Photo Credit: Joan Suarez Collection of Farah Manufacturing Strike Materials, 1972-1990
by President Heidi R. Lewis
September 2, 2024
I write this blog from Colorado Springs, CO. Stolen land—the unceded territory of the Ute Peoples, to be precise—developed with stolen and exploited labor. I do so, because as my colleague Dr. Natanya Ann Pulley points out, acknowledgements are “more than identifying or recognizing someone or something. Acknowledging is also an act of honoring, blessing, celebrating, and thanking.”
“They could keep their turkey. We didn’t need their cake. We need better conditions, better safety.”
—Farah Striker
“This is one of the things that’s held us back. We didn’t think we could do it. Until you actually get there and sit down and do it, and you find out, ‘I’m not so dumb after all!’”
—Farah Striker
“As for myself, I learned to fight!”
—Farah Striker
For better, worse, and everything in between, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t ask a lot of questions, when I didn’t have a “smart mouth,” when I didn’t talk back. I can hardly remember a time when I wasn’t fighting someone or something—righteously, in my opinion. For a long time, I was like a lost, lonely, insecure rebel mutant during the stasis point of an X-Men movie. Amazing and often dangerous powers with little to no clarity, little to no vision, little to no aim. Sometimes proud. Sometimes amused. Sometimes ashamed. Think Pyro in X2 or Angel in First Class. I desperately needed a mentor à la Magneto or Professor X. In large part, studying the world changers central to our field became and remains that. I’m not immune to intimidation. I’m certainly not immune to laziness or sloppiness. But if someone is worthy of catching my rolling flames or acidic saliva these days, they usually do. If something suffers said flames or saliva, it’s intentional way more often than not. In honor of Labor Day, I want to honor a group of world changers who inspired my fierce commitment to resistance and many others', the Chicana led and powered Farah strikers.
It could not have been easy for Sylvia M. Trevino to be the first to walk out of the Farah Manufacturing Company. She must have felt like David to William Farah’s Goliath. Farah inherited his father’s textile factories in the 1930s before founding the men’s and boy’s trousers factory that became one of the largest companies in Texas. At the time of the strike, Farah employed over 10,000 workers, mostly Chicana, across five plants in El Paso (known as the “Jeans Capital of the World” in the 1960s) and six others in San Antonio, Victoria, and New Mexico. Farah was the boss—the man—and Trevino worked for him.
It could not have been easy for Rosa Flores to walk out. When workers suffering unjust conditions began organizing a union drive to join the Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America (ACWA) in 1969, they were harassed and terminated by company leaders. She was one of the first to sign a union card and wear a pro-union button to work.
It could not have been easy for Rosa Garcia to walk out. Farah was in his early 50s and had support from a Board of Directors that included the President of El Paso Natural Gas and a University of Texas Dean. On top of that, the federally funded Cotton Growers Institute sponsored “Buy Farah” advertisements, and the U.S. Army Post Exchange bought and sold Farah pants. News media also initially sided with Farah, who told the Los Angeles Times, “If anything, we’ve been guilty of keeping some people around here too long, hoping they would straighten out. The union did us a favor by cleaning house, getting the troublemakers out. With that filth gone, the plant is more cohesive.” Garcia was only 19 years old.
It could not have been easy for Virgie Delgado to walk out. Most garment workers at Farah were only earning $1.70 per hour and averaging only $69 per week, which would be $8.64 per hour or just under $600 weekly today. And still, Farah told the New York Times, “There are two billion foreigners out there willing to work for 10 cents an hour.” He was also on the Board of Directors for First National Bank, which refused to grant loans to strikers seeking to supplement lost income. Delgado and her sisters worked at the factory to support their family, which included nine children.
It could not have been easy for Julia Aguilar to walk out. While he soon began to understand her motivations and commitments, her husband initially told her she couldn’t go on a speaking tour on the West Coast to galvanize support for the strike. Other families were also divided. Some men were striking outside after dropping their wives off at Farah for work. Some women were striking outside while their sisters walked into the factory wearing smiley face buttons that read, “I’m happy at Farah!”
It could not have been easy for Genevie Mata to walk out. In response to the strike, Farah surrounded the factory with barbed wire, cameras, armed guards, and unmuzzled attack dogs; passersby physically assaulted protestors; and police arrested over 800 strikers at Farah’s request.
Striking could not have been easy for these and so many other reasons. Imagine how many times strikers were told they couldn’t win, wouldn’t win. Imagine how many times they might have doubted themselves. It could not have been easy for Sylvia M. Trevino, Rosa Flores, Rosa Garcia, Virgie Delgado, Julia Aguilar, Genevie Mata, or any other Farah worker to strike. But they did it anyway. They refused to continue tolerating little to no benefits, nonexistent health and safety standards, unreasonable quotas, and gendered harassment. They refused to continue working at a company that had never hired a Mexican American supervisor despite Mexican Americans being 98% of the labor force on the floor. They refused to continue working at a company where no one had retired in more than 50 years of operation. We can be certain many strikers were afraid, terrified. But they did it anyway.
And while many of their former coworkers crossed the picket line and many members of their community spit on them while they protested, the Farah strikers were not alone. The Catholic Church offered headquarters space for the strikers, who had been meeting in a nearby park. The American Federation of Labor and Congress of Industrial Organizations (AFL-CIO) called for a nationwide boycott of Farah pants. The International Textile, Garment, and Leather Workers Federation called for a worldwide Farah boycott. The United Farmworkers, United Auto Workers, American Postal Workers Union, and several Central Labor Councils lent their support. Rivetex factory strikers in Cuernavaca sent messages of solidarity. Workers in Birmingham rallied in support. Farah Strike Support Committees were founded in Seattle, Portland, San Jose, Los Angeles, Chicago, Milwaukee, Madison, Detroit, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Rochester, Dorchester, Dover, Providence, New York, Elizabeth, Trenton, Philadelphia, and Baltimore.
Despite—better yet, because of—the treacherous conditions they faced, Farah strikers were also committed to being in solidarity with workers striking at other companies. They spoke with Shell company strikers in Martinez, CA. In response to the Black woman led and powered Oneita knitting mill strike, Farah strikers went to South Carolina in support, with one noting, “That’s our same struggle!” They went to Detroit to join boycotts against A&P, Safeway, and Jewel’s. They also lent their support to other relevant struggles, including protests against the police killing of 12-year-old Santos Rodriguez in Dallas, student walkouts, and slum housing protests.
¡UNIDAD PARA SIEMPRE!
Farah sales totaled $150 million in 1972 when the strike began. By the time the strike ended 50 years ago in 1974, that amount decreased to $126 million. Farah’s stock market value was $39.50 in 1972. By 1974, it decreased to $8. Four Farah companies were forced to close, and the National Labor Relations Board ruled against the company for trampling on workers and violating existing labor laws. Additionally, new union contracts included recognition of the ACWA, 55 cents an hour raises over three years, job security, seniority rights, arbitrable quotas, a company funded healthcare plan, a grievance system, striker rehires, and a four day work week in El Paso. We would be foolish—and probably racist, sexist, and elitist—not to credit Sylvia M. Trevino, Rosa Flores, Rosa Garcia, Virgie Delgado, Julia Aguilar, Genevie Mata, and every other Farah striker for that.
Yet, we need not be naïve. Many strikers resented their exclusion from ACWA negotiations with Farah, which were also rushed. Then, in the early 1980s, manufacturing conditions slanted once again toward bosses. Several companies relocated production to Mexico, the Caribbean, and Southeast Asia to cut costs. Others were replaced by sweatshops with miserable working conditions. Farah implemented massive layoffs for the next two decades, especially targeting militant organizers. And those who kept their jobs argued the ACWA contract Farah signed in 1977 was worse than the one in 1974, fostering more disillusionment with Farah and the union. Eventually, Farah collapsed.
But then came La Mujer Obrera, an El Paso based organization “dedicated to creating communities defined by women,” and El Centro del Obrero Fronterizo, an El Paso center Cecilia Rodríguez founded to support women organizing in the workplace. And the list goes on and on and on. We may not ever live to see the end of racism, sexism, workplace discrimination, or any other form of subjugation and oppression we and others face. We’ll likely spend the rest of our lives asking a lot of questions, having “smart mouths,” talking back, and righteously fighting someone or something. We may be intimidated. We may even be lazy or sloppy. We may lack clarity. We may lack a vision. We may lack aim. When we struggle with our amazing and often dangerous powers, we may be proud. We may be amused. We may be ashamed. But may we always remember that we have them. And when we’re feeling lost, lonely, and insecure, and even when we’re not, may we always remember the Chicana led and powered Farah strikers, our world changing mentors who taught us to fight…hard and always.
¡VIVA LA HUELGA!
Per my strategic plan, “Reconnect, Repair, Restore: A More Thoughtful, Transparent, and Trustworthy NWSA,” my President’s blogs are meant, in part, to generate excitement about our upcoming conference. This one is congruent with our presidential session honoring the 50th anniversary of the end of the Farah strike facilitated by outgoing Treasurer Karma Chávez and featuring Dr. Maria Cotera, Elena Herrada, Dr. Jessica Lopez Lyman, and Dr. Aimee Villarreal. Hope to see you rebels in Detroit.