Workers at the plant are fighting to win recognition for the Union of Needletrades, Industrial and Textile Employees (UNITE). Point Blank Body Armor employs 375 people and is one of the major garment shops in the area. The company makes bulletproof vests and riot gear that is sold to the U.S. military and police forces.

When the plant reopened after the weekend, those on strike were chanting, "So, So, So, Solidarity" in three languages to encourage workers to join the walkout.

"I feel it, I see it, the union is here!" workers chanted in Spanish. The plant manager stood at the gate, flagging cars through the picket line with the help of the Broward County Sheriff’s office. Police harassed and threatened the union supporters who were trying to persuade co-workers not to go into the plant.

The majority of workers didn’t go in; they pulled their cars into makeshift parking spaces outside the plant gate and jumped out to swell the picket lines. By the end of the day about 200 workers wearing union hats and T-shirts were mobilized outside the plant. Union organizers estimated about 130 remained on the job.

Cadet is the third worker fired since July 18, when a delegation of eight workers, backed by hundreds more outside, urged the company to recognize the union based on overwhelming support in the workforce. The company responded by locking workers out for the rest of that day.

Union supporters cite long-standing grievances, such as low wages, poor working conditions, and abusive treatment by the bosses as what spurred them to wage the fight for union recognition. But it was the antiunion firings and threats of layoffs that prompted a strike.

"It happened like this," Cadet, who is Haitian, told the Militant. "On Thursday I visited the bathroom. When I returned two bosses said that I’d spent 10 minutes in there. This was not true. They suspended me for the rest of the day. When I came back to work the next morning, they gave me a paper saying I was fired. Word that I had been fired spread quickly and people were very upset. That’s why we walked out."

Prudencio, originally from Michoacan, Mexico, said the company is "kicking us out one by one. They are trying to get rid of the union this way. We are here fighting because they treat us like prisoners inside the plant," Purdencio said. "It’s worse than a jailhouse, because at least in jail they feed you." Many others described the plant as a prison.

Scott Cooper, a UNITE southern regional organizer, said the company "unfair labor practices" include the "illegal lockout, the termination of three workers, and a threat to move the work out of the plant. They have used the threat of layoff. They sent a letter August 2 accusing the workforce of a slowdown," Cooper said. "All of this has created an atmosphere of fear, intimidation, and threats--the most serious of which is the threat of a layoff."

On the picket line workers had plenty of time to discuss the reasons for the strike. "On our knees no more: on foot to fight," workers chanted in Spanish. One tireless sewing machine operator led a never-ending round of inventive slogans over the bullhorn.

Striker Ana Salazar said that in addition to ringing the factory with police squad cars on the day of the lockout, the company has put two armed guards in every department. "They pay the guards $20 an hour. And they say we are violent," Salazar said.

"They have even begun checking us with metal detectors every time we enter the plant," she continued. "They didn’t do this after September 11, but now they do, to fight the union. In reality, the only weapon we have is our mouths to speak the truth." Police arrested one worker on the picket line, and accused her of blocking traffic.

After 22 years working as a nurse in Cuba, Salazar now works at the factory as an inspector, together with two of her sisters. One is helping to lead the union. The other was working inside the plant the first day of the strike. She is a victim, according to Salazar, of "a closed mind."

Several times workers walked out of the shop and joined the picket line, to great applause from the strikers. The second day of walkout, several workers who were intending to cross the picket line were convinced to join the strike.

Many workers were opposed to the actions of the cops, citing the letter of support they received from the police union supporting their fight. Other workers, were not surprised at all by the actions of the cops. "They lack respect and speak rudely to us. I’m afraid of the police in Miami," said one.

The strike has deep roots. "They should have given us a raise two years ago, after the union was defeated the first time--but they were stupid. That’s why I say we are in for a long strike," said another sewing machine operator.

The strike has united workers from various nationalities. "We don’t have any problems between Haitians and Hispanics," said Cadet. "We have problems with the bosses, whatever their nationality. They are all racist and prejudiced." Chants and placards are in three languages: Spanish, English and Creole.

Enrique has operated a computer cutting machine for six years at the company. He says he gets a little above average pay and is a U.S. citizen. But his motivation to fight is the same as the others: the conditions of work and company abuse. He told this reporter that out of the three countries he has lived in, workers have the least rights in the United States. In Cuba, he said, he had been active in the Sugar Workers union. But it really wasn’t the same, he pointed out, because in Cuba the government supports the unions, while in the United States this isn’t the case.

Jean-Jules took time from picket duty to tell the Militant, "We have a saying in Haiti, it’s our national motto: L’union fait la force, or ‘unity is strength.’ That’s why we are on strike."  
 
 
Front page (for this issue) | Home | Text-version home