Our “ethical” coffee company laid us all off
Dylan – Los Angeles, CA
For the past five years, I have been working for a popular, Portland-based, specialty coffee company. I had managed to survive and maintain employment despite layoffs, injuries, demotions, and various role changes. Until recently, I was one of the longest tenured members in the entire LA market.
When the COVID-19 crisis began in California, my primary role with the company was as a delivery driver. I would make anywhere between 6 and 25 stops per day, including cafes, office buildings, restaurants and other businesses. The day a state of emergency was declared, I went to my managers and requested sanitization gear for all of the drivers. They provided what they could, but by that time there was already a shortage of hand sanitizer and disinfectant wipes. We continued to work.
Shortly after that, restaurants and bars were ordered to close. The number of accounts I had on my routes immediately dropped to one or two stops. The volume of coffee roasted and packaged began to decline. I knew we were in trouble.
Despite the order from the Mayor, the company decided to keep the cafes open and required all of the baristas to report to work. Many of the baristas, fearing for their own safety, expressed that they would feel safer if the cafes were closed. Through public shaming on the company’s social media accounts and the threat of a walkout in one of the Portland cafes, management decided to close the cafes and give the baristas two weeks paid leave for self-isolation.
That night I messaged all of my coworkers in the production department and we decided that the next morning we would meet and discuss our concerns, what precautions we needed to take, and what action we needed from the company.
The next morning, all of us met. We quickly learned that we all felt similarly about how the company was handling things. We were all scared, none of us felt safe to be at work and we did not feel like the company had our health and safety in mind. We decided to communicate our concerns to our manager. We requested that first, the company close all of production in every market in order to protect the workers from the virus. On top of that we requested paid leave for the duration of the crisis and assurance that we would have our jobs at the end of it all. Our manager promised us he would take our concerns to management in Portland, but we decided to send an email with the same message to everyone in the company. I was confident at least some of these demands could be met because the company had recently been acquired by a multinational conglomerate worth at least $19 billion. I drafted a letter, shared it with everyone in the department, and upon their approval, sent it out.
The next day, it was business as usual at work. Nothing had changed, but that afternoon we received a message from the president of the company telling us that none of our demands could be met. If we did not continue to work, the company could not pay us and they could not provide our healthcare benefits. The feeling was that we were being told to “shut up and get back to work.”
I worked the next day and the mood was very dark. It was uncomfortable and everyone was unsure of what our futures held. The following day, Friday, March 19th, I used a sick day and stayed home to be responsible and avoid unnecessary contact. That afternoon I received a message from my boss with an invite to a conference call with management from Portland with an update relating to operations in Los Angeles. Once I logged on to the conference call, it was quickly explained to us that the company would be “pausing” production and roasting in LA for the following week, and paying us for our normal hours. I felt like this was a very bad sign.
In all honesty, the time away from work gave me some peace of mind that I desperately needed. I hadn’t realized how much stress and anxiety the situation had been causing until I had some control over my environment. I was under no illusions that our employment with the company was likely hanging by a thread. If they could “pause” operations in LA and the markets in Portland and New York could cover the company’s needs for that week, I was positive they would not open production in LA again.
My fears were confirmed on Monday, March 30th. In another conference call, the head of operations in Portland announced that the company would be shutting down all production and roasting in Los Angeles. They clearly expressed that they had “no plans” to open again, even after the crisis ends.
My coworkers and I are now without income and without our health insurance as the world prepares to deal with the biggest public health and economic crisis in a century.
Understanding the neoliberal principles on which companies like this operate, I was not surprised. I was, however, disgusted with the level of brazen hypocrisy demonstrated by those who run this organization. The entire time I worked there, they referred to the employees as family. At every opportunity, they patted themselves on the back for their “ethical” business practices with global coffee producers. I knew it was all a lie, perpetrated with the dual goal of fostering a positive public image and self-congratulation. When push came to shove, the company executives threw the workers to the wolves in order to save their own skins.
Despite our attempt at organizing being ultimately unsuccessful, I felt energized by the experience. Everyone in our department will now have that example to fall back on and hopefully, they will draw from that wherever they end up working next. Before this crisis began, I was already becoming more politically active. I had been volunteering with the Bernie Sanders campaign and had been talking to members of Socialist Alternative and other left-leaning political groups. I understand now more than ever that the only way we can build a better world for workers is by organizing and using collective action to make our voices heard as one.
