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When
asked about ‘the revolution’ at a small college lecture in New England
many years ago, Angela Davis advised an eager audience to keep working
on organizing their communities in preparation for an uncertain economic
future. She didn’t have the “bam, bam, bam...don’t question...we’ll
just tell you” style of organizing that advocate Mandy Carter warns
about in Women Organize!. Many women, no longer excluded from the direct
action of community organizing, are fully engaged in the ‘working
across differences’ of democratic leadership. All three of the films
reviewed here explore the individual and collective aspects of the
cooperation required when people get organized.
Ten
years ago, the widely-respected scholar/activist Rinku Sen narrated a
leadership project documentary for the Union Institute Center for
Women’s project on women and organizing. Although Women Organize! (32
min.) highlights the efforts of five extraordinary women to train the
next generation of leaders, director Joan E. Biren focuses on their
specific organizations instead of presenting personal stories. Amara
Pérez (Sisters in Action for Power) draws inspiration from her work with
teenage girls in direct action campaigns. Lori Lea Pourier (Indigenous
Women’s Network) evokes the spiritual dimension of people in struggle
when instructing each person to “find your voice, be heard, take a
stand.” Stacy Kono (Asian Immigrant Women Activists) finds joy in adding
an economic justice twist to adult education programs. Mandy Carter
(National Black Lesbian and Gay Leadership Program) illustrates the
grassroots style of leadership she advocates. And Mary Beth Maxwell
(Jobs with Justice) stresses the importance of organizing for decent
wages. Designed to spark discussion on organizing tactics and
strategies while inspiring any audience I can imagine, this short
documentary would work well in community study groups and those
undergraduate sociology and political science courses that include
community-based research, grassroots leadership training, and youth
organizing.
Alex
Szalat takes a related, but more individuated, approach to women’s
leadership in Clara Lemlich: A Strike Leader’s Diary (51 min.) on the
moment in 1909 when young Clara Lemlich, speaking in Yiddish, called for
the “uprising of the 20,000” garment workers in New York City. This
film centers on the subject’s diary entries about her life and the
strike, while offering only a few clues about her life-long commitment
to the Communist Party. Read sometimes by Isabelle Hurtin and sometimes
by Lemlich’s daughter and grandchildren, the words of her diary reveal
the family life at stake in the firm resolve of early “female unionism.”
Other materials supplement the story of Clara Lemlich “finding her
voice, being heard, and taking a stand.” Viewers learn about the
International Ladies Garment Workers’ Union, the Lower East Side
Tenement Museum, and Lemlich’s life as a mother and grandmother.
Historian Alice Kessler-Harris comes on the scene to remind us that the
strike showed the world that “women could hold fast the way men could
hold fast,” despite the fact that they were often beaten by thugs,
arrested by the police, and ridiculed by other men in their lives. And
she is quick to add that, although Clara Lemlich was the spark, the
strike was called by thousands of others walking out of the shops in
solidarity.
Such a tribute to the
courage and social commitment of a Jewish labor leader, who fought the
injustices associated with resulting outrages, such as the Triangle
Shirtwaist Factory fire, belongs in college classrooms engaged in the
history of feminism and labor, especially those stressing the personal
lives of the men and women involved. The family interviews in Clara
Lemlich supply the most compelling scenes of these artfully interwoven
textual materials. But this film does not seek to explain the struggles
it mentions; nor does it mention in detail Clara Lemlich’s commitment
to radical politics throughout her long life.
In the film Women of
Brukman (52 min.), director Isaac Isitan documents a collective response
to economic uncertainty in Argentina when the economy collapsed in
2001. Although the future of the worker solidarity portrayed here is
not entirely clear, one cannot help but admire, while it lasts, the six
workers (mostly women) and their fellow workers who convert the private
garment factory called Brukman into a worker-controlled collective.
Celia Martinez, the central subject, joins Matilde Josefina Adorno,
Delicia Regini, Juan Carlos Regini, Liliana Torales, and Nilda
Bustamente in a long journey that begins by protecting their factory
when money owners flew the coop–leaving behind the inventory and
machines–on the eve of a major recession. Charting their political
socialization as they negotiate with others in the streets to protest
this injustice, this film gives ample footage to respecting the work of
these garment workers, from bookkeeping, to cleaning, to stitching, to
ironing, to selling the products. In the end, this group of
self-organized workers turns to the National Movement of Recovered
Factories, an organization that opposes the nationalization of private
firms in favor of worker control without state ownership.
Setting
aside the question of whether rejecting nationalization signals a
relapse back to private ownership of the means of production, this film
overflows with signs of worker resistance to the exploitation and
domination of capital. In place of wages and the everyday decisions of
management, the newly formed cooperative insists upon paying everyone
the same percentage of the surplus and deciding all policies by majority
vote in worker assemblies. In the translated words of Celia Martinez:
“We’re dangerous employees because we know how to run a factory...we’ve
tasted the forbidden fruit. We don’t want bosses anymore. They are no
longer necessary.” In the defining moment of this film, on the brink of
exhaustion after eight months and eleven days of camping outside the
locked gates of their factory, Celia Martinez is shown leading an unruly
crowd through the streets against corporate and state power with a
wisdom that saved many lives that night. The stakes were high for her
and the collective. Her coworker Juan Carlos Regini, who takes charge
of ironing the garments, explains it this way: now that Brukman belongs
to the workers as a result of a nonviolent takeover, “we all have full
names.”
Things work out in this story
in part because of the emergence of a new lawyer, one opposed to the
politics of left-wing organizing and right-wing conspiracy. Students
could be expected to debate the outcome in classes devoted to Latin
American politics, labor history, feminist economics, socialist
political thought, and local women’s responses to globalization. But
regardless of the outcome, the women of Brukman refuse to choose between
individuation and collective action; by the end of the film we know
about their lives, their struggle, and the power of organized people in
times of economic collapse.
Whether exploring the
collective power of well-organized communities, the courage of singular
individuals, or the creative spark that comes from working through the
individual-collective relation, each of these films brings the topic of
resistance back into classroom discussions about the possibility of
revolutionary change.
William Corlett has been working in Lewiston, Maine, teaching political theory at Bates College, since 1981. |
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