Racism came into play. I was not generally accepted by the workers. The
officers however were with me. We were together during the campaign and I had
their support. There were members who bluntly asked me rudely to step down. The
group that lost the last election was not kind to me either. I knew what
ramification they would bring. However, racial or whatever, I declined to yield
anything.
Management was not happy too. They knew the union's thinking through my
previous writings. They predicted that their relationship with the union
wouldn't be delightful. They were not far from it. We were open during union's
courtesy call. We told them that the union's dealing with management would be
on the basis of confrontation rather than cooperation. We were intending to
lock horns with the company to get what the workers deserved. These indeed were
big words coming from a fractured union.
Timing was not on our side. Management and union are obliged by law to start
negotiation for a new collective agreement in three months. This meant that the
union had to submit a package proposal and followed by official negotiation.
The condition of the union was not in good position to negotiate about anything
with the company, let alone a new collective agreement. We needed an acceptable
degree of solidarity as a weapon to back our demand.
While we were working on the proposal, massive unity campaign was also
launched. The main thrust was to bring the union to the workers. Union
give-away as jackets, hats, T-shirts, sweatshirts and items workers used at
work like lunch boxes, pens, pencils were purchased and handed to members. On
the other hand, brochures, pamphlets and leaflets were distributed by officers
at the gate. Our union hall was open to members daily with social events every
Friday evening. It was a turn-around from past administrations. Newsletters
were published weekly. My editorial was focused on unity. This was where we
asked members to give the new leadership a chance to prove its mandate. Members
listened and in three months time, support was at hand.
Our proposal was bold and daring. It was never attempted by any manufacturing
union in the country. It was exclusively a close-shop union operation with full
control of hiring and firing of employees and on all benefits including
retirement pension. Only some militant unions in the states had this kind of
collective agreement. There was none that we knew of in the manufacturing
sector in Canada. This was the reason why big unions were interested. It was
intended as a spearhead negotiation pattern in the labor movement.
The big day came and the union panel was excited. But before we brought out our
package proposal, the company made a jaw-dropping announcement that the entire
plant in three months time would completely shut down and permanently ceased
operation. What we had to do was to negotiate a severance pay package for
workers and to help the company in re-employing to other industries all six
hundred union members, plus one hundred fifty none union front office
personnel.
The ship was about to sink and the rats jumped overboard with all it could
carry. Our treasurer went missing with the union money. It was chaotic with
blames flying from mouth to mouth. Our meeting at the union hall was just a
little short of being a mob. It was confrontational and hostile. And there I
was, a barrio immigrant taking charge of the whole thing. I wished I was back
in Cabcabon.
The news of the plant closure was a big shock to the city. The province was at
the peak of an over heated economic boom and the sudden shutdown of a major
plant was deemed that the bubble burst. It was predicted as a signal to
economic downturn towards recession and hindsight later proved it correct. The
shutdown issue was brought to the provincial legislature and into the House of
Commons. News media had a picnic with sensational coverage on every twist and
turn.
There was movement from organized labor to buy the plant and to operate it as a
worker's enterprise. Top union people in the province were working on it. News
media was supportive to the idea. It was tempting but I was hesitant to abide.
I knew and believed the role of labor unions to equalize power between
management and workers. But there was a limit to my left-center wing thinking
for unions jumping into management to run a profit oriented business. I was
thinking of possible conflict between disciplines to jointly run a mega buck
enterprise. Its apple and oranges trying to mix water with oil. It simply would
not work. Besides, I also had in mind our union treasurer running away with our
money. I therefore blocked that idea as impractical, which bitterly caused
disappointment and ire from union leaders. I was also bombarded by the media.
The closing day came and the plant that occupied a whole city industrial block
was devoid of human existence. There were just two of us around the eerie place
who agreed to meet for old time sake. The plant manager, who also felt badly
about the shutdown, took me driving a golf cart reserved previously for
visitors touring the plant. Not only was I nostalgic but down my spine I also
felt an awkward feeling. Did we rock the boat too hard that it finally sank?
I walked out the building with a vow not to get involved with labor union
again. I had more than enough with my first one. But I was not able to keep
that promised. I was being dragged into it time and time again. I ran three
local unions as president in different times and in different industries after.
It seemed that when a need came around in the workplace, I was suckered into
being a union leader.
I finally excluded myself from union involvement after fifteen years. I
accepted a company position. I climbed up to higher management, but I was not
comfortable. I was just working for a living. It reminded me of my talks with
the president of the labor federation then about me quitting the union and
going management. He said that I won't make good as a company man because I
already knew too much of what isn't right. He was right. I decided to be self
employed.
I never was a laborer in the home country nor had bestowed sympathy towards the
plight of the working people in factories. On the contrary, my work at times
obliged me to disrupt with might workers at picket lines expressing free will.
I refused to understand them. It took an ocean in a different environment to
realize that it was wrong. I absorbed fully the meaning of it when I walked a
mile on their shoes. Yes, I became a proud factory worker and to people out
there...
Let live your union!
