Storm Clouds Over Southern Labor

Sanitation Workers strike in Memphis in 1968

Atlanta   After the a two-ringed circus in Atlanta where I met with our the four graduate social work school interns who are working with the ACORN Home Savers Campaign for the next semester and the screening of The Organizer at the Andrew Young Center on campus, I got to visit with several veteran union organizers for a bit. It was cold, windy, and rainy outside, and that pretty much characterized the reports I was getting of the current labor organizing progress in the field. It was all uphill and in the teeth of the wind, both from outside forces and increasingly internal inertia.

One film watcher was an old veteran of the textile wars as an organizer for the legendary ILGWU, the International Ladies Garment Workers Union. I asked him when he had worked them and when he said the late 1970s and early 1980s, I couldn’t resist mentioning Art Martin who had run a local in Arkansas earlier in the 70s and then later in the Carolinas. Sure enough, he had worked for Art in Charlotte, and was shocked to hear of his passing some years ago. I asked if he had noticed Art in several frames of the movie, and he laughed, saying he thought someone looked familiar, but didn’t place the context since the picture was of Art during the Quorum Court effort in Pulaski County 45 years ago. As for any talk about organizing in what’s left of the textile industry in the South? Not much to say there.

Ben Speight, who many claim is the best labor organizer in the Atlanta area and a former ACORN organizer as well, told the story of his efforts to organize 500 sanitation workers in a neighboring county with the Teamsters. Their effort over several years had won a couple of raises of the workers and a number of other improvements, but despite repeated efforts organizationally and politically, had failed to win either dues deduction or recognition for the union, so the effort was waning. He had been at a Martin Luther King breakfast before coming to the screening. He was surprised among all of the political speakers at the event that there had not been one speaker from the labor movement or any union, despite this being the 50th anniversary of King’s assassination while in Memphis supporting the strike of the garbage workers in that city.

Visiting with my old friend and comrade, Ken Johnson, who not so long ago retired as regional director of the AFL-CIO in the South, there wasn’t much good news from that quarter either. We spent time talking about the Southern Regional Council where he had worked before the AFL-CIO, because we couldn’t find much to say about big, new organizing either one of us was hearing about in the south. Going through the list of names we had in common, many of them had moved far afield to even find organizing or union work. Any discussion of developments at the NLRB or the Department of Labor was short shrift. No good news there.

One question that had come up after the screening asked about how social media was changing the organizing. The brother said he had observed people were more than willing to “post” something, but seemed to have no interest in hitting the streets or shops. The work and workers are here, but the connections aren’t coming together.

People still like to talk about organizing in the south, but not too many unions are doing any of it.

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Draft Resisters as the Anti-War Freedom Riders

March on the Pentagon 1967

New Orleans   I was surprised recently when I saw a note mentioning the 50th anniversary of the March on the Pentagon on October 21, 1967 in Washington, D.C., one of the seminal events of the anti-war protests against the Vietnam War. We’re seeing a lot of these golden jubilee events these days. It was only a couple of years ago we were commemorating critical events in the civil rights movement, and now the clock has advanced from there to the Vietnam War, short by the clock of modern wars like our longstanding, never ending engagements in Afghanistan and to some degree, Iraq, but still as bloody as many, body to body.

I finished reading a book recently that I had missed somehow when it was published in 2003, by historian Michael Foley called Confronting the War Machine: Draft Resistance During the Vietnam War. I had discovered when some quote popped up as people relived those hard old days, where he either said or was quoting someone else saying that there was an argument that “draft resisters were the freedom riders of the anti-war movement.” That notion grabbed my attention and found me scurrying to read the book.

Interestingly, Foley concentrated on the anti-war activities around Boston during those days, especially between 1967-1969 or so, and even more determinedly focused on two groups that defined the efforts there during those days, the Boston Draft Resistance Group and the New England Resistance. As it happens, I living in Massachusetts in college at the time and was a foot soldier at both the Spring Mobilization in March 1967 in New York City and in the March on the Pentagon in 1967 and either later that fall or early in 1968, it’s impossible to remember now, went to Boston one weekend to be trained as a draft counselor by the BDRG. Not long afterwards I dropped out of college and headed to New Orleans to try to organize draft counseling there in March 1968.

The book brings back memories of a generation, particularly young men, at a crossroads, not common today, but because of the mandatory draft administered by the Selective Service system, everyone of us was forced to make life-and-death decisions about our futures in the face of the war. Foley’s book is excellent on the inequities of the draft as well as the pressure that both anti-war activities and the more limited resistance put on the White House to end the war.

His position in the book on the earlier question of individual and collective action is more nuanced. He poses the proposition as a paradox and a continuing head scratcher, saying that some,

argue that draft resisters were the antiwar movement’s equivalent to the civil rights movement’s Freedom Riders and lunch-counter sit-in participants; today, Americans regard those dissenters as heroes while they view draft resisters as selfish, cowardly, and traitorous.”

Perhaps, but it is easy to understand the contradiction, and, like so many things in American public life, it is firmly rooted in differences in race and class. Going through several draft physicals while I was was classified as 1-A from 19 to 26 years old in the period before there was a lottery, the draft physical lineup was strikingly lower income and working class, black in New Orleans and black and brown in Springfield, Massachusetts.

Part of what attracted me to the BDRG was not just the skills they offered in understanding the draft system and its byzantine practice in order to competently advise people facing these life choices adequately, but what Foley cites as its philosophical “adherence to community organizing.” It’s also why I have often described my time in New Orleans during 1968 trying to organize something like a draft counseling operation in the communities as my wake-up call to the difficulties of organizing and the weight of constant and powerful failure that hovers over such valiant work. Where I wanted to work in communities didn’t work out well at a time the South was still overwhelmingly supportive of the Vietnam War, yet I was inundated by requests from white college kids trying to figure out a good way out of the draft, more in the manner of an escape hatch than any resistance.

I didn’t give up on organizing, but it was a life lesson that taught me that counseling was in high demand, but alone solved nothing unless integrated in a deeper program of organizing for power.

Nonetheless, it is a small comfort to read that the cumulative work of so many, of which I was a small, small part, had value in stopping the war then, partially because of the horror and power of the draft, compared to now when so many ignore that we are even involved in a war, so far away from their lives and the choices they have to make about how to live them.

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