United for Respect
United for Respect leaders protest outside Walmart's home office.
In 2014, Bene’t Holmes had a miscarriage in the back bathroom of the Chicago-area Walmart where she worked. She had been instructed to lift heavy boxes and stock shelves as part of her work duties. Later that year, Holmes and a coalition of Walmart workers attended the company’s annual meeting in Bentonville, Arkansas, which featured music from Pharrell Williams and Robin Thicke.
Confronting Walmart’s newly installed CEO Doug McMillon, Holmes explained how her store managers gave her a formal reprimand for not coming into work for 18 days after the miscarriage, as she recovered physically and emotionally. “That’s tragic,” McMillon told her, as aides took down her information. McMillon promised that his people would follow up with Holmes. They never did.
Holmes’ story is one of many that appear in a new documentary, Dear Walmart, which chronicles years in the life of a movement of Walmart workers, as they fought for dignity and fair treatment on the job. That movement, originally called OUR Walmart, has broadened over the past couple years to encompass the entire retail industry, taking the name United for Respect.
The concept of respect has been lacking of late in a retail industry that still employs nearly 16 million Americans. Pressure from e-commerce, and more important, profit extraction from private equity vultures, has led to what many have termed the “retail apocalypse.” United for Respect estimated in July that private equity’s incursions in the retail sector have led to the loss of 1.3 million direct and indirect jobs. Recent layoffs at Toys “R” Us, Sears, Payless, and other chains have decimated the industry and often left workers adrift, without severance to help them through the hard times. Meanwhile, retail workers continue to face low pay, haphazard schedules, and workplace intimidation.
United for Respect formed to fight these conditions, one member at a time, in 2012. It has provided a model for worker organizing outside the traditional collective bargaining context. Though the United Food and Commercial Workers supplied early funding, at this point United for Respect does not seek to unionize the retail sector; rather, it falls into the category of “alt-labor,” providing a community space for retail workers and a collective voice to improve conditions. Members get the word out about Dear Walmart by hosting screenings in their homes. They’re building a coalition, but also building a family.
They’ve also built power. Earlier this month, a United for Respect member who worked at Toys “R” Us testified before the House Financial Services Committee about private equity’s damaging role in retail. Members stood behind Senator Elizabeth Warren (D-MA) when she introduced a wide-ranging bill, the Stop Wall Street Looting Act, to tame private equity. Members have fought for and won severance for laid-off workers, higher pay, fair scheduling, and improved family leave and pregnancy policies in stores throughout the country. They have brought retail work out of the political shadows and into the conversation.
“It is the leaders working in retail, it’s their experiences, their voices that are leading the movement,” says Terrysa Guerra, United for Respect’s political director (and herself a former retail worker at a sporting goods store in San Antonio, Texas).
This Black Friday, as the nation focuses on holiday shopping, United for Respect will call attention to a case in Emeryville, California. Nick Gallant, a United for Respect member and employee at the fast-fashion chain H&M, was fired in August, which he claims stemmed from his role in getting a fair scheduling initiative passed in his city and educating co-workers about their new rights. Workers plan to hold dozens of demonstrations at H&M stores nationwide, calling for H&M’s immediate reinstatement of Gallant and highlighting the need to treat retail workers equitably.
“We’re trying to send a message,” says Angela Lopez, an organizer with United for Respect and one of the stars of Dear Walmart. “When you came after Nick, you came after all of us. And we’re coming back.”
Photo by Yichuan Cao/Sipa USA via AP Images
A Walmart store in Mountain View, California
THE DOCUMENTARY TRACES the beginnings of the retail worker movement to Pico Rivera, California, and a strike at a local Walmart, the first such walkout of its kind. It attracted only a handful of workers and didn’t shut down the store, a testament to the nature of retail work and how it frustrates organizing. Erratic schedules prevented colleagues from getting to know one another on the job, and the low pay and often part-time hours afforded little opportunity for spare time. In the film, Anthony Goytia, a Walmart worker from Los Angeles, talks about signing up for clinical trials and donating blood and plasma to make extra money to survive.
Despite these barriers, OUR Walmart grew, as more workers understood the need to raise their collective voice. Angela Lopez was making $9.45 an hour at a Walmart in Florida when she was fired after speaking out about overtime policies at the store. She became an organizer. “What they did to me was a personal thing,” she says. “When they terminated me, I had to leave back to Texas with my family, and my daughter stayed with her dad in Florida. There wasn’t a choice. I was going to do whatever I had to do to make sure this didn’t happen to anyone else.”
While not a union drive, OUR Walmaert’s organizing model mirrored it in some respects. Workers like Goytia became “unofficial shop stewards,” hearing grievances from colleagues and taking them to management. The organization learned from those on the ground and it motivated their work. “At the end of the day, no one knows what it’s like inside those stores unless they’re actually in there,” says Lopez. “Back then, Walmart would say, these aren’t real Walmart associates, these are paid union organizers. And we would put one of our leaders out there and debunk it completely.”
Walmart did more than just reject OUR Walmart’s work. They fired the Pico Rivera organizers and eventually shut down the entire store, giving employees five hours notice. The company claimed at the time the store was closed due to “plumbing problems.” Evelin Cruz, an OUR Walmart organizer at the Pico Rivera store, talks poignantly in one of the film’s finest moments, about how other workers blamed her for Walmart’s actions. “It’s your fault they closed it,” co-workers would say to her. The episode proved a powerful reminder of how dominant economic forces pit workers against one another, removing employer agency and greed from the equation and making a fetish out of not causing trouble.
Despite encountering these tactics, OUR Walmart did post results. In 2015, the company raised its minimum wage for half a million workers, setting a standard within the industry. More increases came later, to $11 an hour, as Walmart was forced to keep up with competitors. Walmart also improved its practices for pregnant workers and instituted paid family leave for employees.
“It takes a long time to win,” says Guerra, United for Respect’s political director. “But when people who work in retail tell their stories, there are victories down the line.” Guerra says watching Dear Walmart energized her. “It confirmed that we are on the right path. People are ready to take leadership, ready to build a big movement for change.”
UPDATE: In a statement, Walmart spokesperson Michelle Malashock called the film "a rehash of inaccurate claims made as part of an organized campaign against Walmart." She also stated that "As part of our investing $4 billion in our associates in the last few years, we’ve increased our starting wages by more than 50 percent and currently have an average hourly total compensation of more than $17.50 an hour. We’ve also added benefits like paid time off, advanced job training, paid family leave and debt-free college for $1 a day." Of course, this is completely consistent with United for Respect's narrative of Walmart making changes after pressure from their worker-led campaigns.
The movement, reflecting the retail workforce, is multi-cultural and multi-racial, and more often than not led by women, who hold about half of all retail jobs (and over three-quarters of retail jobs in clothing stores). And in 2017, as the landscape for retail changed, the movement decided to expand, both by taking on members at other retail chains and by moving the organization into the political realm. “People see it as a powerful and growing voter bloc,” says Guerra. “We are more engaged with elected officials than ever before.”
Earlier this year, United for Respect got Senator Bernie Sanders to deliver a shareholder resolution at Walmart’s annual meeting in Bentonville, for a $15 an hour minimum wage and worker representation on the board of directors. Walmart worker and shareholder Cat Davis wrote the resolution and gave Sanders her proxy to speak at the event. Giovanna de la Rosa, a 20-year employee at Toys “R” Us from Chula Vista, California, testified before Congress about being left with nothing after the company’s bankruptcy. United for Respect’s significant protests and political work led two Toys “R” Us private equity owners to establish a $20 million severance fund for employees.
United For Respect believes it’s critical to tell these stories and remember this history, building power for larger fights ahead. They decided to put together house parties for the Dear Walmart release, using it as a tool to engage other retail workers. “I’m a college student myself, and a lot of the students may not know about the organization,” says Melissa Love, a Walmart worker in Long Beach, California, who will host a house party for the film next week. “If they’re struggling, they’ll be able to see that there are other people out there to help them. They’ll feel like a closeness, a family-type thing. Even doing actions, you’re supporting each other.”
UNITED FOR RESPECT’S latest fight may not grab the same headlines as minimum wage increases. But fair scheduling is critical to workers’ well-being on the job. Most employers schedule retail workers erratically from week to week, making it impossible for workers to plan their lives. “You have to be at their beck and call,” says Angela Lopez. “If you’re not, you risk retaliation or being fired. When you think about having to make a choice, am I going to take care of my sick child today or go to work. And if I call out, I will lose my job.”
Inconsistent schedules make it difficult for workers to plan childcare or other responsibilities. Melissa Love, the Walmart worker from Long Beach, juggles college with working. “I want enough hours to be at 40 hours, but you need to have availability, and I can’t do that,” she says. “I’m trying to go to school to better myself with an education. They don’t understand, they think you’re supposed to work 40 hours a week and that’s all there is.”
Not only does shifting hours cause financial stress for retail workers, but the variances of working daytime and nighttime shifts can be destructive. Terrysa Guerra calls it a “clopening,” closing the store one shift and opening the next day. “It impacts their whole family, it impacts their children,” she says. “You read about children who are acting out because all they can say is, ‘Mom, when are you coming home?’”
United for Respect
Nick Gallant, center, protests at an H&M store in Pasadena, California.
United for Respect’s solution is the fair work week initiative. It would ensure predictable schedules two weeks in advance, and pay for cancelled shifts or shifts where a worker is “on-call” and typically only paid when they are called in to work. The initiative also gives workers the right to decline extra shifts added on short notice and to request scheduling changes without fear of termination, a guarantee of estimated weekly hours that allows for stable pay, and a standard of 11 hours between shifts. Part-time employees would also have first crack at new shifts that open up.
New York City, Philadelphia, the state of Oregon, and several other cities have passed fair work week laws. That includes Emeryville, a small city just over the Bay Bridge from San Francisco with a number of big box stores. Nick Gallant, the United for Respect worker from H&M, was instrumental in getting the city to pass its fair scheduling ordinance. His employer responded by firing him. United for Respect also notes that Gallant had stood up to his management previously, speaking out when H&M prevented a pregnant worker from using the bathroom during her shift.
“He was just telling people their rights; to be retaliated against was a shock to him,” Guerra says. United for Respect has been organizing on Gallant’s behalf since October. Gallant has filed charges against H&M for wrongful termination and violations of labor and whistleblower protection laws. H&M has not responded to a request for comment.
UPDATE: In a statement to the Prospect, an H&M spokesperson said: "We cannot discuss personnel decisions with third parties and would never do so out of respect for our employees. H&M respects the rights of groups to engage in policy debate, provided they do so peacefully and do not threaten the safety and wellbeing of H&M employees and customers."
The near-term goal in United for Respect’s day of protest on Black Friday, featuring H&M, Walmart, Sears, and Amazon workers, is to get Gallant reinstated. The larger goal is to show the nation the real experiences of the millions working in retail. “People are using the most important day in retail to talk about how their schedules are unpredictable and unstable,” Guerra says. “People who can’t make rent, can’t plan a budget, can’t plan childcare because of up and down schedules.”
This has been United for Respect’s strategy from its beginning: to use the stories of workers to fuel its activism, and escalate fights with an employer class that too often has turned retail workplaces into sites for exploitation. The fact that everyone associated with the movement comes out of retail lends an authenticity to the organizing, and a kinship among members. And inch by inch, fight by fight, it might just give millions of workers something too often missing in our economy: a sense of their true value.
