#harold meyerson
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NLRB rules that any union busting triggers automatic union recognition
Tonight (September 6) at 7pm, I'll be hosting Naomi Klein at the LA Public Library for the launch of Doppelganger.
On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.
American support for unions is at its highest level in generations, from 70% (general population) to 88% (Millenials) – and yet, American unionization rates are pathetic.
That's about to change.
The National Labor Relations Board just handed down a landmark ruling – the Cemex case – that "brought worker rights back from the dead."
https://prospect.org/labor/2023-08-28-bidens-nlrb-brings-workers-rights-back/
At issue in Cemex was what the NLRB should do about employers that violate labor law during union drives. For decades, even the most flagrantly illegal union-busting was met with a wrist-slap. For example, if a boss threatened or fired an employee for participating in a union drive, the NLRB would typically issue a small fine and order the employer to re-hire the worker and provide back-pay.
Everyone knows that "a fine is a price." The NLRB's toothless response to cheating presented an easily solved equation for corrupt, union-hating bosses: if the fine amounts to less than the total, lifetime costs of paying a fair wage and offering fair labor conditions, you should cheat – hell, it's practically a fiduciary duty:
https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1086/468061
Enter the Cemex ruling: once a majority of workers have signed a union card, any Unfair Labor Practice by their employer triggers immediate, automatic recognition of the union. In other words, the NLRB has fitted a tilt sensor in the American labor pinball machine, and if the boss tries to cheat, they automatically lose.
Cemex is a complete 180, a radical transformation of the American labor regulator from a figleaf that legitimized union busting to an actual enforcer, upholding the law that Congress passed, rather than the law that America's oligarchs wish Congress had passed. It represents a turning point in the system of lawless impunity for American plutocracy.
In the words of Frank Wilhoit, it is is a repudiation of the conservative dogma: "There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect":
https://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/21/liberals-against-progressives/#comment-729288
It's also a stunning example of what regulatory competence looks like. The Biden administration is a decidedly mixed bag. On the one hand there are empty suits masquerading as technocrats, champions of the party's centrist wing (slogan: "Everything is fine and change is impossible"):
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge
But the progressive, Sanders/Warren wing of the party installed some fantastically competent, hard-charging, principled fighters, who are chapter-and-verse on their regulatory authority and have the courage to use that authority:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff
They embody the old joke about the photocopier technician who charges "$1 to kick the photocopier and $79 to know where to kick it." The best Biden appointees have their boots firmly laced, and they're kicking that mother:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does
One such expert kicker is NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo. Abruzzo has taken a series of muscular, bold moves to protect American workers, turning the tide in the class war that the 1% has waged on workers since the Reagan administration. For example, Abruzzo is working to turn worker misclassification – the fiction that an employee is a small business contracting with their boss, a staple of the "gig economy" – into an Unfair Labor Practice:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/10/see-you-in-the-funny-papers/bidens-legacy
She's also waging war on robo-scab companies: app-based employment "platforms" like Instawork that are used to recruit workers to cross picket lines, under threat of being blocked from the app and blackballed by hundreds of local employers:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork
With Cemex, Abruzzo is restoring a century-old labor principle that has been gathering dust for generations: the idea that workers have the right to organize workplace gemocracies without fear of retaliation, harassment, or reprisals.
But as Harold Meyerson writes for The American Prospect, the Cemex ruling has its limits. Even if the NLRB forces and employer to recognize a union, they can't force the employer to bargain in good faith for a union contract. The National Labor Relations Act prohibits the Board from imposing a contract.
That's created a loophole that corrupt bosses have driven entire fleets of trucks through. Workers who attain union recognition face years-long struggles to win a contract, as their bosses walk away from negotiations or offer farcical "bargaining positions" in the expectation that they'll be rejected, prolonging the delay.
Democrats have been trying to fix this loophole since the LBJ years, but they've been repeatedly blocked in the senate. But Abruzzo is a consummate photocopier kicker, and she's taking aim. In Thrive Pet Healthcare, Abruzzo has argued that failing to bargain in good faith for a contract is itself an Unfair Labor Practice. That means the NLRB has the authority to act to correct it – they can't order a contract, but they can order the employer to give workers "wages, benefits, hours, and such that are comparable to those provided by comparable unionized companies in their field."
Mitch McConnell is a piece of shit, but he's no slouch at kicking photocopiers himself. For a whole year, McConnell has blocked senate confirmation hearings to fill a vacant seat on the NLRB. In the short term, this meant that the three Dems on the board were able to hand down these bold rulings without worrying about their GOP colleagues.
But McConnell was playing a long game. Board member Gwynne Wilcox's term is about to expire. If her seat remains vacant, the three remaining board members won't be able to form a quorum, and the NLRB won't be able to do anything.
As Meyerson writes, centrist Dems have refused to push McConnell on this, hoping for comity and not wanting to violate decorum. But Chuck Schumer has finally bestirred himself to fight this issue, and Alaska GOP senator Lisa Murkowski has already broken with her party to move Wilcox's confirmation to a floor vote.
The work of enforcers like DoJ Antitrust Division boss Jonathan Kanter, FTC chair Lina Khan, and SEC chair Gary Gensler is at the heart of Bidenomics: the muscular, fearless deployment of existing regulatory authority to make life better for everyday Americans.
But of course, "existing regulatory authority" isn't the last word. The judges filling stolen seats on the illegitimate Supreme Court had invented the "major questions doctrine" and have used it as a club to attack Biden's photocopier-kickers. There's real danger that Cemex – and other key actions – will get fast-tracked to SCOTUS so the dotards in robes can shatter our dreams for a better America.
Meyerson is cautiously optimistic here. At 40% (!), the Court's approval rating is at a low not seen since the New Deal showdowns. The Supremes don't have an army, they don't have cops, they just have legitimacy. If Americans refuse to acknowledge their decisions, all they can do it sit and stew:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/26/mint-the-coin-etc-etc/#blitz-em
The Court knows this. That's why they fume so publicly about attacks on their legitimacy. Without legitimacy, they're nothing. With the Supremes' support at 40% and union support at 70%, any judicial attack on Cemex could trigger term-limits, court-packing, and other doomsday scenarios that will haunt the relatively young judges for decades, as the seats they stole dwindle into irrelevance. Meyerson predicts that this will weigh on them, and may stay their hands.
Meyerson might be wrong, of course. No one ever lost money betting on the self-destructive hubris of Federalist Society judges. But even if he's wrong, his point is important. If the Supremes frustrate the democratic will of the American people, we have to smash the Supremes. Term limits, court-packing, whatever it takes:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/20/judicial-equilibria/#pack-the-court
And the more we talk about this – the more we make this consequence explicit – the more it will weigh on them, and the better the chance that they'll surprise us. That's already happening! The Supremes just crushed the Sackler opioid crime-family's dream of keeping their billions in blood-money:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed
But if it doesn't stop them? If they crush this dream, too? Pack the court. Impose term limits. Make it the issue. Don't apologize, don't shrug it off, don't succumb to learned helplessness. Make it our demand. Make it a litmus test: "If elected, will you vote to pack the court and clear the way for democratic legitimacy?"
Meanwhile, Cemex is already bearing fruit. After an NYC Trader Joe's violated the law to keep Trader Joe's United from organizing a store, the workers there have petitioned to have their union automatically recognized under the Cemex rule:
https://truthout.org/articles/trader-joes-union-files-to-force-company-to-recognize-union-under-new-nlrb-rule/
With the NLRB clearing the regulatory obstacles to union recognition, America's largest unions are awakening from their own long slumbers. For decades, unions have spent a desultory 3% of their budgets on organizing workers into new locals. But a leadership upset in the AFL-CIO has unions ready to catch a wave with the young workers and their 88% approval rating, with a massive planned organizing drive:
https://prospect.org/labor/labors-john-l-lewis-moment/
Meyerson calls on other large unions to follow suit, and the unions seem ready to do so, with new leaders and new militancy at the Teamsters and UAW, and with SEIU members at unionized Starbucks waiting for their first contracts.
Turning union-supporting workers into unionized workers is key to fighting Supreme Court sabotage. Organized labor will give fighters like Abruzzo the political cover she needs to Get Shit Done. A better America is possible. It's within our grasp. Though there is a long way to go, we are winning crucial victories all the time.
The centrist message that everything is fine and change is impossible is designed to demoralize you, to win the fight in your mind so they don't have to win it in the streets and in the jobsite. We don't have to give them that victory. It's ours for the taking.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks
#nlrb#cemex#unions#labor#class war#photocopier kickers#ulp#unfair labor practices#jennifer abruzzo#thrive pet care#national labor review board#scotus#afl-cio#trader joes#harold meyerson#labor day#pluralistic
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« Biden, I thought, actually delivered the most effective speech of his presidency. And viewed through the prism of domestic politics, he needed to deliver an effective speech. This wasn’t old duffer Joe; this was, well, the president, wrapping all his policy proposals in the shiny raiment of traditional American values, most pointedly tolerance for those who differ from us. Biden has frequently lamented the costs that tribalism and racism have inflicted on American life and lives, but never particularly effectively until last night, when it seemed to flow organically from his survey of the world’s tribalism now running amok.
In that sense, it was also his most effective anti-Trump speech, making the contrast between his approach to the presidency and Trump’s tribal rabble-rousing very clear without having to mention or even refer to Trump at all. »
— Harold Meyerson writing at the progressive journal The American Prospect about President Joe Biden's Thursday evening speech from the Oval Office.
Just being presidential is the opposite of Trump. We can't imagine Trump condemning violence and racism.
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Hello! Welcome to Chapter 12. I need to stress once more that this chapter is going to be really hard to read, with many triggering issues. The chapter is only through Cora’s POV as we rescue Junie.
If you have just found this AU, here is the Master List
Thank you always to @lvnterninthenight, @gardensgatedaisy and @whitesuitjake for all of the love and support during the time I was writing this.
This is a work of fiction, and is totally mine. Please do not take it for your own personal use. I’ve put in hours of research, hours upon hours of writing, re-writing, screaming, yelling and vomiting over this epic of a story. But it is mine.
Content warning: Images and insinuation of violence, intentional drugging, neglect and abuse. Please read with caution.
Word count: approx. 4700 words.
Chapter Twelve: Fear, Kidnapping Junebug, Aftermath - Cora POV
Supper was long finished, along with its dishes as Cora stepped off the back stoop. In the rapidly darkening evening, she watched for a moment as her mother took clothes from the line, folding and dropping each garment into a basket. Rosemary had a quietness that Cora envied at times. Her mother, be it through ignorance or wisdom, had always been content in the simple drive of chores to be completed. It was what she excelled at - finishing tasks that many would find nothing but tedium.
“What brings you out here?” she asked as she slowly folded a sheet before she moved down the clothesline.
“May I help?” Cora asked.
Rosemary smiled with a nod. “After, you can tell me what is on that mind of yours.”
Laundry down from the line, Cora carried the basket in. They sat at the table together. She realized that her mother looked upon her differently than she had months before. There was an equality to Rosemary’s gaze that startled her. She felt her words that she needed to speak, struggling over the harshness she had to share. The pain rolled through her belly as she chewed the inside of her cheek.
“It’s Junie, Mama,” she managed.
Rosemary smiled. “You must’ve seen her Sunday. I was not sure since you did not say anything. I hope she is well. Mrs. Meyerson assures me each time I have stopped by how well she has it. Junie is always busy-”
“No, Mama,” Cora fought to keep herself together, to keep her temper in check. A tear escaped, followed by a second. She quickly wiped them away. “Jacob and Joshua got me in the home, but what I found was not Junie being well, or busy.”
Rosemary’s look of skepticism chilled her. “What do you mean, Cora?”
“I found her… There’s no other way to say tortured,” she whispered. “I do not understand what I saw, Mama. Her body is so frail, so thin. She’s got wounds…”
“Perhaps you caught her being punished-”
“No, Mama. She’s full of fear. She is covered in injury. I scarcely recognized her.” Cora reached out, grabbing her mother’s arm as the woman was starting to leave the table. “Mr. Archer has lost three wives. Three. Not just the one like you were led to believe.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Papa never raised a hand to you in anything other than kindness. Harold Archer has only raised his hands in harm to Junie, Mother. He’s killing her.”
“Cora, don’t be dramatic.”
Her heart pulsed like her mother had struck her directly in the chest. Swallowing hard, she set her jaw and moved forward. “Regardless, I’m telling you that things are going to change.”
She carefully relayed what was going to happen through the course of the next day. Her mother sat with her arms across her chest, but at least listening. She begged her mother to not say anything, but to please say good-bye when it was time.
“Perhaps when you see her, you will believe me,” Cora finished.
Rosemary sat back, eyebrows raised, her eyes full of gleam. “It’s not that I do not believe you.”
“Then what? You’re sitting there wanting to just absolutely defend-”
Her mother covered her face as a broken stream of air escaped from her. “Do not think for one moment I do not believe you. This is my baby, my child you are talking about. Do not think that I do not feel in this situation.”
They fell to silence. Cora stared at a knot in the table unsure if what she mistook for disbelief was just a way for her mother to cope. Was it easier to believe the lie that the housekeeper spun than to know and act upon the reality? The notion made her insides hurt. She jumped at the feel of touch on her hand. Looking, she realized that her mother covered her hand with her own. She stared at the touch. It was foreign and warm and soft despite the calluses. She could not remember the last time her mother had touched her. Certainly never in such a fashion that was tender.
“I am sorry, Cora Rosemarie,” her mother whispered. “I have made so many wrong decisions. I’ve hurt this family in so many ways.”
She still was unable to tear her eyes from her mother’s touch. The words filtered through her skin, striking her brain. Her mother was feeling shame. It struck her wrong. It hurt in parts of her mind that she did not realize could hurt.
“Mama,” she breathed. “You have only ever done what you have known. There is no wrong in that.”
“You’re so brave. Much braver than I could ever be,” Rosemary said, tightening her hold on her daughter’s hand. “I commend you for being so like your father in that regard. I suppose that is why I place my trust so deeply in you. I hope you realize that, Cora. You are so like him. Matthew would be so proud of his eldest daughter.”
She watched as her mother stood and moved away, retrieving a glass of water. Cora let go a breath that seared her throat. Praise from her mother was a rarity. She sat in the quiet, allowing the words to infiltrate her mind and heart.
“How long are you going to be gone?”
“About two weeks. Jacob will be looking in every day he can,” she answered quietly. “The moment she is settled, I will return.”
“You could stay with her, Cora. Stay with her and don’t come back.”
Her eyes drifted closed as her heart sloshed painfully around her chest. “I can’t do that, Mama. I can’t leave you all behind.”
“The boys and I would be fine. We’d find our way.”
“It’s not just you and the boys I’m talking about,” Cora sighed.
Rosemary smiled. “You love him?”
A fragile burst of emotion broke free from her and she was quick to wipe at her face. Nodding, she let out a quiet assent. Rosemary covered her hand once more, giving her a squeeze of support. Cora could not shy away from the moment. Her mother accepted the situation as her equal, not as her mother for the first time. It was odd territory. Swallowing hard, she realized that she had been given something she never expected - her mother was becoming an ally and friend, not just a parent. The acceptance in her eyes as Cora nodded was both blessing and failing. Her thoughts drifted back to before Junie was placed into that black space under consent that was masked by obligation to lessen a burden on her family. How she realized that Rosemary was removing any chance for love from her daughters. How she was creating barriers. Meeting her mothers gaze once more, she discovered that was not real. Not really. Mal intent was never there - just the shade of hopelessness that gave itself over to misdirection. Her stomach clenched over what would happen when her mother saw the scarring inflicted by the choices of turning Junie over to that man. She could only hope that there would be healing and forgiveness to be had for the women of her family.
Wednesday had arrived. Cora barely slept and her body was making her pay while her brain rocketed forward to the day’s coming events. Jacob tapped on the door at exactly nine with a determined smile. Hesitantly, she brought out a satchel of her things. Rosemary was already at the laundry, having started her day before the dawn. Matthew, Jon, and Georgie were at the table, watching even though they had studies to do.
“Matthew, take care of them,” Cora said as Georgie popped up from his seat and grabbed her waist.
“I’ll be here for supper tomorrow, Mr. Matthew,” Jacob said. “I’d like to see what Cora has the lot of you studying so diligently.”
The eldest boy nodded. Cora ruffled Georgie’s hair before reaching out to the quietest of the three, Jon. The boy's bright blue eyes always held a mystery that Cora knew to be thought deeper than any boy should have to have. He was careful and observant, weighing each word to see if they would bring harm to any ear before he saw fit to utter them into existence.
“Don’t worry, Sister,” he said, his voice resolved and sound. “We’ll care for Mama. Mr. Jacob’s here, too. I’ll make sure those two stay out of trouble.”
She blew out a breath. “Thank you, Jon. Be good.”
Jacob carried her bag as they left the house. She waved to Georgie before taking his offered hand. Their first stop was the garage. Samuel was working on the Moon as they entered, a cigarette dangling from his lip. He barely looked up from his tinkering and offered not a single word of greeting. She felt the tension in the air and thought best to not speak for fear of igniting something that was better left alone.
“Have you seen Josh?” Jacob asked, as the younger sibling pounded on something inside the engine bay.
“He’s in the office preparing,” Sam answered stiffly.
“Danny in the Tiger?” Jacob continued.
Cora noticed the altered state of the Moon, realizing that much of it was different from the fancy impression she had gotten. Gone were the running boards and the flashy chrome. The rumble seat was nothing but an open hatch that inside were wood planks, creating a void for storage that took up more than half the cab of the vehicle. The lavish seats were gone completely. The front end looked different, but Cora could not quite place what had changed.
“For now,” Sam answered. “Susannah and Molly will be ready at the house.”
The man’s solemness struck her. She had never seen Samuel so subdued. The mood seemed to cement the gravity of the day and not just from the weight of the plight of her sister. Overtaking the bank was going to change their dynamic tremendously. All of that magnitude was landing on Joshua and rippling through the brothers like an earthquake.
“Let’s go for a cup of coffee,” Jacob said, trying to sound calm, but she heard the underlying tension.
He helped her into the Kissel. He seemed to not want to stray far from her side. The diner was quiet and they were able to sit apart from anyone else running late for breakfast. Jacob held her hand the entire time, his fingers brushing across her skin repeatedly. They shared no words. Cora figured he was just as apprehensive for the day ahead. Her eyes locked onto the clock behind the counter. Each minute seemed to take ten times the length to pass. Every sip of coffee seemed more bitter than her last.
At ten after ten, Jacob shifted. His jaw set. He tossed a dollar on the table and stood.
“Ready?” he asked, putting his hat on.
She nodded, and led the way out. Once in the car, he paused before he started the engine. Cora watched as he seemed to collect himself. Before she realized it, they were before the Archer house. Jacob parked so as to have the passenger broadside towards the front door, with both doors wide open. He reached into the back and retrieved a quilt.
“I didn’t want her to get cold,” he said, his voice filled with soft concern.
Making their way through the gate, he neglected to close as well. He moved before her, knocking sharply on the door. Cora’s stomach pinched as she held the quilt tight. She could feel the heat of his anger rolling off of him and wondered if this was true or just for show. Mrs. Meyerson glowered at them when she opened the door.
“Move,” Jacob said, his voice a low, hard growl.
“I most certainly will not,” the housekeeper protested.
Not waiting, but not touching her, he stepped up towards her. The woman grew flustered in her uncertainty. He took the opportunity to head directly to the stairs. Cora ran up behind him.
“Third door on the left,” she called out as they moved together.
Behind her, Mrs. Meyerson was spouting off, but her meaningless threats fell away the moment they pushed into Junie’s room. A curse fell from Jacob’s mouth.
“Junie?” Cora said as loudly, as firmly as she could manage. “Junie, you hear me?”
“Get back from her!” Mrs. Meyerson threatened. “You have no business-”
Jacob, his face dark with rage stepped close to her, blocking the woman’s path. “Leave before you become the first woman I strike.”
Cora leaned in close. Junie could barely move. “Junebug, I’m here, just like I said I would be.”
“Cora?” she whispered.
“Jacob, she’s too weak to stand,” she said in a panic.
Carefully, she pulled Junie up to sitting, wrapping the quilt around her fragile shoulders. Jacob was quick to be beside her.
“Sister?” Junie sighed, trying to hold up her head but failing.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you, but let me get you out of here,” he said against her ear. “Cora, get in front of me.”
She moved ahead quickly, nearly running down the stairs. Out the door, down the walk, and blessedly, no one was around to see what was happening. She could hear Jacob’s labored breathing behind her. Junie could barely hold on to him, her arm flapping around wildly. Cora slid into the backseat, holding her arms out to catch June as Jacob got her inside. He slid across the front seat, closing both doors as he moved. They moved down the street quickly. Jacob moved as fast as the Kissel would allow without tipping around the few corners and curves to get to the Kiszka household.
They skittered to a stop. Jacob moved quickly to open the back passenger door and reach in, but stopped, his eyes full of worry.
“She’s so pale,” he whispered, catching Cora’s gaze. “I-”
“We need to get her inside,” she said, sliding both of them forward. “We need the doctor.”
He nodded as he reached once more, securing the pitiful form against him. Cora raced ahead to open the gate and door. Mrs. Woods was near the bottom of the stairs when Jacob rushed inside, heading right for his room.
“Mr. Jacob?” She called after them.
“Blankets, please, Mrs. Woods,” he said loudly. “Any and all you can find.”
Cora heard Molly curse behind them. She got to Jacob’s door, holding it open for him. She watched as he carefully lay Junie down on the bed.
“I’ll go get Doc,” he said grimly.
Molly stood frozen in the doorway. Cora waved at her to get her attention.
“A shallow bath,” Cora said. “Molly, can you run water for a shallow bath? Please?”
In a daze, her friend moved towards the washroom. Cora sat on the edge of the bed. Junie was so still, but there was a breath in her, there was still warmth to the skin of her chest.
“Sister,” she sighed. “Did I do it?”
“Do what, sweetheart?” Cora asked.
“Did I stay strong?” she returned, her words slow and slurred. “Did I count ten days?”
“You did so good, Junie. You did so, so good,” she answered, trying to hide the sorrow that threatened. “You never will go back there. I promise you that.”
Junie struggled to open her eyes. “I’m so tired.”
“I know,” Cora replied, just as the water started in the washroom.
Susannah was walking in behind Mrs. Woods with stacks of blankets. The housekeeper’s kind eyes narrowed taking in the sight. She set the blankets down and held her hands up as she quickly moved towards the bathroom. Cora heard the housekeeper redirecting Molly as cabinets were being snapped open and shut. Susannah drew close, her hand touching Cora’s shoulder in a moment of comfort.
Cora looked into her friend’s face, finding strength and a calmness that settled her. “Will you help me get her up?”
“Tell me where you want me, dolly,” Susannah answered without hesitation.
Together, they were able to lift Junie up and get her to the washroom. Mrs. Woods carefully unfastened the filthy nightdress and pulled it away from where it had adhered to the skin without much pain for Junie. The housekeeper had placed a towel at the bottom of the slick tub to ensure the girl would not slip. It took all three women, but they lowered the sickly thin frame into the water.
“Baby, I’m going to wash your hair,” Susannah said softly as Cora held her shoulders on one side.
“Are you angels?” June asked, her voice childlike.
Cora could not stop the shattered breath that escaped her. Molly’s hands were immediately on her, holding her. She looked back into the woman’s face and was met with deep kindness and understanding. Susannah had already started to slowly dampen down Junie matted hair and work in soap. Mrs. Woods knelt on the other side of the tub, tenderly brushing a sudsy cloth against her arm and leg. Molly pressed a kiss to her forehead and patted her cheek.
“Strong is what she needs, baby girl,” Molly whispered.
“Junie, it’s Cora,” she said, turning back to the tub.
“Sister,” Junie whispered. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, Junebug,” Cora managed, taking a cloth that Mrs. Woods handed her.
She managed not to cry while the cuts and wounds reopened at the gentlest of touches. Junie's eyes rolled closed, only to open over and over again as they cleaned together, draining the water to replace with fresh three times before finally rinsing the soap from her hair and her frame the best they could. Mrs. Woods pointed Molly to the thin cabinets by the mirror and told her to look for the brown jar of salve. Together, the three women lifted Junie to her feet, while Molly wrapped her body in a towel. Molly stepped out into Jacob’s room and dragged the chair in from the writing desk so that the girl could sit. Mrs. Woods padded it with another towel before they guided her down.
“Molly, my satchel is in the Kissel,” Cora said. “I’m not sure-”
“I’ll go look,” she answered, taking her leave.
Susannah carefully pressed a towel to Junie’s head and hair. Her face was full of warmth and tenderness. “Sweet girl, you doing all right?”
“You must be Susannah,” Junie whispered. “You sound so beautiful.”
Cora looked up at her tall friend who paused, teeth dragging across her bottom lip. “I am Susannah. Cora must’ve told you about me, huh baby?”
“She said you were beautiful in your heart, not just outside,” Junie sighed as her body began to fold forward under the womens touches.
Cora reached out and touched Susannah’s hand as her eyes spilled over with emotions. They continued to dry her. She could hear Molly explaining that they were just getting her out of the bath and to please wait. She appeared in the doorway with Cora’s bag.
“There should be a nightdress or two in there, Molly,” she said with a nod.
“Molly’s here?” Junie sighed.
She smiled as she dug into the bag of clothes. “I’m here, dolly. Nice to meet you finally.”
“You sound just as feisty as Cora said you were,” June remarked, a ghost of a smile on her face. “Cora, I’m so tired. Can I sleep?”
“In just a bit,” she answered. “Sounds like Jacob got the doctor here.”
Mrs. Woods was dabbing salve over the worst of the wounds on her back. Getting Junie to stand, she cringed at the sight of her bottom and shoulder blades where the open wounds were weeping from contact with the chair. Molly put the nightgown over June’s head and between her and Cora, they were able to get her body covered in the soft cotton without her wincing.
Susannah ran her fingers through the clean, damp hair. “Junie, sweets, I’ll brush this when it’s a little less wet. Let’s get you to bed, baby girl.”
The four women worked together to get Junie back into Jacob’s room. Mrs. Woods was able to lean down and yank the covers back. Doctor Boone was waiting at the desk. His analytical eyes were squarely on June, taking in her condition from afar. A low hum startled Cora as they stepped away one by one once the girl was down onto the mattress.
“Please do not cover her,” he said. “I need the room. Which one of you is the sister?”
Cora stepped to the side. “Me.”
“You may stay.”
The doctor approached as the others left. Her eyes met Jacob as he waited for the others to leave before moving. He offered a small smile of assurance before closing the door behind him.
“How old is she?” the doctor asked as he pressed his fingers to her wrist.
“Just eighteen,” Cora answered.
He shook his head. He looked into her eyes and felt the back of her neck. “She’s starving. She’s been…”
The way the doctor gritted his teeth made Cora shiver. He pushed the sleeve of the nightdress up, his fingers tracing what looked like yellowed punctures first on one arm followed by the other. He nodded at Cora to move to the other side of the bed.
“I need this up, please.”
Cora gingerly raised the nightgown. June’s eyes flared. “It’s just the doctor, Junebug. He needs to examine you to see how we can help you; get you well again.”
The extension of her belly and bruising along her ribs made her want to sob. The tops and insides of her thighs were marred with an array of bruising that ranged from yellow down to blackened purple. The doctor closed his eyes as he started to talk, but then stopped, rolling his lips into his mouth.
“I, uh, need to check her inside,” he said softly. “She’s been brutalized. I can tell you that much.”
Cora swallowed hard. Leaning down against her ear, she began to whisper, “Junie, the doctor has to check inside. I will lift your leg, but you hold my hand. He is not here to hurt you.”
Tears escaped Cora’s eyes as she took her sister’s hand with one of her own before tugging back the deeply wounded left leg. The doctor was quick, his face stony with concentration. With a nod, he directed her to return the leg closed. More puncture wounds were found in her buttocks. Doctor Boone shook his head.
“She’s severely malnourished,” he said, helping to right the nightgown. “I don’t know what she’s been drugged with, but it’s been often. Some of these puncture wounds are badly infected. The bedsores are infected, for sure. She’s pregnant.”
Cora’s jaw was quivering so badly she couldn’t make a sound. She smoothed her sister’s hand over and over again. “When can she travel? I need to get her out of here before…”
He shook his head. “If she survives the next day, it’ll still be a while before I would advise you to move her. But I understand the urgency. I let Jacob explain - to an extent. Whoever was putting the salve on the wounds, keep that up. That will keep any more infection settling in and will help the ones that are infected. Since I don’t know what she’s been injected with, I am hesitant in giving her anything for pain. She will need to be fed broth at first until her system stabilizes. Allow her to rest as much as she wants to. That is paramount for both herself and the pregnancy. I will check in the morning. If she’s still with us, we’ll talk about the next steps we may be able to take.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, not trusting her voice any louder for fear of breaking down.
She sat down on the bed, scooping Junie’s hand into her own. What her body endured would have shattered most women. And for her body to accept and grow a life was beyond Cora’s reasoning. A familiar touch startled, and tears fell the moment she looked up at Jacob.
“Why don’t you come with me,” he said, his voice soothing.
“I’ll stay with her, Cora,” Susannah whispered. “I’ll make sure she sleeps.”
Jacob walked her out of the room. Her brain felt like wet cotton and her mouth was too tired to protest. He led her into the front parlor and sat her down on the velvety cushions of the couch. He wrapped her in his warmth and strength and held onto the best he could. She was keenly aware she was crying. His hands moved between holding and touching, smoothing and caressing. He planted small kisses against her hair and head. But he never hushed her. Never moved to stop her. Never uttered a word.
“Thank you, Mrs. Woods,” Jacob said quietly. “You can leave it on the sideboard.”
Quickly, she sat up, wiping her cheeks. Cora stood and moved towards the housekeeper. “Thank you for your help today, Mrs. Woods. It’s means more-”
“It’s what we do for our family, isn’t it?” she said kindly.
“I’m Cora Janus. It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” Cora said with a smile.
“I’m Anne Woods. The pleasure is mine, love,” she returned with a grin.
The woman squeezed her arm before walking back out into the house. Her eyes landed on the tray of sandwiches and coffee. Cora realized she had not touched food all day and her body was suddenly hungry. Her hands shook as she reached for the coffee pot.
Jacob’s hand ghosted across hers to stop her. The heat of his frame melted into hers. “Let me do this, Finch.”
He poured her a cup and walked her back to the couch. He watched as she ate, sipping at his own coffee. She knew his mind must be divided, but the calm presence he exuded nurtured and soothed her. He made her eat the second sandwich as he lit a cigarette and refreshed their coffees.
“Did Doc say when she will be able to travel?” he asked gently.
“He said if…”
Her heart began to pound painfully. The realization of her sister not living through the night struck her brain and robbed her body of air.
“I know,” he said, his voice barely audible. “We’re not going to believe anything other than the fact that Junie will be with us in the morning, Cora. She’s strong, baby. She’s strong and going to make it.”
“You are my light, Jacob,” she whispered, reaching out and touching him.
An anxious knock invaded their space. Cora watched as her mother fell through the door, panic in her eyes. She set her plate down and went to her right away, capturing her hands.
“She’s here, Mama,” Cora said. “It’s not going to be easy.”
Cora felt Jacob’s hand on her shoulder. “Take her up there. I’ll take care of this. Go and rest with her. She’ll need it.”
Rosemary was quivering. Cora tried to calm her. She took her mother by the hand and led her up the stairs, stopping only because there was a hard tug on her hand. Glancing at her mother, she was met with horror in the woman’s eyes. She could only imagine what, as a parent, Rosemary was feeling. Instead of offering words, she hugged her thin frame close before pushing on into the dark beyond.
I know this is a hard chapter to read. Because of the content, and where it left off, I am putting out a second chapter right away - so take a break. Grab your favorite beverage, maybe a little snack. I’ll have Chapter 13 ready to go before too long, today.
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Including link: https://theweek.com/
"The implicit contract that created America's postwar economic boom — in which loyal, productive employees got big raises when the company enjoyed big profits — has given way to a new ethos. Nearly all profits go to executives and stockholders; workers get tiny raises at most, along with a cut in benefits. This philosophy, Harold Meyerson points out in The Washington Post, got its start in the 1970s and '80s, when American business "abandoned its earlier stakeholder model," in which workers were valued partners. In the current "shareholder model," the only goal is to maximize profits and stock value. Until corporations get consciences or workers get more leverage, the income gap will keep widening. Got that? Now stop whining, you ingrates, and get back to work."
https://theweek.com/articles/450458/real-cause-income-inequality#:~:text=The%20implicit%20contract,back%20to%20work.
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George Gershwin: 100 años de Rapsodia en azul
Escrito por Harold Meyerson
En una nación de inmigrantes -y no hay nación que se ajuste más a esa descripción que la nuestra- los conflictos entre los que ya están aquí y los forasteros que siguen llegando constituyen, aunque resulte un oxímoron, una constante recurrente. De hecho, se cumple este año el centenario de un punto álgido de ese conflicto, tanto en lo malo como en lo bueno.
Esta…
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New York Magazine
# New York Magazine
### The radical pessimism of Cornel West
Nov 9, 2023 at 6:24 PM
[New York Magazine]
In recent years, West has focused his ire on the Biden administration. Citing Robert Kuttner and Harold Meyerson of The American Prospect, he says, “It’s amazing to hear people who I have had great respect for say things like, ‘This is as good as the economy gets. Thank you, Mr. Biden.’ And I say, ‘Good God, I’m on 110th Street in Harlem, man. I walk out of my apartment, you got unhoused brothers and sisters and levels of grotesque wealth inequality.’” I suggest despite it all that Biden may be the most progressive U.S. president of my lifetime — not the highest bar, certainly, but surely his efforts to reduce poverty and withdraw from America’s longest war count for something.
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Labor History
Labor Quote: Harold Meyerson“What’s going on with the ATU and Loudoun County is part and parcel of a general upsurge of which, you know, we really could use a lot more.”American Prospect Editor At Large Harold Meyerson, on last week’s Your Rights At Work radio show.
Today’s Labor HistoryThis week’s Labor History Today podcast: Bill Lucy on MLK; Shubert Sebree on Debs. Last week’s show: Strong…
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The unexpected upside of global monopoly capitalism
I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TODAY (Apr 10) at UCLA, then Chicago (Apr 17), Torino (Apr 21) Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!
Here's a silver lining to global monopoly capitalism: it means we're all fighting the same enemy, who is using the same tactics everywhere. The same coordination tools that allow corporations to extend their tendrils to every corner of the Earth allows regulators and labor organizers to coordinate their resistance.
That's a lesson Mercedes is learning. In 2023, Germany's Supply Chain Act went into effect, which bans large corporations with a German presence from using child labor, violating health and safety standards, and (critically) interfering with union organizers:
https://www.bafa.de/EN/Supply_Chain_Act/Overview/overview_node.html
Across the ocean, in the USA, Mercedes has a preference for building its cars in the American South, the so-called "right to work" states where US labor law is routinely flouted and unions are thin on the ground. As The American Prospect's Harold Meyerson writes, the only non-union Mercedes factories in the world are in the US:
https://prospect.org/labor/2024-04-08-american-workers-german-law-uaw-unions/
But American workers – especially southern workers – are on an organizing tear, unionizing their workplaces at a rate not seen in generations. Their unprecedented success is down to their commitment, solidarity and shrewd tactics – all buoyed by a refreshingly pro-worker NLRB, who have workers' backs in ways also not seen since the Carter administration:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/14/prop-22-never-again/#norms-code-laws-markets
Workers at Mercedes' factory in Vance, Alabama are trying to join the UAW, and Mercedes is playing dirty, using the tried-and-true union-busting tactics that have held workplace democracy at bay for decades. The UAW has lodged a complaint with the NLRB, naturally:
https://www.commondreams.org/news/alabama-mercedes-benz
But the UAW has also filed a complaint with BAFA, the German regulator in charge of the Supply Chain Act, seeking penalties against Mercedes-Benz Group AG:
https://uaw.org/uaw-files-charges-in-germany-against-mercedes-benz-companys-anti-union-campaign-against-u-s-autoworkers-violates-new-german-law-on-global-supply-chain-practices/
That's a huge deal, because the German Supply Chain Act goes hard. If Mercedes is convicted of union-busting in Alabama, its German parent-company faces a fine of 2% of its global total revenue, and will no longer be eligible to sell products to the German government. Chomp.
Now, the German Supply Chain Act is new, and this is the first petition filed by a non-German union with BAFA, so it's not a slam dunk. But supermajorities of Mercedes workers at the Alabama factory have signed UAW cards, and the election is going to happen in May or June. And the UAW – under new leadership, thanks to a revolution that overthrew the corrupt old guard – has its sights set on all the auto-makers in the American south.
As Meyerson writes, the south is America's onshore offshore, a regulatory haven where corporations pay minimal or no tax and are free to abuse their workers, pollute, and corrupt local governments with a free hand (no wonder American industry is flocking to these states). Meyerson: "The economic impact of unionizing the South, in other words, could almost be placed in the same category as reshoring work that had gone to China."
The German Supply Chain Act was passed with the help of Germany's powerful labor unions, in an act of solidarity with workers employed by German companies all over the world. This is that unexpected benefit to globalism: the fact that Mercedes has extrusions into both the American and German political spheres means that both American and German workers can collaborate to bring it to heel.
The same is true for antitrust regulators. The multinational corporations that are in regulators' crosshairs in the US, the EU, the UK, Australia, Japan, South Korea and beyond use the same playbook in every country. That's doubly true of Big Tech companies, who literally run the same code – embodying the same illegal practices – on servers in every country.
The UK's Competition and Markets Authority has led the pack on convening summits where antitrust enforcers from all over the world gather to compare notes and collaborate on enforcement strategies:
https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/cma-data-technology-and-analytics-conference-2022-registration-308678625077
And the CMA's Digital Markets Unit – which boasts the the largest tech staff of any competition regulator in the world – produces detailed market studies that turn out to be roadmaps for other territories' enforces to follow – like this mobile market study:
https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/63f61bc0d3bf7f62e8c34a02/Mobile_Ecosystems_Final_Report_amended_2.pdf
Which was extensively referenced in the EU during the planning of the Digital Markets Act, and in the US Congress for similar legislation:
https://www.congress.gov/bill/117th-congress/senate-bill/2710
It also helped enforcers in Japan:
https://asia.nikkei.com/Business/Technology/Japan-to-crack-down-on-Apple-and-Google-app-store-monopolies
And South Korea:
https://www.reuters.com/technology/skorea-considers-505-mln-fine-against-google-apple-over-app-market-practices-2023-10-06/
Just as Mercedes workers in Germany and the USA share a common enemy, allowing for coordinated action that takes advantage of vulnerable flanks wherever they are found, anti-monopoly enforcers are sharing notes, evidence, and tactics to strike at multinationals that are bigger than most countries – but not when those countries combine.
This is an unexpected upside to global monopolies: when we all share a common enemy, we've got endless opportunities for coordinated offenses and devastating pincer maneuvers.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/10/an-injury-to-one/#is-an-injury-to-all
#pluralistic#monopoly#labor#nlrb#germany#harold meyerson#supply chain act#right to work#onshore offshore#uaw#vance alabama#vance#alabama#bafa#mercedes#antitrust#trustbusting
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The Future of Labor in Post-Pandemic America
[T]he Prospect asked seven labor historians, journalists, and strategists to give us their thoughts on how workers and their movements will fare in the months and years ahead, and their proposals for what workers’ movements should be doing—not just for their current members but, primarily, for the millions more non-members who’ve won the nation’s admiration and sympathy but still lack the power to significantly improve their lot.
Harold Meyerson: Introduction
Ruth Milkman: Can Unions Surge in Post-Pandemic America
“Nelson Lichtenstein: It’s Workers Who Should Determine When Their Workplace Is Safe”
“Mike Elk: The Power to Slow Down Reopening”
David Weil: New Laws for the Fissured Workplace
“Lane Windham: Labor Will Win by Championing Everyone”
“Stephen Lerner: What Is Not to Be Done”
“Steven Greenhouse: Turning Worker Anger Into Worker Power”
An American Prospect symposium, April 29, 2020 : The Future of Labor in Post-Pandemic America: by Harold Meyerson, Ruth Milkman, Nelson Lichtenstein, Mike Elk, David Weil, Lane Windham, Stephen Lerner & Steven Greenhouse
#future of labour#future of labor#pandemic#post-pandemic#unions#workers#fissured workplace#labour#labor#worker power
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The Kavanaugh martyrdom: when the Salem witch trial meets Mao's Cultural Revolution
The Kavanaugh martyrdom: when the Salem witch trial meets Mao’s Cultural Revolution
Brett Kavanaugh’s martyrdom before unfounded, bizarre, nonsensical accusations, is a Salem witch trial redux with hints of Mao’s Cultural Revolution.
The ordeal of Brett Kavanaugh takes us back to the bad old days of the Salem Witch Trials, though our proggies add their own Maoist Cultural Revolution gloss. If they succeed with Kavanaugh, he will be the first, not the last, to be hanged at…
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#Avenatti#CHRISTINE BLASEY FORD#COREY BOOKER#CULTURAL REVOLUTION#democrats#FLAKE#HAROLD MEYERSON#JERRY NADLER#KAVANAUGH#NIE YUANZI#PERJURY TRAP#RAMIREZ#SALEM WITCH TRIALS#Supreme Court#Swetnick
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The Genius of Bernie’s Gradualism
Harold Meyerson | Democratic Left - Democratic Socialists of America | October 26th 2017
Sanders’s Medicare for All bill is built on the understanding that revolutions take time.
Olivier Douliery / Abaca / Sipa via AP Image
Senator Bernie Sanders holds a press conference on his Medicare for All bill on Capitol Hill.
I’m a fervent supporter of Bernie Sanders’s Medicare for All bill, which he introduced Wednesday along with 16 Senate Democrat co-sponsors—and not only because I believe health care is a right and that a universal single-payer system is the best way to ensure that right.
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