AS SEEN ON T.V. (29/05/91)
I was on TV today!!!
I was on the News pictured stood on a picket line holding a
workers union banner and adjusting my official union picket
armband. It felt embarrassing to been seen in this way. To be
displayed to massive public gaze in such a personal act of
desperation. It had always been someone else on the news before.
Some hopeless bunch of unintelligent "Communists" bent
on obviously trying to get something for nothing and having
failed resorting to such foul means to demonstrate their
indignance.
The gaze of the press at Wapping and the Minors strike had always
appealed to the aspiring Manager in me. I would not permit my
staff to tell me what to do with my business. If that man worked
for me he would do as I told him or not work for me. If he wanted
to take money from me he should expect to work for it. If I said
he was to jump for it he should ask me how high.
Could I really have been SO unfeeling and short sighted? God I
hope those men have jobs, today. It occurs to me that it is not
an easy thing to be more selfless in this day and age. More
common to assume the selfish I'm OK who cares about you attitude.
The overwhelming desire to attain personal wealth, one of the
less admirable sides to human nature, is the stumbling block over
which society is steadfastly falling! Oh there's nothing wrong
with the philosophy if you are one of the fortunate ones who has
managed to climb a few rungs up the ladder, for the altitude is
intoxicating and memory short but if you get left at the bottom
the weight can become unbearable. More so, if those at the bottom
are helping those at the top increase the height of the ladder
whilst ever hoping they may one day begin to climb. Perhaps the
man who goes on strike is he at the bottom of the ladder who can
see the first few rungs are being taken away and that of his
piers few will be able to reach the first step and will be
trodden under foot.
I should have realised that the 'I'm OK' attitude was endemic
based on the interest shown in the ballot and in the subsequent
emergency union meeting called immediately before the strike to
discuss the issues. Why did so many people regard a possible
strike as of such little significance as to not even bother to
attend. Potentially valid arguments were put forward by all those
who had bothered, but by the end of the evening I was convinced
that pay was the least of the reasons why I felt it necessary to
'go out'. The ballot had been in favour of action and it was a
democratic decision based on the majority vote. If I wished to
remain protected by the majority I would have to abide by the
majority decision despite my own desire not to have to lose
money. I felt that since I was too weak to get involved in the
union process and ensure change to those areas with which I was
uncomfortable I would have to abide by what decisions were made
by others on my behalf.
I left the meeting armed with the official picket armband
determined to mount a visible show of conviction and solidarity
with the majority outside of my office EARLY the next morning.
By seven o'clock I was stood in the biting cold wind outside of
the office. I felt as conspicuous as only a one-man picket can
feel. I felt vulnerable lonely and confused. I had never been
schooled in the dying art of picketing. Certainly Janet and John
had never felt it necessary to picket the local cake shop. My
only role models had been those as seen on TV some years ago when
it seemed that the new political, conservative age was sweeping
aside the old naive, social order. I was half disappointed that
there were no charging lines of Police horses mounted by the men
in black under the hooves of which I could throw myself. Still,
it was obvious to me that what I had to do was to be right. I was
there to make a statement and to hopefully encourage, those whom
I held to be short sighted, to expand their understanding of what
it would mean to show a lack of solidarity with a protecting
greater number. To show by my presence that an instalment on
their long-term job insurance policy, was due. I wanted
desperately to explain to them what I was feeling and how
vulnerable they were with their mortgages and families and how
not all of them would have the good fortune to be included in the
"Vision" of a profit orientated future. How I was
prepared to stand next to them and defend them if their
livelihood was threatened. How I felt that this company had
betrayed my trust. Not by one specific act such as offering X% as
a pay increase but more by the accumulation of little things.
Daily things perhaps too small for some to see but if analysed
evidence of an erosion of basic worth.
It soon became apparent that my presence to the majority was in
some way threatening! This may not have been the case but is the
only conclusion I can reach based on their reactions. There were
three types in the main.
Some were prepared to stop and explain their personal reasons for
crossing the picket line despite their not wishing to. For the
most part it was a case of not being able to afford to lose the
wages for four days. Since by now it was clear that the latest
unguaranteed bonus would cover the loss this was difficult to
accept.(I hope for their sake that since they are so obviously
living so acutely to their means that we always receive such a
large bonus.)
Others simply remained silent and passed by as quickly as
possible looking at the floor. One or two became positively
aggressive!?
Dear colleague. Why?
Perhaps the most surprising reactions came from the managers to
whom my unquestioning loyalty is expected. There were a few who
despite the circumstances were prepared to stop, discuss and have
a joke and in so doing perhaps display some greater understanding
of what position they hold and what their responsibilities are to
the workers they command and whose respect they MUST command.
There were others who despite their constant claims to be the
head of a team suddenly found themselves able to treat their team
members with less than the commonest of respect. To be ignored
proved ignorance.
There was worse.
It had been intimated by a colleague that one 'team leader' had
explained that if that individual took industrial action he would
find himself back on the Post Office counter despite wishing to
remain on administration writing duties. When it was pointed out
to that team leader that he was crossing an official picket line,
the reply was "And I'm happy to do so!" The tragedy of
such an attitude in the face of such, by then, obviously futile
desperation, convinced me more than any Union argument that I was
on the right side of the door. I was happy in my financial loss
to be able to say I had not cowered before that bully's threats.
By the time the DM arrived there were three pickets!! I attempted
to explain why I was there and spoke of the loyalty I felt to the
union, my fellow workers.(For the union IS the membership if they
can be bothered to attend the meetings, not some separate entity
bent on political gain or anarchy.) He asked me where my loyalty
to the company was. I was unable to answer. Unable to explain
that such loyalty is earned, not bought. Nor should it be taken
for granted.
By nine fifteen it was clear that almost all of my 'colleagues'
had decided to ignore the call for action and had walked past us.
My spirits were low and I felt that I had been made to look
foolish, believing as I did that a democratic vote was important
and should be upheld. It was little consolation that as we were
about to leave we were able to convince one person to stay out.
(As directed by the majority!??)
It seemed right to head for the cash handling 'rem. unit' where a
day long protest would be necessary, although by this stage I
felt all that could have been saved was lost. Visions of
"Flying pickets" went through my head as I rode my
motorcycle towards the rem unit. On arrival I was even more
convinced of the futility of our actions in the face of such
overwhelming inaction.
There was one picket on the gate. He was stood there alone in the
bitter cold in front of the massive building with vans and people
bustling to and fro all around. He had been there alone since
seven o'clock. To make his 'point'. He earned my respect and
loyalty in that act more than any union official or management
argument could have done.
It wasn't long before more had arrived but of course no more than
six, since the Government had made it law that not more than six
should be the number of official pickets present at any one time.
With them came the news that at least some of the offices were
shut, not least of all The Galleries. It seemed vital that this
office perhaps above all should close in order to force those who
were convinced that nothing was rotten in the state of Denmark,
to re-examine their positions.
I thought I was part of a team. Part of a family even, with
perhaps the odd black sheep. I have been forced to accept that
each of us sheep is a different colour out on his own who would
happily trot away from each sacrificial lamb as it is taken.
Division of the flock is what has now been displayed. Not one of
us can now rely on the massed ranks of our dissenting colleagues
to ensure "fair play", fair pay or long term job
security. Unquestioning subservience was perhaps someone's
mission and must now be the realised vision.
I wonder if on returning to work on Monday I will be made to feel
the odd one out when my non striking "colleagues" will
perhaps find beneath their seats a T shirt given in 'recognition'
by the management, celebrating the fact that they did not go on
strike.
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