tactics that both elections were thrown out by the National Labor Relations Board. In 2006 the NLRB forced Smithfield to rehire workers fired in 1994 for union activity, and pay them $1.1 million. That was a victory for the union, but workers on the line could also easily see that Smithfield lawyers kept union supporters out of work for over a decade, in violation of the law.
In 2003 contract workers for QSI, a company that cleans the machinery at night, finally challenged that atmosphere of fear. According to Julio Vargas, a QSI employee, "the wages were very low and we had no medical insurance. When people got hurt, after being taken to the office they made them go back to work and wear pink helmets [to humiliate them]. We were fed up." Led by Vargas, the cleaning crew refused to go in to work. The company negotiated, and workers won concessions. The following week, however, those identified as ringleaders, like Vargas, lost their jobs.
Nevertheless, a new group of UFCW organizers understood the importance of that work stoppage. "We're not going to give the company a chance to use union busters anymore," said Peña. "We're asking workers to take direct action on the plant floor to improve their own conditions." So the union set up a workers' center in nearby Red Springs, holding classes in English and labor rights. Vargas and other fired workers went to work for the UFCW, organizing discontent over high line speed and its human cost in injuries. Workers began to stop production lines to get the company to talk with them about health and safety problems.
In April, 2006, as immigrant protests spread across the country, 300 Smithfield workers stayed out of work and marched through the streets of nearby Wilmington. On May 1 they paraded again, this time by the thousands.
Those heady days, however, were followed by a series of immigration enforcement actions orchestrated between the company and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents. On October 30, 2006, the plant's human resources department sent letters to hundreds of immigrant workers, saying the Social Security numbers they'd provided when they were hired didn't match the government's database. Managers gave them two weeks to come up with new ones.
"On November 13 over 30 were escorted out of the plant," recalled Peña. "Many felt they had nothing to lose." That Thursday over 300 workers walked out. They met at a local hotel, came up with a list of demands, and got church leaders to intercede with the company. Smithfield agreed to a 60-day extension, and to rehire those already terminated. "It's hard to imagine how empowered people felt," Peña recalled.
http://www.politicalaffairs.net/article/articleview/7889/
By David Bacon
Original source: The American Prospect
December 20, 2008
When immigration agents raided Smithfield Food's huge North Carolina slaughterhouse two years ago, organizer Eduardo Peña compared the impact to a "nuclear bomb." The day after, people were so scared that most of the plant's 5,000 employees didn't show up for work. The lines where they kill and cut apart 32,000 hogs every day were motionless.
Yet on December 11, when the votes were counted in the same packing plant, 2,041 workers had voted to join the United Food and Commercial Workers (UFCW), while just 1,879 had voted against it. That stunning reversal set off celebrations in house trailers and ramshackle homes in Tarheel, Red Springs, Santa Paula, and all the tiny working class towns spread from Fayetteville down to the South Carolina border.
Relief and happiness are understandable in North Carolina, where union membership is the lowest in the country. But Smithfield workers were not just celebrating a vote count. They'd just defeated one of the longest, most bitter anti-union campaigns in modern U.S. labor history. Their victory was the product of an organizing strategy that accomplished what many have said that U.S. unions can no longer do – organize huge, privately-owned factories.
In 1994 and 1997, Smithfield workers voted in two union representation elections, both lost by the UFCW. In 1997 the head of plant security, Danny Priest, told local sheriffs he expected violence on election day. Police in riot gear then lined the walkway into the slaughterhouse, and workers had to file past them to cast their ballots. At the end of the vote count union activist Ray Shawn was beaten up inside the plant. Three years later Priest, while still head of plant security, became an auxiliary deputy sheriff, and plant security officers were given the power to arrest and detain people at work. The company maintained a holding area for detainees in a trailer on the property, which workers called the company jail. (Smithfield gave up its deputized force and detention center in 2005.)
Management used such extensive intimidation tactics that both elections were thrown out by the National Labor Relations Board. In 2006 the NLRB forced Smithfield to rehire workers fired in 1994 for union activity, and pay them $1.1 million. That was a victory for the union, but workers on the line could also easily see that Smithfield lawyers kept union supporters out of work for over a decade, in violation of the law.
In 2003 contract workers for QSI, a company that cleans the machinery at night, finally challenged that atmosphere of fear. According to Julio Vargas, a QSI employee, "the wages were very low and we had no medical insurance. When people got hurt, after being taken to the office they made them go back to work and wear pink helmets [to humiliate them]. We were fed up." Led by Vargas, the cleaning crew refused to go in to work. The company negotiated, and workers won concessions. The following week, however, those identified as ringleaders, like Vargas, lost their jobs.
Nevertheless, a new group of UFCW organizers understood the importance of that work stoppage. "We're not going to give the company a chance to use union busters anymore," said Peña. "We're asking workers to take direct action on the plant floor to improve their own conditions." So the union set up a workers' center in nearby Red Springs, holding classes in English and labor rights. Vargas and other fired workers went to work for the UFCW, organizing discontent over high line speed and its human cost in injuries. Workers began to stop production lines to get the company to talk with them about health and safety problems.
In April, 2006, as immigrant protests spread across the country, 300 Smithfield workers stayed out of work and marched through the streets of nearby Wilmington. On May 1 they paraded again, this time by the thousands.
Those heady days, however, were followed by a series of immigration enforcement actions orchestrated between the company and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents. On October 30, 2006, the plant's human resources department sent letters to hundreds of immigrant workers, saying the Social Security numbers they'd provided when they were hired didn't match the government's database. Managers gave them two weeks to come up with new ones.
"On November 13 over 30 were escorted out of the plant," recalled Peña. "Many felt they had nothing to lose." That Thursday over 300 workers walked out. They met at a local hotel, came up with a list of demands, and got church leaders to intercede with the company. Smithfield agreed to a 60-day extension, and to rehire those already terminated. "It's hard to imagine how empowered people felt," Peña recalled.
http://www.politicalaffairs.net/article/articleview/7889/
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