Labor Day Weekend 2023

I grew up in a union household. My father was a union member and civil servant, running the motor pool at Fort Snelling in Minnesota. He instilled in me the understanding that when people band together for the good of all, the results include reasonable hours of work, holidays, health insurance, a life outside of work that stands free of those for whom one works. He talked about what it was like before labor unions existed – exploitation of people, including children, fear, poverty in spite of hard work. I learned early what AFL-CIO stood for (The American Federation of Labor and Congress of Industrial Organizations). And, in Minnesota, we were the only state to have the DFL – Democratic Farmer-Labor Party. Still are.

My mother, too, believed in unions. She lost her job as a young woman after her boss learned she got married. Married women were not supposed to take jobs away from men who needed them to support their families. She talked about the woman who ratted her out, as she put it, after my mom had been keeping her marriage a secret because she needed the wages. I always wondered who my mom was angrier with: that woman who tattled or the boss who fired her. And, if you’re wondering, that was in 1935 when my then 18-year-old mom was a newlywed. I’m no longer sure what her job was, but remember her talking about working for the telephone company. She went on to work as an insurance agent and a factory worker at an arsenal right after World War II.

Things have changed a great deal since then, but the fight for workers’ rights never ends. I still believe strongly in worker’s unions, living wages, protections against child labor, benefits for all. Equity. Equality. Healthcare. Education. We can do better, especially if we quit making money the only reason to do anything – or not do anything – at all.

So, this weekend, I’ll be thinking about more than the end of summer, the last barbecue before school starts, and where all the Labor Day sales are. It’s deeply rooted in me to cheer for those who do the hard, dirty work of keeping things going, whether that’s serving food, fixing cars, repairing someone’s roof, teaching kids, or caring for someone in a hospital bed. It all matters.

That doesn’t mean I won’t pour myself a beer and toast this transition into fall. I’ll also toast workers everywhere, including my daughter who works in human resources and wants to make things better for all employees, and my son who both makes and teaches art with a distinct flair for social justice.

Here’s a piece of public art from our own Minnesota State Fair that my son and the art collective he co-founded created to celebrate Minnesota workers. I’m proud of him and his colleagues in the Rogue Citizen art gang who have a record of standing up for others.

Happy Labor Day to all. Cheers.