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“We are in the fight.” My friend Irma Pacheco took this selfie of the two of us on Thanksgiving Day, which was Day 3 of our Unite Here Local 11 union’s strike to get a fair contract with SSP America. Irma has put her heart and soul into improving the lot of our community. I am proud to be her friend.

The strike will officially end–for now–at midnight tonight. We have won two sessions at the bargaining table, starting next week. So I will put this clean Strike Laundry away. I will be happy to return to work tomorrow morning, and I will be overjoyed when a fair contract is achieved.

But I and my fellow Union members know that the fight is not over. Should negotiations fail, we will put our shirts back on, load and unload vans full of protest signs and bullhorns and banners and tables and five-gallon drums and drumsticks, and go right back out there again, for justice, fairness, and our families.

An important part of The Great Human Adventure is a life event that involves a struggle for fairness. When a worker is a member of a union, and the union decides that working conditions will not sufficiently improve via negotiation with management, sometimes the member is called upon to strike, to refuse to work until a better set of conditions is offered.

This morning at 5 AM I joined my co-worker Cynthia and many of our colleagues by the entrance of the SSP America commissary, where we work as prep cooks. We were taken by shuttle to Terminal 3 of Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, where a picket line–or a picket loop, since the picketers marched in endless laps of a restricted area–had formed.

Strikers congregated near street entrance door 1 of the terminal, visible to air travelers and outside traffic. As we marched we chanted similarly to Marines urged on by a drill sergeant during a long slog. “Whaddowewant?” “CONTRACT!” “Whendowewannit?” “NOW!” Or “What’s DISGUSTING?” “UNION BUSTING!” “What’s OUTRAGEOUS?” “POVERTY WAGES!!” Or “SSP! You’re no good! Treat your workers like you should!” Some chanting was in Spanish, and my Spanish is nearly nonexistent, but I did know that “Si se puede!” meant “Yes we can!”

Union representative Kellen gave us an update, including encounters with management who seemed to be in violation of rules regarding harassment, enticement or intimidation of potentially striking employees. And state representative Cesar Aguilar gave us a good pep talk, saying he had our back and that his father and grandfather had always told him that if he was going to pursue a political career he should always be a staunch advocate for workers.

While we are on strike, in order to receive financial support from the union fund, we are required to clock in and out at the picketing site just as if we are working. And I did work today, marching and representing and chanting and solidaritying, a full five hours. The upside is my Fitbit step count went through the roof.

I’ll close this post with a chant I found delicious. “Everywhere we go–oh! People want to know–oh. Who we ah–are! So we tell them. We are the workers! The mighty, mighty workers! Fighting for justice! And respe–ect!!”