We Need a Worker’s Revolution

On Monday of this week, I was sitting in a conference room at work when I began to feel ill. My throat became itchy, and I could tell an illness was coming on. I powered through, like any good employee would, and went to work on Tuesday, masked up and hopped up on ample amounts of DayQuil. It was obvious to anyone that I was under the weather—the coughing, the dark circles under my eyes and, of course, the runny nose. By Wednesday, I discovered that influenza A had taken hold of me. There has been plenty of time to reflect, think, and rest—the latter being something I’ve never been particularly good at.

In this country, much of our identities center around work, which is probably unhealthy in the long run. However, after spending time in several foreign countries and observing their cultures, our obsession with work seems to be both good and bad. I consider myself a hard worker and don’t mind working most days. A large part of my identity at work has revolved around ensuring that workers have rights and are treated fairly. Unfortunately, this is not common unless you’re a part of a labor union. It seems we’ve reached a point in society where our lives are so consumed by work that it’s coming at the expense of empathy and care for one another. While I recognize that our society values self-determination rather than collectivism, I believe we’ve strayed too far down one path.

We are so enamored with work and consumed by the hustle of our own lives that we’re allowing billionaires and corporations to seize control of our country. We see this every day when the Ohio legislature is in session, passing harmful legislation that disproportionately affects anyone who isn’t a white man making more than $250,000 a year. Just this week, the richest man in the world, Elon Musk, seems to have seized control of the federal government, acting as a sort of shadow president to Donald Trump. For a country founded on revolution, it’s disheartening to see the USA slowly drifting toward oligarchy—a society controlled by a few rich men and the corporations they either run or are beholden to.

I was raised in Cincinnati, Ohio, but spent much of my life in eastern Kentucky and southern West Virginia with my imperfect father—a man with a slight drinking problem but who instilled in me the importance of workers’ rights and solidarity, sharing stories like the Battle of Blair Mountain. Eastern Kentucky and southern West Virginia were once strongholds for labor movements and had historically supported the Democratic Party. Of course, once the coal ran out, many working-class people moved away from Appalachia. The region now serves as a stark example of what happens when labor unions lose power, and corporations extract all the natural resources without reinvesting in the people or infrastructure. Much like areas in Africa, where European colonists exploited natural resources while neglecting the people, Appalachia’s decline is a tragic tale. It sickens me that corporations extracted vast wealth from the region and left once the profits dried up. It certainly feels like we are living in late-stage capitalism, where everything seems broken, and I personally struggle to see a way forward. When will things get better for regular, everyday people? Perhaps four more years of billionaire rule will open the eyes of the American public to the fact that the wealthy only look out for themselves, not for anyone else. We’ve reached a point where maximizing profits trumps everything else—even the progress of our country and its people. Progress moves at a snail’s pace in this country, and as a progressive, that drives me crazy.

The maddening part is that our country has already endured periods of wealthy elites exploiting the working class. The Gilded Age, which spanned from the 1870s to the 1890s, demonstrated that material excess and political corruption were disastrous for everyday Americans. This was also a time of massive immigration to the United States, where many newcomers were exploited—much like the waves of migrants coming from Latin America today. During this period, the inequality gap between the rich and poor skyrocketed. The Progressive Era followed the Gilded Age, something I hope and pray might come to fruition in modern-day America.

So, where do we go from here? We need a worker’s revolution—something often advocated by politicians like Bernie Sanders. We cannot continue to be divided by dog whistles and distractions like identity politics. Labor unions are a vital means of ensuring that all workers are treated equally and fairly—something the corporate class detests. On the surface, corporations briefly embraced DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) policies, even though these policies go against everything capitalism and our profit-driven corporate sector stand for. Labor unions are the answer to true equality and equity, which is why they’ve been under attack since Reagan’s presidency. Labor unions work to improve wages and the quality of life for all their members, regardless of religion, race, gender, or sexual orientation. I will continue to fight for this cause, working within the labor movement, even as there is a concerted effort against the working class. I hope one day the tide will turn, and we will enter a new Progressive Era that rejects the corporate class and their harmful ideologies.

There are cracks starting to show in our hyper-capitalist society. We saw this with the death of UnitedHealth CEO Brian Thompson. The healthcare industry is a prime example of why capitalism needs serious checks and balances, as well as strong regulation. Luigi Mangione allegedly gunned down a corporate healthcare CEO, and the masses cheered. Mangione has been hailed as a folk hero among the working class, which should send a chill through the corporate elites. Historically speaking, violent revolts have often been catalysts for widespread societal change—examples include the French Revolution, the Haitian Revolution, the Cuban Revolution, and the Mau Mau Rebellion in Kenya. These are just a few examples, but revolution has long been a response when the working class becomes fed up and has exhausted all other options.

For everyone’s sake, let’s hope a worker’s revolution will be less violent. Workers must band together and demand fair treatment and pay from the corporate class, because they certainly won’t give it to us out of the kindness of their hearts. The numbers are on the side of the working class, not the billionaires who hoard their wealth. Unfortunately, we must remember that the history of our country and the world has often been violent. Tyler Childers’ song Long Violent History is worth a listen to understand the Appalachian perspective on violence and revolution. I also recommend listening to Childers’ explanation of why he wrote the song in response to the 2020 Summer of Unrest. The bottom line is, there is historical context for what’s happening in modern-day America. Working-class people can only be pushed aside for so long. In the meantime, we must continue to organize and hold the corporate class accountable. Until next time, friends.

Via Photographer Richard Hedrick