Undercover in a Chicken Factory
(Page 6 of 9)
January / February 2004
By Steve Striffler, Labor History
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This uneasy and somewhat absurd tension continues all day. Only occasionally does Michael see the rebreader bog down because of his miscalculations. Roberto and I relish these moments. Roberto suddenly forgets how to fix the machine and simply watches as Michael frantically calls a mechanic on his walkie-talkie. After talking to Michael and staring at the machine for 10 minutes, the mechanic swallows his pride and asks Roberto what the problem is. Roberto then looks at Michael, smiles at me, and fixes it.
Looking back, it's hard to explain why this petty struggle seemed so damn important. The irony, of course, is that it was in our interests to follow Michael's (uninformed) directions and let the line stop. It was a pain to keep fixing the machine, but we got paid the same whether it ran or not. Finally, the shutdowns benefited all the workers by giving them a break.
Why, then, were so many of us profoundly irritated when the lines stopped? Several factors were at work. The first was Michael's attempt to use not only fewer harineros, but fewer workers in general. It confirmed our collective perception: Michael's inexperience led to decisions that made our lives intolerable. They were also economically unsound. We believed we could run the lines better. Second, and most important, by concentrating decision making in his own hands, Michael removed the very thing -- control over the labor process -- that gave the harinero job its meaning. Finally, almost all the workers took great pride in jobs that likewise had been largely degraded.
Despite our protests, Michael forges ahead, and in my fourth week I begin running both lines. What he does not tell us, however, is that he has finally gotten the mechanics to boost the power. Roberto and I quickly discover that Michael has won. With more power, the rebreader almost never bogs down. Running the lines no longer requires the expertise of someone like Roberto. But while the job demands less skill, it takes more work. I now fill the flour for two lines running at a faster pace. The intensity and monotony are almost unbearable. For the on-line workers the change is devastating. By the end of the week, Blanca, a Mexican woman in her 50s, is overwhelmed. She has been hanging chickens for too many years and her body can't keep up. Hoping to stay at Tyson until she retires, she quits within a week.
Noise, supervision, and the job's intensity limit communication on the plant floor. The break room is a different situation. Twice a shift, for 30 minutes, workers watch Spanish-language television, eat and exchange food, complain, and relax. Supervisors almost never enter the room, and they're uncomfortable when they do. I was often the only American present.The few other Americans on the second shift almost always gathered in a smaller room where smoking is permitted and the TV is in English.
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