Clayola Brown

By Fred Gaboury

Like many people I've interviewed, Clayola Brown - the first African American woman vice president of the Union of Needletrades, Industries and Textile Employees (UNITE) and one of nine women vice presidents of the AFL-CIO - all but refused to talk about herself.

But I've learned something about dealing with modest people - call their mother. So I called Ann Shands, the 69-year-old mother of Clayola Brown. "What can you tell me about your daughter?" I asked.

"She was strong-willed, even as a child. And she always had a feeling for the underdog. These, and the desire to be where the action was, are what made her decide to be a 'union person.'"

The thirst for action in behalf of a good cause led Brown, then 15, and her mother to join in an organizing campaign by the Clothing Workers union at the Manhattan Shirt Company.

"We did the usual things that an organizing committee does," the Brown said. "I must have passed out a million leaflets in the morning and made house calls at night.

"I felt really 'big' when the campaign succeeded and my mother, who had been fired during the campaign got her job back. After that, I was more determined than ever that I wanted to work for a union."

But first there was college and another first for Brown when she became the first member of her grandfather's family to graduate from college. She also decided to get married and move to New York.

The tie between mother and daughter continued even as Brown's activities and reputation as a leader resulted in her becoming the first African-American woman vice president of the Amalgamated Clothing and Textile Workers Union (ACTWU) and, in 1995, an AFL-CIO vice president. (ACTWU merged with the International Ladies Garment Workers Union in 1995 to form the Union of Needletrades, Industries and Textile Employees.)

"When I moved to New York I promised Mother I would fulfill the requirements needed to graduate from Florida A&M and that I would keep her informed of what I was doing," Brown said.

And she did both - although it took three years to earn those eight credits. "But I did graduate and my mother attended graduation ceremonies," Brown said, a brief smile crossing her lips.

And there was the phone call home after her first arrest as a union representative. "Mother told me I'd better get used to it, that it went with the territory, and that if I was going to be a union organizer I had to take the bad with the good."

In the years since, Brown has done exactly that, working in ACTWU's benefits program and in a federally-funded program meant to advance women textile workers into non-traditional jobs in the industry.

There were other assignments as she worked her way up the ladder: director of education, civil rights director and now a vice president and manager of the Amalgamated Services and Allied Industries Joint Board in New York City.

But, through it all, she managed to find ways to assist in organizing campaigns.

"I worked in the J.P. Stevens campaign in the 1970s and, more recently, in the campaign that resulted in the first union contract for 8,500 workers at Fieldcrest Cannon mills in North Carolina, Alabama, Georgia and Virginia (see sidebar).

The discussion turned to the future, about the "new" labor movement and the challenges of the 21st century. "Where are we going?" I asked.

Brown sat a little straighter, her voice firm and the words tumbled out. "The most encouraging thing that has happened to me, and to the people I'm with who happen to be the same color, is the changing of the guard at the AFL-CIO.

"We now have a real attempt to forge a union leadership that looks like the people they represent and who must be brought into unions if the labor movement is to regain its influence and power.

"No matter where you work or whatever your job, this new look shows that you and your job are valued," she said and pointed to laundry workers to emphasize her point. "There was a time when there was no real push to organize laundry workers: the pay was small, the work force was unstable and the industry itself sucked.

"The same was true of health care givers in nursing homes," she said. "For some reason that kind of work did not carry the same value, at least from where I sat."

Brown said that she could not only see the change, she was "able to participate in the change, to be part of the struggle of folks who I consider need organizing more than anyone else."

She added that, although the demands were couched in different terms, the struggles of today are very similar to those of the '60s: "Dignity, respect, fair pay, the opportunity to choose - in sum, to be a worker and a human being and not employers' property.

"These were the same things we fought for then and are still fighting for 40 years later in 2000. As they say, 'Freedom is a constant struggle.' So is the fight to build unions."

Brown said that in many ways unions had been slow to recognize the changing mood of workers.

"The people out there pushed us, and by that I mean the labor movement, generally, to recognize that they were ready. When you look back, it's obvious that they were pulling themselves together a lot quicker than we got ourselves together. It was this recognition that fueled the demand for change at the 1995 AFL-CIO Convention."

Always the organ- izer, Brown said the labor movement has begun the "hard work" of pulling together "some kind of force" with enough strength to force employers to recognize that workers have a civil right to have a voice in the workplace.

"Some might call it a 'human right' but whatever it's called, workers have the right to a voice in the workplace, in their communities and, for that matter, in the world," she said, her voice making clear that she was willing to take on that task, too.

Brown made another point as well: "Those who would tear us down never miss a chance to destroy our self respect or to belittle our contribution to society and the nation. That's why the changes in the labor movement are so important. We're seeing new folks at the table. They may not yet carry the same weight but they are at the table."

Among those new voices are immigrant workers, many of whom work in plants where UNITE either has a contract or is trying to organize.

Brown said the job should be easier now that the AFL-CIO has reversed its policy and now supports amnesty for the six million undocumented immigrants and their families. "When the executive council passed that resolution it was a 'good feeling day,'" she said.

"It says that we in the labor movement have accepted the responsibility to represent those other minorities and to have more people who represent them in leadership roles," Brown said.

"Consider the fact that the combined numbers of African-American and Spanish-speaking workers is growing very rapidly. If we can put those two groups together, we have the basis for an even more powerful coalition that can attract other immigrant workers. And if we can do that ..."

Her voice trailed off but the message was clear.

Brown is also excited about the New Alliance program established by last October's AFL-CIO Convention. "Among other things we made provisions that will bring more diversity to the AFL-CIO in our central labor councils and state federations. That's important because that's the base - that's where the rubber hits the road - where what we talk about at the federation level gets implemented. That's where people get together to do the real work "

Brown may not stand six feet in her stocking feet like her mother, but she fears no boss and, like her mother, is determined to face the challenges confronting working people. As they say, "It's in the genes."

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'Understanding' and the the making of a union leader

Clayola Brown said she got her first understanding of what unions were all about during the organizing campaign at Manhattan Shirt Company.

"There's more to 'understanding' than 'knowing' although you have to know first. I began to understand - to grasp the principles involved - when my mother, who stands six feet in her stocking feet and feared no boss, sat me down and told me about my grandfather who was working in a steel mill in Charleston," she said.

Before becoming a steelworker and a member of a union, Jake Jenkins and his family were sharecroppers near Vance, South Carolina. "It seemed they were always in debt," Brown remembered. "They considered themselves lucky if the year ended with enough credit on the books to buy seed for next year's crop."

Eventually the family was able to scrape together enough money to move to Charleston where Jenkins landed a job in a steel mill.

The mill was rigidly segregated, with Black workers locked into the "3-H" departments where they did the hard, hot and heavy jobs. "But there was a union and even though the jobs were segregated, he was still considered a human being," Brown said, emphasizing her words by jabbing a finger into the air.

"And there was the paycheck - the first honest-to-goodness paycheck he or any other member of the family had ever gotten. For the first time in their lives they could make the decisions about what and when to buy - no more of others making those decisions. All of that registered in my brain and gave me a deeper understanding of unions."