Show Me What Solidarity Looks Like

By Susie Stulz

I was living in New York City in December, 2005 when the buses and subways ground to a halt. Roger Toussaint, an immigrant from Trinidad and Tobago and president of Transport Workers Union (TWU) Local 100, had called a strike against the Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA), which lasted three days. Mike Bloomberg, the billionaire who was mayor at the time, wasn't pleased. He called Toussaint a thug, reprehensible and selfish and threatened to arrest him. And in fact, Toussaint ultimately spent time in jail for the strike.

After work each day I joined the picket line outside the Union Square station at 14th Street and got to spend a good deal of time talking with the (mostly) guys on strike. They’re your typical rail buffs, fascinated with timetables, precision, and the predictability of rail systems. They told me about the signaling systems, track layouts, and mechanical aspects of the NYC subway system.

But while they clearly loved their jobs, they faced plenty of challenges: wages that couldn’t keep up with the rising costs of the city, safety rules that barred them from taking second jobs to make ends meet, and residency requirements that prevented them from moving to more affordable towns. And here's what was so remarkable about these employees: despite their hardships they weren’t on strike for their own benefit. They walked off the job to protect future MTA employees.

At the time, the MTA wanted to save money, so they proposed a modified pension system. Existing workers would still get their reasonable benefits, but all new hires would get a lot less. 

Toussaint vehemently rejected the proposal, saying the union would never “sacrifice its unborn.” And in defense of those unborns, people who could least afford it went on strike and incurred a financial hit. Is anyone surprised that billionaire Bloomberg would paint Toussaint as a danger to society?

It was hard not to be moved by Toussaint and the MTA employees (no pun intended). His insistence that unions have a moral obligation that goes beyond current employees rallied New Yorkers to their cause. Yeah it was cold, and yeah we had to walk hundreds of blocks to get to and from work, but we supported the strike. It's why we joined them in walking the picket line.

After the second day of picketing I continued up Broadway and stopped at Citarella at 75th Street. There I chatted with the butcher about the strike, and he was furious. “I don’t get a pension,” he told me. “Why should they?”

His resentment spoke volumes about our society and its worship of the billionaire class. And the Bloombergs of the country have mastered the art of pitting worker against worker. Their superpower lies in convincing us that our hardships are not due to the uber wealthy hoarding resources; they're the fault of “others”—immigrants, union members—getting more than they deserve.

And yet, history shows over and over that when unions demand change and win concessions we all benefit.  Every right American workers now take for granted—five-day work week, overtime pay, child labor bans, workplace safety rules, pensions, collective bargaining itself—was won because unions fought for them. They didn’t just bargain for wages, they changed the very structure of American life.

I am the daughter of a widowed kindergarten teacher with five kids. There were a few years when the Teachers Union was threatening a strike, and my mother was extremely nervous about what it would mean for our day-to-day finances, especially if the strike went on for months. But she supported the action because the union ensured her salary kept up with inflation, that we could afford to go to the doctor, and that she could retire with dignity.

Economist and Nobel laureate Joseph Stiglitz makes the same point in Rewriting the Rules of the American Economy.  He reminds us that the decades after World War II—when unions were at the strongest—were also the years of our fastest growth and broadest prosperity. “Every part of our economy grew,” he writes. “But the demise of labor unions has made the rich richer while leaving everyone else to flounder.” 

That is why today’s assault on labor is so dangerous. After denying any knowledge of Project 2025 on the campaign trail, Trump and his allies have embraced it wholeheartedly. At its heart is a blueprint that hands corporations the tools to bust unions in secret, retaliate against organizers, and establish sham “company unions.” Its architects want States to roll back overtime and safety protections, slash unemployment insurance, and strip away diversity and equity programs that help enforce civil rights. The rights workers once bled for are being dismantled piece by piece.

But as we said, unions have never just been about contracts. They’re about solidarity for the wellbeing of everyone who labors. When the transit workers walked, they didn’t walk alone. And when Roger Toussaint reported to jail for leading the 2005 strike, he didn’t walk alone either. The NYPD had to shut down traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge as one thousand supporters marched beside him on his way to his jail cell.

Labor Day is just a few days from now; it's a holiday Americans treat as the unofficial end of summer. But its origins tell a deeper, very American story. In May 1886, workers across the country rallied for the eight-hour workday, with hundreds of thousands marching in cities nationwide. Chicago became the epicenter. On May 4, during a rally in Haymarket Square, a bomb was thrown as police tried to break up the crowd. Seven officers and at least four civilians were killed, dozens more wounded. The bomber was never found, yet eight anarchists were charged; four were hanged, one died by suicide in jail, and three were imprisoned before being pardoned. The Haymarket Affair, and the martyrdom of those anarchists, became a watershed moment in labor history. In solidarity, workers around the world adopted May 1 as their day of protest and remembrance, and it remains Labor Day in most countries today.

On September 6, a group of Vermonters will head to Washington, DC to stand side by side with its residents who are living in a city militarized under trumped-up charges of violent crime. Just as the Haymarket anarchists were punished on false charges to send a message to labor, today’s militarization is designed to send a message to anyone who dares dissent. There is no reason to believe these protesters will be safe from harassment or even arrest. And yet they will go and join thousands of Americans to raise their voices. They know the risks, but they also know that silence is surrender.

This is what solidarity looks like.