Copyright 2006 Cox Enterprises, Inc.
Cox News Service

September 2, 2006 Saturday

SECTION: Domestic; Non-Washington; General News Item

HEADLINE: Union gets some static in Newnan

BYLINE: MIKE TIERNEY

BODY:
Hardly a parking space could be found. Hourly paid workers - some burning their day off - jammed the lot, crowded further because top brass flew in for the big event.
It's election day at the Newnan operations center for InterCall, a global service provider of video, audio and Web conferencing.
Three months of workplace tensions, off-campus organizing sessions, buttons and bumper stickers, management counter-campaigning and disputed disciplinary action came down to this: a four-hour window during which up to 170 employees would place a single check mark on a paper ballot: yes or no on forming a union.
The company, with five call centers and 26 sales offices in North America, had never encountered a union drive in its 15 years. And the hierarchy was determined to squelch this one.
Thursday's vote fell, by coincidence, during the lead-up to Labor Day weekend, the high holy period for unionists.
The holiday owes its existence to the movement. Unions were dignified with the reluctant creation of Labor Day by President Grover Cleveland, no fan of their crusade, in 1884.
More than a century later, the handful of restless InterCall staffers could not have gotten stirred up at a less promising moment and place.
In recent years, a hard rain has pelted organized labor. Of every eight American workers, one holds a union card. During the last fiscal year, the number of elections, or certification votes such as InterCall's, hit rock bottom since significant revisions to the National Labor Relations Act in 1947. Barely 70,000 clock-punchers were initiated into unions, the fewest ever since organizing took root.
"Unions are facing quite an unfavorable environment," said labor expert Les Hough, research director of the Usery Center for the Workplace at Georgia State.
"It's very, very challenging" to get a union off the ground, particularly in the private sector.
From the front lines, Larry Wofford echoed Hough's perspective. An official with the Communication Workers of America, he said, "It's difficult in this day and time to organize. The Republican administration is so anti-union."
Half of all U.S. employers are skittish enough about unions that they threaten to shut down partially or fully if workers organize, according to a study by the School of Industrial and Labor Relations at Cornell University. Its researchers concluded that one-fourth of privately owned firms have fired someone in the pro-union ranks.
The Deep South has been especially resistant, as evidenced by the sprouting of union-free auto plants and the southward migration of many other businesses.
"Employers want to fight harder [against unionizing] because they see their competition is not organized," noted Stewart Acuff, former president of the Atlanta Labor Council, now an AFL-CIO director.
The movement can take some heart in a rising batting average. It registered a 60.4 percent success rate with elections the last fiscal year, highest in a half-century.
"Unions are being more careful with going into campaigns where they think they have no chance," Hough said, noting a philosophical shift triggered in part by necessity. Dwindling membership rolls mean a smaller pool of dues to finance campaigns.
Acuff contends Southern workers' appetite for unions is as ravenous as anywhere else. So does Wofford; his CWA Local 3212, which covers much of the state, accepted an invitation from InterCall's union drumbeaters to represent them.
"The economy being like it is, people are looking for ways to improve their wages and benefits," he said. Unionizing "is one of those ways."
Victory at the ballot box doesn't end the battle. Local 3212 and InterCall would have a year to agree on a contract. Otherwise, a new election could be called, workers could strike or the union effort could be abandoned.
One of every three pro-union votes fails to result in a deal, according to the Cornell researchers.
Pay issues
The union enthusiasts in Newnan first approached CWA after a testy exchange with an executive of West Corp., InterCall's parent company. The executive fielded their vents over pay issues, seven-year employee Rebecca Wagner said, before complaining that he, too, was undercompensated despite a seven-figure annual salary.
That spurred a meeting of about two dozen workers. Many signed on to a committee chaired by Angela Downs, onetime union member at BellSouth who hired on at InterCall 2? years ago.
"It was a much better turnout than we expected," she said, her shirt lapel and purse dotted with union rah-rah buttons. "In the South, a union is kind of a rare thing."
Downs earns $11 an hour, the call center's top scale for base pay. More typical is Heather Ward at $9.50. "We're struggling," said the part-time college student. Starting hourly wage is $7.25.
The activists, who also pushed for a grievance procedure and consistent enforcement of on-the-job rules, maintain that Newnan workers are paid on average about 20 percent below the industry norm.
Point to bonuses
InterCall executives pointed out that many collect quarterly bonuses - Downs acknowledged receiving $800 recently - and other extra stipends. Bonuses can close the gap, Wofford conceded, but unions prefer that such money be applied to base pay because that pushes up benefits as well.
Committee leaders, careful to abide by workplace laws for organizing, began distributing pamphlets and talking up their cause during breaks in the allowable areas. Yet some say they were cited by management for solicitation and placed on probation, a misstep shy of dismissal.
Wagner cleaned out her desk the day she was written up, figuring firing was inevitable.
"That's typical," Wofford, the CWA official, said of InterCall. "They don't know a lot about unions. They react in an uneducated manner.
"Sometimes they think a union will come in and turn things upside-down. That's not the case."
Wofford intervened, and the affected workers say they were restored to good standing. Company officials declined to confirm their account, citing the privacy of personnel records.
As the organizing campaign continued, anxiety permeated the building, workers in both camps said, though nobody observed a decline in job performance. "We were like a family before," said Shannon Germany, who voted against a union. "This kind of put a wedge between us."
One upset co-worker asked Downs, "Why did you start this?" Another threatened to sic pet dogs on anyone who paid a home visit.
Luaus and pay delays
Management argued vigorously against organizing, as it is permitted to do by labor law. Groups of workers watched films and heard speeches intended to influence their decision. The message, Downs said: "When in doubt, vote no."
An announcement that work duties could be shifted to InterCall's sister location in West Point was heard as a warning by Downs and her aides. "They flexed their muscle," she said.
And they perceived a series of friendly gestures - an ice cream social and a luau during work hours, a loosening of the Friday casual dress code - as a subtle attempt to kill the union bid softly.
Management said those measures were unrelated to the election and that work in Newnan is routinely handed off to West Point.
A memo to workers stating that pay raises would be delayed in Newnan until the labor issue was settled ignited union support, according to Downs.
"Some people wearing anti-union buttons, when they read that, took them off and threw them in the garbage."
But there was no employee rush to attend organizing sessions. Wagner worried that the bulk of the mostly female work crew - young, without college degrees - were content just to pocket a steady paycheck.
'It's a start'
Prospective voters were scarce last Sunday at a final rally where, not coincidentally, the film "Office Space," a comedy about rebellious workers and their grumpy boss, was aired.
Still, "I think we're going to win," Downs said.
Wofford, the seasoned organizer, wasn't so sure: "I think it's going to be close."
Both predictions missed the mark, badly. The nays won overwhelmingly, 126-26.
"We have a great, great company," said Rashida Wright, reveling Thursday in the outcome with colleagues, some sporting buttons with a slash across the word 'union.' "They are lenient on everything."
Some said they appreciated an open-door policy and the freedom to leave work for family matters.
"We don't think we needed a third person to come in here making decisions for us," Tishana Hines said.
Management was all smiles. "We are certainly thrilled at their decision," said Molly Fulghum, senior director of North American operations. "We thank them for the vote of confidence."
The executives shook hands with a disconsolate Downs, who voiced concern that she would be "blackballed" for promotions.
They assured Downs that the organizing drive would not be held against her.
Outside the building, she said, "I thought I'd just be a mess" but found unexpected solace in defeat.
"I'm proud of the committee. I feel like we already have effected many changes," she said, citing a new jeans-on-Friday policy and a pay boost of 25 cents per hour for veterans of three or more years.
"No great shakes, but it's a start."
The company's anti-union lobbying, she said, "scared a lot of people. If we had been in a Northern or even a Midwestern state, we might have had a better result."
There was one more day of work, dress-down Friday, before Downs and her allies could patch up their wounds over the Labor Day weekend.
She sighed and said, "I am ready to accept the decision of my co-workers. This is very obviously what they wanted. I hope their 'no' votes today are justified."