Striking a Pose for the Labor Movement!

I'm inspired by Brandon and Bryan's interpretation of Labor Day, so inspired that I dusted off this 'ole post. It's not nearly as entertaining as A Beer for the Shower's, but I'm rushed by a surge of pro-labor adrenaline. Enjoy!~~~~

That’s me on the left of each photo. I was a hell-raiser back in 1998...and once since then. Wink. I helped organize this strike, was a union steward, published a chapter newsletter, and participated in contract negotiations. During one shining moment of said negotiations, the CEO interrupted me, and I abruptly asserted, "I don't appreciate being interrupted." She shut-up.

We were flying high, until we caved two days later. All was not lost. I wrote the warmhearted song to follow. To appreciate this diddy, you should know that: (1) the CEO had an unusual frame, involving big hips and a tiny waist, and (2) she was impeached by her own peers a few years later.

Before the song, a shout-out to laborers everywhere. I remain grateful to workers who gave their lives for the cause of an 8 hour day and 40 hour week.

We Will Survive
aka Ode to a Big-Hipped WomanSung to the Tune of Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive

When first we saw her hips, we were mystified.
Kept wonderin,’ “How could anyone with legs so small have hips so wide?”
We spent oh so many months just as polite as we could be.

Now we’re venting our frustrations for all the world to see
That her ego, we’ll stand no more! She’s power tripping, and her tactics we abhor!
-CEO's name- is the one who deceives us with her lies.
Does she think we’re stupid? Does she think we’ll give up all our rights?

VERSION 1, BEFORE FINAL VOTE
No, no, we won’t! We’ve too much pride.
Oh, as long as we put up a fight, we’ve justice on our side.
We’ll show that big-hipped woman that we’re not afraid to strike, and we will fight
Until she does us right.
We’re unified. We are 535! Hey, Hey!

VERSION 2, AFTER FINAL VOTE:
Look what we did; we changed our minds.
We voted for the money and set principles aside.
We showed that big-hipped woman that she can buy us out.
And so we pout, ‘cuz we ain’t got no clout.
We broke our stride, and we got fried
By someone who’s really wide. Hey, Hey!

Happy Labor Day, to those who get the day off. A good new week, to you all! xo

Striking a Pose for Laborers!

That’s me on the left of each photo. Yep, I was a hell raiser back in 1998 [and on a few occasions since. Okay, before then, as well. Alright, alright! It’s more than a few occasions pre and post-1998. Quiet down already, and let me continue! Would ya?] As I was saying before all the interruptions, sweet friends, I helped organize a strike against the management of a non-profit social service agency in Oakland, CA. I’d been a union steward, published a chapter newsletter, and was partaking in contract negotiations. Issues at play included the potential loss of our “flex day” (1 day off every 2 weeks), salaries, and lots more.

We had an amazing turnout on the picket lines, with nearly 100% participation. That is, close to 100 of us stopped traffic (or, rather, we got a few honks). Note that when a group of strikers is comprised of 90% women, including some rather attractive ladies in tank tops, spirited truckers will support the cause –whatever said cause may be.

This soiree occurred during the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal. I was quite proud of one of the strike signs that I created: “Keep Clinton! Impeach [Insert Name of Evil Director here]!” I figured I’d try to take some heat off of the poor guy, who had experienced plenty of – well, uh – heat. Anyway, we danced and sang along the picket lines. We also took delight in mocking the supervisors, who took delight in mocking us from their office windows. Clinton fared none the worse for our efforts. In fact, he was not impeached.

We were flying high, until the chapter abruptly sold out following 2 days of picketing. All was not lost, as it was truly a unifying, empowering experience. Plus, I wrote the warmhearted song to follow. It almost made the top 10 list (in my home), but lost the competition to a silly version of Row, Row, Row Your Boat. But that’s not important right now. We didn’t sing my song on the picket lines (I was too shy to distribute it then), though one of my colleagues anonymously emailed it to the Director. I’m guessing the boss didn’t appreciate it, but I could be wrong. To fully enjoy it yourself, you must know that (1) the evil Director had an unusual frame, involving big hips and a tiny waist, and (2) she was impeached by her own peers a year or so later. I’d already moved onto another job, exhausted by the entire experience.

Before I skip to this infamous song, though, I want to give a shout out to my (former) brothers and sisters of Local 535 and to laborers everywhere. Though I am now on the dark side (management), I remain committed to workers’ rights. Thus, managers who don’t have a high regard for ethical practices, and it’s shocking how many there are in social services, don’t like me much. I’m proud of this. I remain grateful to the laborers of the past who gave their lives for the cause of an 8 hour day and 40 hour week. Whenever I drive past folks on strike, they get my honking support.

We Will Survive
aka Ode to a Big-Hipped Woman
Sung to the Tune of Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive

When first we saw her hips, we were mystified.
Kept wonderin,’ “How could anyone with legs so small have hips so wide?”
We spent oh so many months just as polite as we could be.

Now we’re venting our frustrations for all the world to see
That her ego, we’ll stand no more! She’s power tripping, and her tactics we abhor!

XXXX is the one who deceives us with her lies.
Does she think we’re stupid? Does she think we’ll give up all our rights?

VERSION 1, BEFORE FINAL VOTE
No, no, we won’t! We’ve too much pride.
Oh, as long as we put up a fight, we’ve justice on our side.
We’ll show that big-hipped woman that we’re not afraid to strike, and we will fight
Until she does us right.

We’re unified. We are 535! Hey, Hey!

VERSION 2, AFTER FINAL VOTE:
Look what we did; we changed our minds.
We voted for the money and set principles aside.
We showed that big-hipped woman that she can buy us out.

And so we pout, ‘cuz we ain’t got no clout.
We broke our stride, and we got fried
By someone who’s really wide. Hey, Hey!

Happy Labor Day, to those who get the day off. Happy Monday, to you all! xo