Monday, June 29, 2015

Helen Keller: Why I Became an IWW (in Chinese) 海倫•凱勒:我為何加入世界產業工人

海倫•凱勒:我為何加入世界產業工人

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今日是海倫•凱勒135歲冥壽。世界產業工人(Industrial Workers of the World)香港分部翻譯她近一百年前接受的一個訪問,揭示偉人傳記不會告訴你的海倫•凱勒支持工人運動的另一面。

海倫•凱勒何許人也?教科書和學校告訴我們:她是一位克服了失明及失聰的障礙,努力自學、奮發向上的作家、教育家。
但他們沒有告訴我們的是,海倫•凱勒自稱為革命派社會主義者,亦是美國史上最激進工會組織 IWW (Industrial Workers of the World,「世界產業工人」)的活躍成員。
正如愛因斯坦「只能」是一位物理學家,托爾斯泰、巴金「只能」是小說家。他們不會告訴我們,這些科學家、作家同時也是社會主義者、無政府主義者。
6月27日是海倫•凱勒的生日,我們節譯了一篇99年前關於海倫•凱勒同志及IWW的訪問,希望與中文世界的朋友們分享。

海倫•凱勒:我為何加入了IWW
(Barbara Bindley為《紐約論壇報》所作之訪問,刊於1916年1月15日。)
問:我請凱勒女士說明,她從女性雜誌上的多愁善感角色,轉而以一位強硬激進派面目示人的過程。
答:當初我的思想是迷信的。我曾經把失明視為不幸。後來我被任命到一個調查失明成因的委員會。作為一個曾認為失明是人類無法控制之不幸的人,我第一次發現,太多的失明個案可以追溯到錯誤的勞動環境,而這通常是僱主的自私和貪婪所造成。我發現貧困把婦女推進可悲的生活裡,並在失明中終結。
然後我讀了威爾斯(H.G. Wells)的『New World's For Old』,那是馬克思哲學和宣言的摘要。我那時的感覺,就像從一直的沉睡,一下子醒覺到了一個新世界——一個不同於以前所活的世界。有段時間我很消沉,但我的信心一點一點地回來。我意識到,值得驚訝的並非勞動條件是如此地惡劣,而是社會的大幅發展是建立在這些惡劣的條件之上。我正為改變而戰鬥。我可能是一個做夢者,但這些夢想必須要實現!
問:你認為這比活在美麗的虛幻世界中要開心嗎?
答:對。真相,就算它是悲慘的,也比幻象要好。幻象是任由風向擺佈的。真正的快樂,更加是來自內心,來自有堅定目標和信念的同伴——而我現在擁有的同伴,比以往都要多。
問:這些都是你離開大學後才有的嗎?你的大學生活就從沒有得到這些知識嗎?
答:沒有!大學不是得到任何理念的地方。我以為我去大學是接受教育的。但教育制度怎麼對待這個世代?我就是例子。這是一個死局。學校似乎熱愛已死的過去,並活在其中。
問:但你知道的,不是嗎。你的老師都是帶著最良好的意願去執教的。
答:但那並沒有甚麼意義。他們沒有教我任何當下的,或者與群眾切身相關的問題。他們教我希臘戲劇和羅馬歷史,著名的戰爭事蹟,卻不是爭取和平的英雄們。比方說,有十多個章節關於戰爭的時候,關於發明家的只有幾小段。這種對於生命之殘酷面的強份強調,滋生了錯誤的思想。教育想要灌輸的是,當個拿破崙比起培植一個新品種的馬鈴薯重要。
我的天性是一見到錯誤的東西就要與其鬥爭,以改正之。所以當我讀了威爾斯和馬克思並學會了這些後,我加入了社會主義者的陣營。我決心要做些事。而看起來最好的,就是加入一個戰鬥性的黨並協助宣傳。那是四年前了。我開始成為一名產業主義者。
問:產業主義者?你的意思不是IWW——工團主義者(syndicalist)?
答:我加入了IWW,因為我覺得社會黨的步伐太慢了。它正在政治的泥沼中沉沒。只要它還在政府體制內佔有位置並尋求席位,基本上它就不可能保持其革命性質。政府並不支持社會黨所應該代表之階層的利益。
真正的任務是在經濟的基礎上團結並組織所有工人,而工人的自由必需由他們自己去捍衛,他們必須壯大起來。政治行動是不會爭取到任何東西的。所以我加入了IWW。
問:有甚麼特別的事件引導你加入IWW?
答:那是勞倫斯製衣工人罷工(1912 Lawrence Textile Strike)。為什麼?因為我發現IWW的理念並不只是為了所有人爭取勞動條件的改善,而是要立即奪回一切。
問:你投入到甚麼工作——社會教育還是革命?
答:革命。沒有革命就沒有教育。和平的教育,我們已經嘗試了一千九百年,而這已經失敗了。讓我們試試革命吧,看看會怎麼樣。
我並不對任何危機都持和平立場。我對這場戰爭(第一次世界大戰)感到婉惜,但我並不以法國大革命時成千的人們所揮灑的熱血為憾。工人們正在學習如何獨立。他們正在戰壕裡學到將會對他們有益的東西。如果他們能為奴役他們的主人作戰,你也可以肯定,他們也可以為了自己而戰鬥。不要忘記,他們正在戰壕培養出紀律。他們正在練得戰鬥的意志。
我的願景將會在戰壕中實現得比任何時候都要強。在那顯見的戰爭被發動的時候,還有另一場為了人類解放的隱形戰爭。
那些半調子的激進派——我理他個屁!
有時我覺得自己像聖女貞德,整個人都被提升了。我也聽見呼召的聲音說,「來吧」,而我會追隨,無論要付出多少代價,無論會被如何審判。入獄、貧困、中傷,都無所謂。「祂實在告訴你們,坐視我弟兄中最微小的一人受苦,你們有禍了。

Friday, June 26, 2015

My Opinion: Gay or Straight Singles or Married Couples Need a Living Wage

     Though the Supreme Court of the US made gay marriage legal nationally, I have no reason to celebrate. Until the Supreme Court passes a universal living wage ruling, couples everywhere will struggle to pay their bills and economic strains will corrupt marriages and fall on the children or lack thereof because of in-affordability.  I sent these two posts to Discrimination in Taiwan Facebook postings on the ruling:
There are only two kinds of people in this world: those who work and those who are bosses. If the tool is broken, the boss throws it out and finds another one, doesn't matter what color it is or its sexual preference. A living wage is the most important issue. If everyone had a living wage there would be no need to get married to piggyback someone who'll pay rent or health care costs. If everyone had a living wage, more couples would be able to start families, have and raise children. This is the most important issue for workers; you can't have sexual freedom if you're a wage slave.

     What follows is the short story “Two Men with Two Taiwanese Children” from my book Forgotten People of Taiwan.


Two Men with Two Taiwanese Children


The monitor on the back of the Airbus was on. Every passenger had one; three on the left section, four in the center, and three on the right. This screen was on the back rest of a seat in front of a young Asian girl on her way back to Taiwan from America. The twelve-year-old girl sat in the middle section on the aisle, next to a ten-year-old Asian girl and two white-haired Caucasian men to their left. The four were together.


Her screen showed a cartoon airplane atop an upward sloping line halfway between New York and Inchon Airport in South Korea. The flight was half way there. They'd been flying for five of thirteen hours, the first leg of their journey to Taiwan. The tail of the plane inched closer to the true distance than the nose which dipped slightly. It was seven hours until they land in South Korea.


The two white haired men were their adopted parents, now in their sixties. The men had known each other since they were sailors in Phnom Pen, Vietnam. They were twenty-two in 1969.They were fighting together without any female companions, until they hit Beitou, Taiwan.


Taipei’s history of licensed prostitution dates back to the Japanese colonial era. The trade grew after the arrival of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) government and its soldiers, and it flourished during the Vietnam War when US troops flocked to Taipei for rest and relaxation. The men regretted their wild military days. Perhaps adopting these children was their way of easing their conscience.


      The young girls were Taiwanese orphans. They don’t know their parents are gay. They don’t know their parents are old Americans or why they came to Taiwan to adopt them. They didn’t hear the passengers behind them talking about them.


“Don't be ridiculous. Men make just as good parents as women. My son-in-law takes his daughter away on holidays by himself. They both love it. Stupid girl.”
     “What has it got to do with you anyway? They are not hurting anyone and I would rather have two dads than live in an orphanage. You are not suggesting gays are pedophiles are you because the statistics do not back you up. Far more are straight pro rata, so think again and get rid of these nasty bigoted opinions you have and if you can't.”
     “Be quiet and mind your own business.”

     “Most ridiculous thing I ever heard MEN ARE NOT BORN TO BE PARENTS!!!! So how do women get pregnant then?” 
    
 The church in Taiwan wouldn’t help them adopt. Actually, there are non-Evangelical adoption programs in Taiwan. One of the most well-known Taiwanese social welfare organizations, for example, is Roman Catholic. And it has been possible to adopt from Taiwan, even for non-Christians.
     The problem with Taiwan is that it is a very small country, so the number of children available for adoption is small. And when China's program became more restrictive and the wait times started to get longer, a few years ago, a lot of people in line to adopt from the mainland switched to Taiwan, which also had children of Chinese heritage, but which had shorter waits and fewer restrictions. Right now, there are far more people wanting to adopt from Taiwan than there are children available, so many American agencies aren't even taking new applicants; they don't want to see wait times for referral lengthen to the point where they resemble China's.


 The United States does not have formal diplomatic relations with Taiwan, so all consular functions are handled by the nonprofit American Institute in Taiwan (AIT). Children are cared for in orphanages; however, not all children in orphanages are adoptable. Some are placed there temporarily when their relatives are unable to care for them. Taiwan has detailed laws concerning adoption between blood relatives, and adoption in certain relationships is not allowed.


2012 Adoptions: 177 children
Hague Accredited: No
Estimated Total Cost: $20,000 to $35,000
Profile of Children: 43% are under one year old. 35% are between one and four years old. 60% are boys (2011).
Parent Ages: Adoptive parents must be at least 20 years older than the adoptive child. For married couples, one spouse must be at least 20 years older, and the other must be at least 16 years older than the child.
Family Status: Married couples must adopt jointly. Single parents may adopt. Taiwan does not specifically prohibit adoption by gay and lesbian parents, but same-sex marriages are not recognized.
Travel: Parents should plan to travel to Taiwan for at least a week.
Timeline: Generally one to three years. Waits are shorter for older or special needs children.
     These two men love these children. The children were raised in California. This was their first trip back to Taiwan since their adoption nine years ago. The girls are fluent in English and they’ve been learning Taiwanese in an after-school program in Irvine.
     On the map on the screen of one white-haired man, the plane looks to be near the North Pole, near the Northwest Passage, the route the same U.S. navy claims can be a boom for international commerce. These children’s fathers believe the global warming is a meltdown of civilization. They worry about their children’s future.
     The two men are in their sixties. They are the solution to the problem No one can say they are up to no good, even if they are, in the context of American imperialism. The blame has no beginning or end. They are not guilty if they are missionaries or homosexuals.
     The children may be Jewish or Buddhist; it doesn’t matter. And it doesn’t matter if their fathers were lonely old gay sailors who met at an orgy in Beitou, Taiwan in 1969. They have been saved from a life of neglect by these wonderful men. Look how happy they are. It’s probably their first trip on an airplane, aside from the one that brought them from Taiwan to California in 2002.
There are plenty of straight couples in marriages without children. They are not parents of any kind, unless you consider pet owners parents Feel love for the gay or straight couple raising children.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

"It Won't Work" Ch 13 Excerpt: Taiwan's Wilted Sunflowers

     This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


 “Emerson, I need you to take down your Facebook post. I am NOT public as an IWW member in China and it endangers me and others to post about my involvement in the IWW in this way. Please take down or make the post private now!” Mr. Ferric Mole, a man of twenty-five, younger than he thought himself to be, had blond streaks of hair swept to a side in his Facebook picture, a quizzical pose, slightly drunk-looking, slightly weary about a world he thought he knew but really did know not much about, outside of his inflamed imagination. He would have been a great model for ‘office yuppie’ in another lifetime; the guy at the water cooler sharing negative gossip about his office competitor to his clique. His e-mails were full of flagrant bullshit. To say he meant nothing to any government was a gross exaggeration. Emerson had run into his kind of inflated self-importance many times in the IWW.
     A month later, Fellow Worker Ferric Mole had a softening of heart; he saw what Emerson had accomplished in Taiwan. He wrote back: “
Hi Fellow Worker, I saw things are coming together with the IWW in Taiwan! That's great news! I wanted to get in touch to see if you would be up for having a conference call with other Wobblies in East Asia. If so, I can try to get one together. I am hoping we can have some kind of meeting next year; the energy of one group can encourage the others. I don’t know what I can do here in Mainland China. I can’t mention any names but I am connected to labor activists here. I want to see if I could invite a few from your group to visit and meet me and activists here. I live in Guangzhou, which is close to Hong Kong," like anyone in Taiwan wouldn’t know. “Would you be interested in coming to visit and meet activists here?” Sure, Emerson thought, if you paid me and you weren’t so full of crap.
      "I'd like to make it to Taiwan this fall, if you're up for it.” Emerson was trembling with excitement. “I would have stopped there on my way to China, but I thought it would be more politically sensitive to stop in Taiwan afterwards,” like anyone in China would care, thought Emerson. 

“Hi Chum: I finally meet Calcutta, He-Haw, and Pee-Wee, two of them Wobblies. We made up to meet again soon after the rigging from GHQ finally arrives.” Emerson had to hold himself down to contain his enthusiasm.
      “We spent over three hours in Dante’s coffee shop discussing the IWW. I ended up doing most of the talking as I answered their questions about organizing in Taiwan. They talked about how they had been active pushing for recognition of workers' rights for workers who seemed to resent their help. I pointed out that we should let the workers come to us who want to organize their work place but we should agitate workers and show solidarity to them in demonstrations. The first step was organizing in our own work places. He-Haw, who works in a small crew for a documentary producer, shouldn’t consider him a friend since he is a boss with power to hire, fire, and pay. He-Haw should ask for an increase in salary. I was just making a point.”
      “We touched on all subjects. Someone had asked if I was affiliated with the NYC branch anymore.” Back in New York, Binge Henchman read this, he questioned what Emerson had said. What he told them was, “I wasn’t because a Dante ‘Union’ job-shop was eating up GMB funds.” He told Henchman he left because he was moving to Taiwan; no sense in making the fool angry, Emerson thought. In fact he explained how Ry Grossinger jumped the gun by filing with the NLRB for recognition before getting a super majority at Dante’s. Emerson knew it would make the union lose the election. He wrote on to Chum, “I told my three fellow workers in Taiwan that we shouldn’t look for stardom as Grossinger had because of the conditions of no government union protection.” They had to be clandestine there, he emphasized. “There is apathy from workers and gangster-ism from bosses,” he concluded. “We really must let the workers come to us.”.
      “I gave Calcutta and He-Haw some gifts on behalf of the IWW and lent them the Kerr IWW Anthology I brought from Brooklyn. I gave them my signed copy of Wobblies, the graphic history. I also gave them a print out of Henry’s 25 page Mandarin (with Taiwanese characteristics, I learned) translation of IWW history and goals and one of three Wobbly pennants I brought. Calcutta was interested in the Wobbly City I brought as I discussed how David Graber had come to our GMB meeting in 2005 when he was fired from Yale and now was a good author; we should be that for disgruntled Taiwanese workers. I will copy the newsletter and send it as an attachment to her.”
     He also brought up his desire to keep localism as their focus even as they were international. He pointed out how Jacob Zhu of China Wash was a spy for China who came to the Chrysanthemum Tea House talk he did about the IWW and grass-root unionism. He distracting Taiwan University student with his ulterior motive of promoting unification with China even while he was anti-WTO, mainly to be anti-American, not pro-worker. He-Haw looked him up on his smart phone and knew who he was referring to. He also showed He-Haw and Calcutta the list of students he’d met ten years ago in Taipei and they recognized at least one former student as still being an activist.
In trying to start a Regional Organizing Committee for the IWW family in Taiwan, Emerson felt like a papa; he didn’t understand the kids. For example, the two native Taiwanese 22 year old members here who signed up in Melbourne, Australia didn't bring their red cards to the first two meetings they had. He fought with GHQ to get one of them delegate rigging. Finally, Calcutta received her delegate rigging from GHQ so she could pay her own dues. Then, she didn’t want the rigging! Emerson told her that they would have to give quarterly report to GHQ by the end of January 2014. 
     Jagger, a 32 year old Taiwanese man Emerson met ten years ago, hadn't signed up, yet. Emerson gave him a booklet of a Mandarin IWW translation he put together. Without Jagger signing up, and without proof Calcutta and He-Haw were in good standing, they couldn’t have a quorum for an official meeting. He gave everyone but Jagger a Referendum Ballot. No one completed Referendum ballots.
Robert Abraham, a 40 year old Canadian, hunkered into Taiwan with a wife and child for twelve years, paid initiation fees and dues (400 + 400NT) when Emerson signed him up; he’d been a Wobbly fan for years. GHQ hadn’t mailed him applications in his rigging but Sham and/or Yarn mailed them to Calcutta. Emerson took one from her for Abraham’s application and an extra copy for himself. Abraham wants to study the ballot questions again. Emerson sent an e-mail when he got home to them and Dusty Shu in Kaohsiung with his mailing address if he wanted to vote and if they want him to mail back their ballots together, otherwise he would mail his back alone.
As far as Emerson knew, Calcutta and He-Haw hadn’t paid dues since they were signed up in Melbourne, Australia in June. He had never seen their red cards. At sub-minimum rate, they owed 50 NT a month each or 600 NT together for six months. The IWW doesn’t care if you stop paying dues and go back later, Emerson reasoned. They kept your number and continue sending you junk mail, anyway. He-Haw was working so his income was higher than Calcutta’s. They should pay something to show good faith, Emerson reasoned. Maybe they didn’t want to pay dues; this was why they didn’t bring red cards to the two meetings they had, Emerson suspected
Emerson wanted to be a catalyst and motivator for the IWW organizing in Taiwan but Calcutta and He-Haw, or someone who spoke Mandarin well, had to be the main ingredients; without their dedication they were losing a beat, Emerson feared. He thought they had to be getting two labor organizations, Cooloud and Youth Labor, to sign up and help organize the union there but they, admittedly so, didn’t know much about the IWW. Only the translation Emerson gave them had guided them. They all spoke English well. He openly suggested someone translate the Agenda into Mandarin but they didn’t take the request. Maybe Jagger, he hoped, was mature at 32 years old to take more responsibility than the twenty-two year olds. Emerson thought Michael Stern was great, well-committed and responsible, even a half hour early. Calcutta and He-Haw were fifteen minutes late and Jagger didn’t show up until an hour later, after Calcutta text-messaged him. Emerson was becoming frustrated. He stayed up late at night wondering why he was bothering with young fools like that anymore.
At the meeting He-Haw agonized over how the IWW could become relevant to workers in Taiwan. He kept talking about the Taiwanese character of conciliation with their employers and acceptance of top-down management. He was really getting on Emerson’s nerve. Emerson suggested they take Elizabeth Gurley Flynn’s tact of agitating workers who had been displaced by mismanagement. For example, workers from the Chang-Chi Foodstuff Factory Co. who made substandard food products would be on furlough and possibly lose their jobs. The IWW could suggest to them that they take over the factory after the owner files for bankruptcy, as the boss probably would. The same was true of the workers from Chuan-Shun Food Enterprise Co that were found mixing cheaper Vietnamese rice with Taiwanese rice and selling the mixture as domestic rice in August 2013 or Top Pot Bakery management that lied about not using artificial flavorings. Emerson thought that would affect workers who could lose their jobs. Those workers needed agitators and organizers and might be prone to listen to IWW ideas of self-management and organizing.
      Abraham seemed to understand what Emerson was talking about. He mentioned how Sun Yat-Sen, a socialist, perhaps an anarchist, could be a thread with which to agitate Taiwanese workers and move them from acquiescing to employers. Emerson agreed. At any rate, the IWW had to become known in Taiwan to labor groups and organizations and fellow workers. Abraham’s idea of a business card was a good idea. Emerson explained how adding articles and endorsing workers organizations to their blog, Facebook, and the main IWW website could be used to put us on the page in the Taiwan labor movement.
Emerson thought they were well on their way to having ten members needed for an R.O.C. He could almost smell it. He could count six or seven, but only two he was sure of. Who knew how many would have them verified within two weeks; he could attach the applications in e-mail back to Chicago by November.
Emerson got the e-mail from He-Haw .It was in Mandarin so he asked Phoenix to translate; as usual, she put him straight. In the e-mail Emerson got, He-Haw called Emerson an “old fart” that should stay out of Taiwan politics. “You should spend your time learning Mandarin so you can speak with us on our level instead of bothering us.” Emerson’s old Taiwanese activist friend was an fart, too, according to He-Haw. He-Haw and Calcutta had no time for and nothing to learn from either of them. The letter hit Emerson like a bomb. He scratched his head in wonder; what had he said to so inflame He-Haw? Emerson knew he was wasting time associating with them.
He contacted Robert on an Instant Messenger call to get it off his chest:

E: Hi Robert. Are you there? Let me know when you're available to IM.
R: I'm available right now (8 pm). Please don't try to contact me between 10 pm and 11:30--I'll be exercising then.
E: Hi Robert, Em here.
R: Hi Em.
E: Glad we can chat
R: How was the meeting?
E: It didn't happen
E: You mean today’s?
R: No. The Skype conference? How about the Kaohsiung meeting?
E: The meeting last weekend with Dusty Hsu was nice. He brought his girlfriend, Sooty. Today I tried to Skype him but his father answered and told me to call back later.
R: I got up today at noon to be ready to chat with you, as we are now; but we didn't, of course.
Anyway, what was discussed at the Kaohsiung meeting?
E: I discussed that I have run into a dead end with the Taipei Wobs and Lin It-Hong's youthful followers
R: Who is Lin It-Hong? I talked to one of my students about the taIWWan website, and she checked it out. I'd like to give some of the IWW cards to my co-workers in the two schools I have part-time work in, but I'm worried they'll show 'solidarity' with the bosses, and I'll get canned.
E: That's great. Dusty H. said a friend signed up for regular taIWWan updates. Lin It-Hong is an activist I met ten years ago. He is at the heart of the land rights battle in Miaoli. I'm not sure where we can find more members.
R: Do you want to do the next meeting here in Keelung?
E: Why not. I was hoping it might be at Lit It-Hong's cafe in Miaoli but it doesn't look like that will happen.
R: There's a Dante Coffee shop on Chung-Shan Road, which isn't far from the railway. I'll have to check if there's Wi-Fi; if there is, I can bring my computer,
E: We are all computer idiots. Okay so where were we. Oh yes, right now it is you, me and Dusty H. in Taiwan. Calcutta and He-Haw are assholes
M: Well, we have to deal with the language barrier, or else we won't get anyone on board. The locals will naturally want lots of Chinese spoken at the meetings.
E: I asked but she plays dumb when I ask her to do it.  I asked her or He-Haw to translate the agenda but they played dumb
R: I'm sure she can translate, but doing so is a long and laborious process. It probably wears her out.
E: okay. Did you see the e-mail He-Haw sent me? I'm never writing to him again
R: I don't mean to take sides here, but we have to deal with the fact that English isn't easy for the locals here. I read some of the correspondence, and I know there was some friction; but I thought you worked it all out.
E: He-Haw said I don't understand 'how' Taiwanese people think, and he wrote it in Mandarin. He dissed Lin-It-Hong, too even though he is Taiwanese.
I think he, Calcutta, and Jagger are in this unification mindset and don't like 'independence' thinkers
R: Do you mean that they have a 'Taiwan nationalism' mindset? I ask that because, unfortunately, there's a lot of that here, as I'm sure you know.
E: Their group Youth 95 and Cooloud support unification with China
Why else would they did Lim It-Hong?
R: Whereas we have a more internationalist way of thinking. Is Lin more pro-Taiwan independence?
E: Yes. They know him well. He was on the news again tonight.
R: For my part, I have no use for nationalism in any country, be it China, Taiwan, Canada, Germany, etc.
E: Exactly
R: Lin was on the news? What happened?
E: A professor who supports their groups protest against the Miaoli mayor's knocking down buildings there was seriously injured in a car accident yesterday and the police are refusing to release the CCTV tapes. A few months ago, his cafe's window was smashed in the middle of the night
He's been on the news a lot and Calcutta, He-Haw and especially Jagger know him.
R: And Calcutta has no sympathy for him?
E: It doesn't look like it. He-Haw called him an “old fart” like me and said he should retire, too.
R: So you mean this is a 'young vs. old' thing?
E: Maybe. The bottom line is, Calcutta and He-Haw haven't shown their red cards and refused to vote in the referendum
R: Well, whatever their attitude is, I think that--in order to get as many locals on board as possible--we'll have to cater to their need for as much Mandarin as we can give. Otherwise, they'll feel alienated.
E: I agree but they're blaming me and not helping. I want to have the meetings in Mandarin, too!
R: Yeah. Well, if Calcutta et al don't want to be involved, then I guess it's goodbye to them, and we'll have to find other locals elsewhere.
E: You were at that second meeting. They could have changed the language to Mandarin in a second and just translated for you and me. I wouldn't have minded and I told them so, bilingually.
R: It's sad to lose them, but I guess it's a case of 'c'est la vie'.
I would have been willing to let them speak in Chinese, and would have had a tough time through it. After all, it's only fair.
E: That's why I'm upset. I was hoping we'd be on the way with six or seven members in good standing towards the Taiwan ROC and instead we have three, three solid members, but only three nevertheless. I hope we can get more, though there is plenty of time until Sept.'14 when our provisional ROC expires and we have to send the funds we raise to GHQ
R: When we get some more Taiwanese members in future meetings, I think it would be a good idea to volunteer speaking in Chinese a lot, in order to show good faith to them.
E: I agree, starting with the meeting near you. At the meeting in Miaoli with Lin-It-Hong my wife, Leona, translated.
R: It will make the locals feel more at ease.
E: OK Robert, it's been grand. Stay well and keep in touch
R: Good to chat with you, too.
E: OK Fellow worker for OBU

R: Solidarity! Ta-ta! :)

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

"It Won't Work" Ch. 8 Excerpt: The New NYC Wobblies

     This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 

"Swordfish," Jack called into the intercom when someone asked who was there.
      "Swordfish?" Emerson asked. “Why not Afghanistan Banana Stand?”
      "Why not?" When the man answered their bell with a ubiquitous "who is it?" they could have said anything they wanted. It was his choice to buzz them in or not. His was the War Resisters League office in the Muste building, the 'peace' building as it was known, on Lafayette Place a few blocks down from Tower Records. Jack had looked them up on his computer and contacted them to let them know they were coming. Maybe it was a password after all, “Swordfish.” Still, if they said they were the police, Mitch Rabbinivik would have let them upstairs just the same; they had nothing to hide or flush down the toilet.
      Emerson and Jack went up the dirty flight of stairs and found the studio of W.R.L. from the wall near the intercom in the dirty dim hallway. They walked past in curiosity to see what the next office was. The last door down the hall was the largest Muste Building meeting room, Someone had handwritten I.W.W. on a scrap of blank white paper and taped it onto the wood door under an engraved commemorative metal plaque. It tweaked their interest, a dozen windows from floor to ceiling, wrapped around the building's corner. 
    They heard the door opened down the hall. The boys turned and milled back sideways past Mitch's outstretched hand and into the room, eyeing as they did the posters randomly placed on narrow office walls to the left and right, pamphlets, papers, and a large open window at its end. The War Resisters Office. The website made it seem grander than it really was. Two desks side by side, Steve’s on the left, Mitch's on the right, each against the wall but the men's backs. 
      "This is the War Resisters League?"
      "This is it."
      "Only you two?" 
      "Well, we do have some help every now and then but, basically, we are it."
      "You are the ones who send out those e-mails?"
      "That's what we do," said Steve Stacks while opening and closing a draw looking for something which he didn't locate.
      "And print that newspaper you sent us?" asked Emerson incredulously.
      "We printed it and we sent it," said Steve, proudly almost.
      "All by us," said Mitch raising a bushy black Groucho Marx eyebrow.
      "You really need some help, don’t you?"
      "Are you offering?"
      "What do you need to be done?"
      "Well there is next month's newsletter. You could start there.” Mitch reached over and grabbed an open box of a thousand white business envelopes. “If you want to help, you can take that yellow paper with this white one, fold them together like this, and put them into these envelopes; okay?"
      "Sure." Emerson and Jack took seats, actually not seats but places to sit on; cardboard boxes and an old swivel chair.
      "What are your names? You didn't say."
      Emerson spoke. "I'm Emerson Davinsky and this is Jack Covert."
      "It's a pleasure to meet you." He shook their hands. Mitch followed.
      "What brought you here?"
      "We want to help, that’s all. We heard about you at a demonstration and wanted to help."
      "That's great. What school?"
      "Norman Thomas High School, Midtown."
      "So you're both teachers?"
      "ESL."
      “Does the I.W.W. really meet here?” asked Emerson.
      “Sure when they make it,” Steve replied reaching into his shelf and handing Jack a brochure, a small piece of white paper with a gear shaft in the middle announcing the Industrial Workers of the World New York City General Membership Branch meeting for the following Saturday.
      “I thought the IWW was defunct.”
      “No, they’re still around,” replied Mitch shrugging his shoulders at the thought.
      “When I was a teen I used to love Phil Ochs and he mentioned the Industrial Workers of the World in a song called “Joe Hill” but that was about years ago.”
      “Yep, they’re still around,” replied Steve incredulously.
      On the way home Jack and Emerson discussed the IWW. They each had some homework to do.
      A few days later it was decided by each to join up together. 

     Four people were present at that first meeting Emerson joined; he and Jack made six. The leader, it seemed, was some cranky shabbily dressed schlep who went by the name Red Zinger. He was sincerely happy to meet the new members but didn’t know how to really show it. When asked what the IWW did he could only repeat what they had done in the past. Apparently they had just gone through some turmoil in the branch and someone left or was booted out.
      At that first meeting, the first agenda item was that they needed to relocate because someone in some other group in the Peace Building was too lazy to wake up Sunday morning to get there and open the door for them. It was Adonis, May, and Richard Tempo who mentioned ABC No Rio as a new spot. They had been to the communal house before. Within a few months, the NYC GMB was meeting in the Zine room of the ramshackle tenement on Rivington Street on the Lower Eastside.

      The branch mutated; there had been a split. Emerson and Jack were  in. Zinger made room for the new Fellow Workers and they worked out a general meeting procedure from some Wobbly literature they had from GHQ.
      Emerson didn't care but Zinger was happy to learn there was one woman in the group. The only females he saw at ABC No Rio were in the kitchen cooking for a group named Food Not Bombs and none came to IWW meetings. They were cute young darlings, with an air of natural womanhood and suffragette pride; real people. But there were no women in the GMB until they met Sadie, rowdy and dear Sister Worker Sadie Strumbeck.
      Not long after Sadie returned, as was clear by Zinger and Adonis’ familiarity, a new recruit came up the rickety stairs into the Zine room through the creaky off-hinged door and introduced himself formally.
      “May I introduce myself my Fellow Workers; I am Eupheus Crutch from Macon, Georgia. This is the IWW, isn’t it?” For a moment Jack and Emerson looked at each other thinking of telling him otherwise until FW Crutch took a seat, unbuckled his regal timeworn leather satchel and removed an old red book. “We are the mighty union and I am to directly do so,” he crowed. With his Southern accent, blond hair and goatee, and be speckled face with red cheeks, Emerson called him “The Colonel” and the name stuck. “Y’all call me what you may, but do not associate me with that Fascist capitalist chicken dealer, you hear?” They all heard and laughed, anyway.
By the time Skuzzy joined the general membership branch, everyone was ready for some comic relief. The older tall members knew that from Skuzzy's height and young age, he would be the embodiment of entertainment, yet Skuzzy, well aware of his diminutive height, was insulated from criticism having been that height his entire life; he knew how to deflect criticism and prejudice. He was an Industrial Worker of the World, however large or small he was, and he was there, like the others, to fight for the right to organize unions. Since he didn't have an occupation, like most of the general membership branch, the union he would organize would be someone else’s. 
      Eupheus Crutch made sure Skuzzy was put right about the procedures of a meeting and Skuzzy participated like the rest, except for Jack Covert, busy as ever, outside looking in.
The first project Skuzzy undertook was to safeguard the collection of Industrial Worker news monthlies in cardboard boxes on the lopsided shelves of the room in which they met, a room that was called a ‘zine room’ by virtue of those and other cardboard boxes, filled mostly with unbound stapled chap books, manifestos, and zines. Yes, zines was what was in the library that the Workers of the World who lived in New York would be the protector of, and Skuzzy would be the point person to safeguard those zines of Industrial Worker origin. 
      "We should take them with us," said Skuzzy, addressing the third item in the order of business, the motion behind a motion to pay Mr. Hollander yearly instead of monthly fees for use of the room; deciding at each meeting was how they would donate to him that month for using the zine room. "Maybe if we give him a fee for the year, he can do something about those radiators." Skuzzy believed.
      "Those radiators didn't work last winter either," said Red Zinger, the historian and longest member. "We asked about it last year. It doesn't help."
      "Well then maybe we should have a rent strike and refuse to pay at all; that may put some sense into him," said Colonial Crutch, seriously, but out of order by his own definition, throwing personal opinion into a factual matter.
      "The whole building is falling apart," came Jack Covert’s words from the back of the rectangular room, somewhere between boxes of assorted wires and disused hard drives." His first priority is making sure the staircase doesn't fall down."
      "Is that a fact!?"
      "You saw! I am afraid to walk up anymore."
      "Order in the room: Crutch, Covert; Skuzzy has the floor," said this month’s facilitator, The Carpenter. Emerson took notes as quickly as he could; rather easily since most of what was being said was out of order and not for the minutes to be written about.
      "Point of order: how much do we pay Hollander now?"
      "Zinger? Do you know?"
      "We’ve given him twenty dollars a month the last few months; I wasn't here before then."
      "It was $10 a month; $2.00 a person and we had ten people attending, then, the meeting size dwindled to five when Sadie Strumbeck flew off somewhere."
      "She's been working on that island near Riverhead with toxic samples."
      "Is that what she's doing?"
      "How’s that?"
      "I call the meeting to order! Skuzzy, repeat your motion?"
      "I move that we pay Mr. Hollander $100 for a year’s use of this room." 
      After it was voted down, one hand one vote; simple majority, and Skuzzy didn't get his way, he went on to the third item on the agenda which was also his; the one about adding to the zine collection of Industrial Worker newspapers. That motion did pass and Skuzzy was appointed the point person to go upstairs to Hollander's office, with Emerson, to see what could be done about adding zines and creating a new box for them.
That was easy. Mr. Hollander agreed, since it was magazines from their organization and he didn't know how they'd gotten there in the first place; that was a volunteer’s responsibility, he didn't remember which one or when it was last attended to. That was easy to find out, too. Skuzzy opened the box, the one that said 1976-1982 and found each monthly issue in proper order. He took the next box off the shelf with no label, opened it, and found issues from 1992-1995. That was in order, too. Four more boxes were opened and investigated. It was during the course of the meeting, which suited everyone just fine since it kept Skuzzy busy and mostly away from the discussion. Skuzzy had a tendency to talk more than needed, like Gabby in the Al Zukof cartoons; he wouldn't stop yapping.  
      "Sorry to interrupt, but do we have any new issues here?"
      "Skuzzy, can that wait for later? We're finishing up."
      "Yeah. Sure. Later."
      The Industrial Worker magazines never did leave the zine room at ABC No Rio - half of the third agenda item's motion, but at least it could stay there and have issues added to it, putting it up to date. Maynard Carpenter would provide a box "that may not match the others" but that was okay and no one minded.   
Eupheus Crutch excused himself and had to leave early. It was okay; the votes were in and a quorum was no longer needed, then everyone realized that Jack Covert was still there, the fifth man, and they could still vote if they wanted to, but it wouldn’t be fair to Crutch and he’d be annoyed. The meeting was ended. Emerson read back the notes. Crutch stayed until he was finished, just in case Emerson left out some important points. Satisfied, the minutes were to be written, typed up, and put on the e-mail list-serve for approval before sending out to every member in the branch, whether they had been to the meeting or not, whether anyone even knew who they were or not, but Red Zinger knew who was who and they should all get a copy. The meeting was adjourned. Skuzzy was welcomed again, and didn't miss another meeting after that.
The positive vibrations and possibilities kept mounting as Emerson and the others were reshaping the New York City General Membership Branch of the Industrial Workers of the World. The group hadn’t been this strong in years, since the 70’s in fact, when it caught the upsurge from the anti-Vietnam War movement and environmentalists. Judy Bari, one of the organizers of the “Earth First!” Campaigns against logging redwood forests in Northern California was a Wobbly hero in the ‘80’s who had survived a pipe bombing attack but had just passed away from breast cancer. But in New York City, the IWW lingered until Emerson, Zinger, Jack, Sadie, Adonis, May, and Red brought it back to life with Skuzzy and Colonel Crutch in tow.
“Rusty’s Rules,” a simplified version of Roberts’ Rules was borrowed from the Portland, OR GMB and employed to define and focus the NYC GMB meetings; Colonel Crutch made sure of that. Communication between the Wobbly branches around the United States, Great Britain, and Australia were social and personable thanks to the advent of the World Wide Web.
Emerson was proud to be part of a labor union that had done more to ignite the spirit of American workers than any other union in the history of the nation. The IWW was to American Workers what the Russian October Revolution and the Chinese May 4th Movements were to workers there. Never had there been so much focus and attention put into fighting the class war against the bosses in the Industrial Revolution. Even after the United States government clampdown on revolutionary unionism with the Palmer Raids of 1919 took its toll, the IWW managed to live on and helped organize loggers in the Northwest and longshoremen on the East Coast.
If the IWW had not be decimated by the time the Great Depression hit the capitalist world in 1929, the industrial union would have been there, ripe and ready, to create the new world out of the shell of the old instead of Franklin Roosevelt hijacking the socialist agenda to create the WSA to rescue the ruling class of a sorely needed redistribution of wealth. Hell, if the workers were stronger when Wilson forced them to be slaughters with Europeans in the ‘war to end all wars,’ World War I would never have happened and six hundred thousand workers wouldn’t have been slaughtered to fight the rich men’s war.
There would have been a strong resentment to the scapegoating and red-baiting of Franco in Spain, Adolph Hitler and the other Fascist states. World War II might not have happened if the workers were united in strength.
      Emerson was sure that as the United States slipped further into anti-worker neo-liberalism in the 1990’s, the workers livelihoods could be saved before it was too late. Emerson in the Industrial Workers of the World of the 21st century were just beginning to flex their muscles and organize workers into unions. There was a way to go before a critical mass needed for non-violent revolution was reached but he and the other Wobbly activists believed that with agitation, education, and organization, the ultimate goal of abolishing the wage system could become reality. There would be nothing that wouldn’t neutralize the government-corporate media propaganda machine. There was a feeling of beginning in the right direction, the way it should go to help down-sized workers wrestle themselves from the exploitative designs of the ruling class.