One of my favorite books on politics that I’m currently re-reading is Star Parker’s “Uncle Sam’s Plantation: How Big Government Enslaves America’s Poor and What We Can Do About It.”
Written several years ago by Parker, an African-American and proud Californian, the book is more relevant today than ever before. In it, she shares her story of struggle and suggests that even when it appears that government intends to help the people, it is in fact big government that keeps the poor enslaved and bankrupts America in the process.
If Star Parker’s “Plantation” describes the U.S. Welfare system, then it only seems fitting that “The Color Purple” aptly describes the tens of thousands of state workers enslaved by the dysfunctional family that is the SEIU in California.
With its vast land, rolling hills, and fertile crops, California plays the setting of the vast plantation.
Union bosses tell their rank and file members when to work, when to take off, when to relieve themselves (no joke), when to protest, and how loud to be at those protests. Union members work the field (aka California) while the Union bosses line their coffers. All the while, members hand over their dues (a “share of their crop” = sharecroppers) and subsequently hand over the control of their future to someone other than themselves. They exist in the constant state of having someone else completely and absolutely control their destiny.
I often wonder, what happened to the soul of the people in the infamous purple shirts? Somewhere along the line, did they simply give up hope that they could find a job that fulfilled their heart’s desire and their purpose in the world? To be sure, there are some who love their jobs and there are certainly jobs that are critical to the operation of the State; but by and large it seems that most of the purple shirts are in their position or out protesting because someone paid for them to be there. When compared to the American spirit of an all-voluntary Tea Party, well, there is nearly no comparison. It is as if the soul left the body of State worker a long time ago, and all that remained behind was a purple carcass.
Any human being can see that the SEIU and other Unions are destroying the State. The majority of them enjoy salaries that far outpace the private sector, especially during a time of great economic recession when they are lucky even to have a job. They possess Pensions that are absolutely unsustainable. Yet they keep gorging themselves at California’s expense. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying, or is truly living in the last century.
So, what’s the solution?
Just as Star Parker suggests in “Uncle Sam’s Plantation” that initiative, faith, and personal responsibility can help free an individual from the bonds of poverty, the same applies to the SEIU. With a little innovation, teamwork, and personal pride, the rank and file members of the SEIU could break the stranglehold that the Union bosses have over their rank and file members. For example, why won’t members tell their bosses they’d agree to a one-year moratorium on salary increases while the state gets back on its feet, or consider requiring new employees to join a defined contribution retirement plan that is similar to a 401(k) plan? That doesn’t seem to be cruel and unusual punishment.
SEIU members would be wise to gain some sense of pride in their State, insomuch as to take a stand and come to the realization it is they who are running the State into the ground. To sit idly by as the state crumbles, to not raise a hand in order to come to the aid of California, is to be complicit in the enslavement of themselves and worse, their fellow statesmen.
It is high time the SEIU rank and file got off the Plantation. It’s time they stood up to the Master and ask their leaders to come to the table with solutions, rather than continuing to be part of the problem. It’s time to disrobe the purple shirt and wrap themselves in the Bear Flag with their fellow brothers and sisters who are suffering. We are one State. And the fact is, we either make it through this together, or we all will die on the vine.