Every Chicago public school is my school. Our schools. VIDEO
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The in box. The union movement will be a youth movement.
Fred, may I tell you a quick story?
I was a local prez of an urban local here in Massachusetts. I heard repeatedly over the years that young teachers don’t “get” unions any more, that they “don’t understand” and that they won’t stick to the union.
In 2007 we were on strike, with 100% participation. Not one scab. Every young teachers, too. They were great. So, we’re picketing in the city square, and we are done and leaving. A reporter comes up to me and says, “So what’s the mayor’s press conference about?”
I said, “Press conference?” Damn, everybody had already left. Except a group of the young teachers. I told them about the sneak conference the Mayor was trying to have. They pulled out their phones and texted like madmen…and women. I’m old…I just watched. A half hour later I had 350 people who came back justlikethat.
I was a local prez of an urban local here in Massachusetts. I heard repeatedly over the years that young teachers don’t “get” unions any more, that they “don’t understand” and that they won’t stick to the union.
In 2007 we were on strike, with 100% participation. Not one scab. Every young teachers, too. They were great. So, we’re picketing in the city square, and we are done and leaving. A reporter comes up to me and says, “So what’s the mayor’s press conference about?”
I said, “Press conference?” Damn, everybody had already left. Except a group of the young teachers. I told them about the sneak conference the Mayor was trying to have. They pulled out their phones and texted like madmen…and women. I’m old…I just watched. A half hour later I had 350 people who came back justlikethat.
I’m stickin’ to the union.
Popout.
In 1957 when my family was moving from Philly to LA in a 1951 black Mercury, we did what any American family would do when driving mile after mile after mile.
We sang.
This was before the completion of the interstate highway system and we were on old Route 66. Mile after mile after mile.
We had no money and dad had spent a couple of hundred buck on the old beater. To make the final part of the journey across the Mojave desert in the middle of the night, Dad had my brother and me chew gum to stick on
In 1957 when my family was moving from Philly to LA in a 1951 black Mercury, we did what any American family would do when driving mile after mile after mile.
We sang.
This was before the completion of the interstate highway system and we were on old Route 66. Mile after mile after mile.
We had no money and dad had spent a couple of hundred buck on the old beater. To make the final part of the journey across the Mojave desert in the middle of the night, Dad had my brother and me chew gum to stick on
