Much is being made of this notion of Austerity. The idea that we just have to "tighten our belts" and this will be better for the next generation. Well that guarantees that the next generation won't have it any better if that is the point and purpose its working.
Why many working class workers hate Unions is simply resentment. When you find yourself without job security, strong benefits and the ability to collectively negotiate its easy to see why Union bashing is often by the very ones who would serve to benefit from it.
I am and have been a member of one Union or another most of my adult working life. I have had good experiences and bad but ultimately I get it. I really do. I make a living wage. I don't have benefits, pension and am exempt from labor protection benefit, such as Unemployment Insurance. So I get it, I really do. My Union is ineffectual for me. Period. When there is a dispute with my employer because of that I have to hire an Attorney as the Union does not handle the "type" of contracted employee I am. So ostensibly the only benefit is the hour and wage negotiations they get. And I get that too, I really do.
But see I don't begrudge my crappy Teacher's union for failing me. I have no interest in actually doing something about changing it. I don't care frankly. I cannot wait to leave the area and work doing what I want to do and that is teach Sustainability. So this is simply a stopgap. But for many of my colleagues this is their livelihood and they are not very lively. And yet they are educated and degreed. So again that American Unicorn Myth that the lower the likelihood of being un/underemployed when you have a degree... well think again.
America the new Economy, we built it and paid for it, they get to keep it.
Unionizing the Bottom of the Pay Scale
by Eduardo Porter
Published December 5, 2012
Other than poverty, José Carrillo and Joshua Williams have little in common. The austere life of Mr. Carrillo, a 79-year-old Peruvian immigrant from Washington Heights, is a universe apart from the hardscrabble reality of Mr. Williams, a 28-year-old single father from Atlanta staying at his aunt’s place in Brooklyn to save on rent.