Red Cedar
More apocalypse, less angst
Arise!
Happy May Day to all 🙂
Rather than go to work, I’ve got an all-day union meeting and then I’m speaking at the Commercial Drive May Day festivities this evening. Which is about as close as we ever get to celebrating International Workers’ Day in North America – Canada and the US being two of the only countries in the world that don’t recognize May 1st for what everyone else does. Funny too, for the origins of May 1st come out of the US labour struggle of the late 19th century and the state-sponsored murders of anarchist labour organizers arrested during the Haymarket affair. Then again, if you were the US government, maybe you would want to forget that history too.
Not only did the US refuse to make it a national holiday back when the labour movement demanded it, but in 1959 May 1st was designated “Loyalty Day” which was intended as a celebration of patriotism for the country. I’m not sure how much Loyalty Day ever caught on – but clearly the message was – labour struggle is unpatriotic! “International” solidarity is for wusses who don’t care about their *own* countries! Bolsheviks! Traitors!
Oh. If only the North American labour movement hadn’t internalized that message exactly so.
Here in Vancouver the “labour community” has pretty much abandoned MayDay after years of organizing some pretty weak marches. (An exception to this was during the HEU strike five years ago when May 1st fell on a Saturday and BC was edging towards a general strike. That was probably the best workers’ MayDay I’ve celebrated). Of course the international workers’ community here hasn’t let the tradition go and for the last couple of years have taken on the mantle of organizing a community march and speakers in my neighbourhood with a specific focus on workers in other countries, the rights of migrants, and the injustice of a Canada that use the labour of “foreign workers” without giving them basic rights.
All good stuff – and given the global character of the migrant working classes – the focus is increasingly important. And you would think that even though the official labour organizations aren’t a part of putting it together – they might still endorse such a rally or encourage attendance at it. After all – the struggle of one is the struggle of all. Etc. Etc.
But it probably is no surprise to anyone who knows anything about the internal politics of labour that the Vancouver District Labour Council (as one example) wouldn’t even put the march on their circulated calendar of labour events. They won’t have a speaker there. And I’m pretty sure that means they haven’t donated a dime to helping some of the most marginalized groups of workers in Vancouver organize this whole event. And why is that? I would guess it’s because they can’t control the radicalism that emerges from communities of the oppressed. I’ve seen this conflict continually within the labour/radical movements here in BC and elsewhere – if capital-L Labour doesn’t get to call the shots when it comes to organizing pretty much anything, it packs up its toys and goes home.
Because you see, when most of labour bureaucrats talk about “supporting international solidarity” they mean taking a holiday in Cuba. They want international speakers at their conventions – only “as long as they speak English”. And the minute you even nod support towards an armed struggle past or present, you get a lecture on what happened in Nicaragua and that apparently settles that! It’s solidarity on our terms or no terms. Which sounds a little bit too much like the way our political “leaders” approach the rest of the world – our way or the highway!
*Ahem* But I’m getting a bit ranty here. I suppose it’s because I’m on my way to a meeting of federated labour which I know will be comprised of 99% white folks who pay lip service to international struggle while eschewing the local implications of it. While I applaud the money that some unions put towards human rights and labour training in other countries, the abstentionist position towards politics in those places means that the root crises will never be resolved. And instead of going to Colombia to celebrate the toppling of a dictator, we will be forever fielding the refugee claims of Colombian labour activists here. How can we ever win until we see that the struggle of one really is the struggle of all?
I suppose, as always, that the people must lead – those who support international struggle and the rights of all workers need to push for and attend those events that don’t fall inside the traditional labour monopoly. It’s such a small thing – to march in a contingent of radical workers from my union at today’s event – but the fact is, we exist out here. Those of us who know we can only build a better world if we do it together. Not at the expense of the children, the trees, our water sources, or our souls. Together and with the health of the planet and all her creatures considered.
At labour events I am always hearing about the need to renew the labour movement, bring in more diversity and more young. It’s a hollow conversation, because I rarely see the will there to direct operations towards more inclusivity – and this MayDay standoffishness is just one symptom of the same problem. Perhaps Canadian Labour could take the next few May 1sts as a day for reconsideration and renewal. Want to be more relevant? Than how about coming together with the rest of us?
In the meantime, I’m marching with workers from all communities. See you this afternoon!
An audience of one.
I always have trouble returning to a regular blog practice when I get back in town. How ever did I do this before? What do I feel like writing about? What do people feel like reading about? It’s just a puzzle all over again no matter how long I’ve been doing this.
Awhile ago I read John Irving’s Until I Find You – which I greatly enjoyed at over 800 pages of reading goodness. It is the tale of Jack Burns, a boy who grows up in the shadow of a father who he has never met, and with a mother who spins certain fables about her search for her ex-lover. The story you think you are reading (and Burns thinks he is living) is not what it seems. And so Irving works his magic with wonderful characters, details and strange naughty escapades.
At one point in the novel, Jack Burns is told by his acting teacher that when performing on stage, he should only focus on his “audience of one” – an individual (present or not) for whom he would always deliver your most stunning performance. Never mind everyone else, the restless, the coughing, the tittering masses – there is only a single individual who counts when directing your energy. Of course Jack Burns’ audience of one is his missing father – and constantly so throughout the book. That father, he imagines, watches him everywhere – on stage, in life, no matter where he goes.
And I get that. In fact, it is frequently how I blog – to an audience of one – though the individual changes for me on a fairly regular basis. So often when I write here I am responding to someone in my head, or trying to live up to an image I have projected, or delivering a message to someone about their importance in my life. While some posts are the generic “to all” updates, many of them over the years have been attached to particular individuals. There because I want someone to hear or see a part of me that I might otherwise be afraid to express.
Lately my audience of one has been a bit more fixed. I feel bad if I don’t post, because I know that person reads here to find out how I am during the day. I feel proud when I post something really good that I know he will enjoy. I feel strange when I post about him because I feel like I’m talking to him and about him at the same time.
I wonder if other people have this experience – writing? acting? dancing? Or is your audience the literal in front of you? I’m just curious about how much we perform for those we imagine rather than those who are there.
Landing. Again.
Well. I am back home after ten days of not being. And I wish I had something profound to share with you – but really, I am just re-orienting myself. There is something about Ottawa that drives the writer right out of me. Perhaps it’s just that I find it difficult to write in hotel rooms, or that I am otherwise mentally occupied when there – but my output goes way down the minute I arrive.
Towards the end of my time in Ottawa I found myself getting a little bit angsty and discouraged about things in general. I am definitely feeling the unkind words of others more than normal – all of which bubbled to the surface during and shortly after the convention/election of last weekend. Really I just need to go back to my “real job” for a couple of weeks which is oh so much easier on my psyche.
But really, I am happy to be home, awaiting Brian’s visit this afternoon – a cozy and secure corner of the world.
More shortly, I’ve got stuff to say as soon as I take care of some things..
Ottawa Storm
Thunderstorm last night in Ottawa. Got a few photos from the 28th floor of my hotel – through the tempered glass which gave them a strange tint – but I like the effect.
The election story.
Last weekend’s union convention is a bit hazy in my mind at the moment, having finished up with four days of politicking with a late-night flight to Ottawa for bargaining. And have I mentioned that I barely ate or slept until a full day after my election? That doesn’t make for the best powers of recollection either. But still, I do remember winning – and in that I’m not delusional.
A newer delegate at the convention who is very involved in the NDP mentioned to me that he found union politics strange because elections aren’t so much fought over one issue or another. A lot of what we do is pretty motherhood stuff and it’s hard not to be *for* better representation of members, for example. His observation was that our elections were more about networks and rapport with people – which is true – and I think stems from the fact that so much of our member representation work is about those things. You really do want to elect someone who gets along with others, who can talk to members in way that is convincing, and who can rouse other people to take action. And I suppose too, that once you are in a union leadership position, your political platform is already decided for you – by convention floor.
All that to say that depending on how someone runs their campaign it can seem a little more or a little less like a popularity contest. Which is pretty much how my opponent ran hers, and not at all how I ran mine.
(I should note here, that the incumbent in the position dropped out two weeks before and threw her support behind me).
My campaign was a straight-forward introduction letter sent by mail two weeks before convention, and then a lot of handshaking and discussion making during the convention itself. I campaigned on the involvement of younger members, better communication in the region, and broadening our community networks – again, it’s motherhood stuff for our union, and it’s what people are asking for. I worked hard at our hospitality event the night before election and met as many new and young delegates as possible over a two day period, I answered questions from dozens of people on all sorts of things, and I heard a lot of complaints about bargaining, our union, and so forth.
On the other side, my opponent handed out no paper at all, didn’t put herself forward to meet new delegates (at least that’s what they told me), and had a campaign strategy that relied on glittery ribbons and the networking abilities of her friends. And no, I am not kidding.
I suppose she figured that the politics would come out at the all-candidates meeting. Or that she was well known enough that people would recognize her contributions over the years (she is indeed a hard-worker which is why I am surprised she handed out no letter of her accomplishments). Or perhaps that I was such an unworthy opponent that no one would vote for me. I’m not sure really.
Up until the all candidates meeting I wasn’t really nervous. I had been stressed in the week leading up to convention, but it wasn’t until about 15 minutes before the meeting that I got an actual case of nerves. Realize that I did not eat almost anything Friday and had not eaten anything Saturday morning either – and I almost never go off food! But I did well there, both in my intro and my answers to questions. I answered “off the script” a lot which I think helped because I drew on examples and things that had happened for me in the union rather than the formula answers that people often give in these situations. Right in the middle of the meeting I looked down at our National Vice-President and got such an intense deja vu that I almost forgot where I was. It was weird.
Then the election. At the last minute a third person entered the race (he had lost the position above it and decided to run down) and so the first vote was 61 in my favour, 40 to my first opponent, and 37 to my last-minute opponent. We needed 70 to take a clear majority and so the last-minute guy was dropped from the ballot and I ended up winning with 85 votes or so at the end. Not a resounding victory, but certainly a clear one that I can be reasonably proud of.
And goddamn – at that point I was just glad it was over. I didn’t feel particularly victorious, but I did feel a tremendous relief.
More elections followed that day and at some point Brian showed up for the international solidarity function that I was responsible for hosting. Quite honestly, the sweetest moment of the whole day was when my guy walked in where I was setting up for the function and congratulated me in person. I am glad he wasn’t there in the run up to the election, but I wanted him there as soon as I had won…. And I can honestly say it was one of the best hello kisses of my life 🙂
I have to go back to my meetings soon, but I’d like to get this posted even though it’s somewhat incomplete. A little slice of convention I guess. And like I said, I’m just glad that it’s over!
(Oh – and for those of you asking about my title? Don’t worry about that, it wouldn’t mean anything to you anyway. What I will say is that it is the #2 spot in my union for BC. Which is a big deal only to people inside my union.)
Red Cedar 