Shaun Richman

November 15, 2005July 17, 2023

The Great Blog Circle Jerk, part III

I have neglected to write about the Socialist Party’s National Convention, which I attended a month ago. There was much to be frustrated by, but also some reason to be optimistic. I’m not going analyze it too much. I’m just going to focus on publishing the best damn bi-monthly 16-page socialist magazine that I can, and continuing to build a network with the good guys.

Speaking of good guys, I finally met Wayne Rossi at the convention. Wayne was a voice of reason in committee and on the floor, an efficient timekeeper and a pretty astute political observer. His blog has switched servers and now has a new name and address: Beneath the Red Flag.

It was also good to meet and party with the comrades from Michigan, with whom the SP of NYC was previously engaged in a ridiculous grudge match. Ben Burgis, from Kalamazoo, publishes a very witty and accessible blog, the Debsian, on Red TV.

Steve Sears was not at the convention, although he managed to win election to the party’s National Committee by virtue of his rational and pragmatic e-mail posts. His blog, Sun – Surf – Socialism, is rarely updated and probably needs a new title now that he left Florida to organize nurses in Wisconsin.

I’ve noticed that MySpace “blogs” and LiveJournals abound among the comrades in YPSL. They tend to be much more personal in nature and are awash in the “OMG WTF LOL” internet shorthand that’s destroying this generation’s adult literacy rates. Amusingly, one comrade broke up the monotony of her totally emo dating drama angst with the occasional blistering ad hominem political attack. Unfortunately, nobody explained to her the importance of those cutesy internet monikers (like, say, “the red-bearded bastard from queens”) in maintaining a degree of anonymity. Full legal names turn up in Google searches, y’see. The diary has since been mercifully made private.

If you are one of those LiveJournal kids, this Blarg is syndicated on the service. Help expand my media empire.

November 14, 2005July 17, 2023

The Strike at NYU

The strike at New York University is entering its second week. Local 2110 of the UAW represents graduate teaching assistants at the university, who organized a union to protest the fact that teaching assistants increasingly handle a huge workload of teaching, preparing coursework and grading papers and exams. The union won recognition from the university and a contract in 2002. It was the first of its kind, as the Clinton-appointed National Labor Relations Board had only recently ruled that graduate teaching fellows are “workers” under the law, entitled to protections under the law as a union.

As swiftly as those new rights were granted by the Clinton Board, they were taken away by the Bush Board, who ruled that teaching fellows are not “workers,” do not have a right to form a union and are not entitled to protection under the law from retaliation and discrimination. NYU, always looking to make and save money, simply decided to ignore its staff union and rebuff efforts to negotiate a successor contract.

Now, without a contract, and with no rights under the law, the graduate teaching fellows at NYU are on strike. They are asking tenured faculty to issue statements in support of the union, and to hold their classes off campus. They are asking students, parents, alumni and the public to call on NYU President John Sexton to recognize and negotiate with the union.

The union has daily noontime rallies and roving picket lines. I saw a very energetic picket line outside the Bobst library this evening. Just head to Washington Square Park, follow the noise and join in.

November 8, 2005July 17, 2023

Why Tuesday?

Like a good citizen, I voted today. “Yes” on 1 and 2, “No” on 3 and 4, against Whitey for Mayor, Socialist Workers where I could, Working Families where I could not and write-in votes for “Socialism” for the judges and Public Advocate.

One question: why the Hell are we voting on a Tuesday?

November 5, 2005July 17, 2023

Breaking Up With Work Is Hard To Do

It’s funny how quitting a job can sometimes feel like breaking up with a girlfriend. Even if the break-up occurred for good reasons, it tears you up to hear what she’s been up to, and makes you wish, if only for a moment, that you were still there.

Sunday’s New York Times profiles the upcoming contract fight for the city’s hotel employees union, where I worked for three years before resigning last November 3rd. That fight was brewing for at least as long as I worked for the union, so I’ve had a front row seat to this drama.

The term “Me Too” still makes my heart sing. More than just a promise to keep the employees working, as the Times frames it, a “Me Too” is actually where the company signs the contract before it is even written. Whatever the other companies agree to, we do too. Please don’t strike us. It’s key. A general hotel strike does no real damage if it hurts all the industry’s competitors equally. But if the hold-outs are shuttered while their competitors who made peace with the union do boffo business, that’ll nudge the bosses to settle a lot sooner. Besides, no matter how impressive a $30 million war chest may be (and the membership referendum that voted by a nine to one margin to tax themselves ten dollars a week for two years is one of the most impressive, and unsung, victories for working people last year), it won’t last long with all 27,000 members out on picket lines.

Next year’s nine city hotel strike will likely be a historically epic battle between trade unions and the multinational corporations. My guess is that it will be the first real test of the Change to Win federation. This will be where talk is translated into action. It’s going to be a tough fight. I’m sorry that I won’t be a more active participant. But you can’t go home again. But I will be there on picket lines, if and when they materialize, and I will be exhorting you, dear readers, to do the same.

This seems as good a time as any to announce that I have finally accepted a permanent position with a union (well, as permanent as any job in the labor movement can be). I started this blarg when I was unemployed. I’m still figuring out how much I should talk about work. So, all I’ll say now is that I’m organizing, somewhere in the teacher’s union. Fight the good fight, comrades.