I can remember my quest to find the perfect eighth grade graduation dress; it was six years ago, and I had taken Bart to San Fr

Caitlin Mallory

“My Low Wage Life” project

English 2, Spring 2007

Prof. Bousquet

Made in America: Garment Workers in the Bay Area

"By the time the graceful dresses and tasteful blouses are pressed and hung on mannequins in glistening windows, all the stains of suffering have been erased" (Shipler, page 77).

I can remember my quest to find the perfect eighth grade graduation dress; it was six years ago, and I had taken Bart to San Francisco's Powell Street, where I found myself in the heart of the city's shopping district. I visited all the high-end designer stores, like Jessica McClintock, and marveled at San Francisco's incredible glamour. I had no idea that not too far away, women were sewing dresses like mine, working long hours in stuffy rooms, earning perhaps two dollars for the dress that I had purchased for over one hundred. Nor did I realize that students from Berkeley High School, which I would soon attend, had organized a successful boycott against Jessica McClintock. The designer had refused to take responsibility when the local sweatshop that produced her gowns abruptly closed, denying the workers, the mothers of my Berkeley High classmates, several months pay.

I learned recently that there are apparel factories in the Bay Area that amount to sweatshops. I discovered that garment workers are barely able to survive in the Bay Area, much less purchase for their daughters the very gown that they made. This not the Bay Area in which I want to live the rest of my life. I do not want to live in a place so divided between "haves" and "have-nots," in which a few people become multimillionaires at the expense of the rest. The Bay Area that I want to live in is the one that many San Franciscans have been fighting for since the 1960's: a place where all residents live comfortably and in equality. Unfortunately, despite the progress that has been made and the tremendous efforts of many citizens, we still have a long way to go. The garment industry exemplifies the racial, ethnic, gender, and class discrimination that still exists within the Bay Area and the United States. It is up to us, citizens of the Bay Area and everyone else who wants to live in a just society, to continue the fight for human dignity. As garment worker Lin Cai Fen puts it, "Unless we fight for our human rights, we can never change our fate. But the most important thing is that we, as immigrant workers, should stand up for our human rights and link our arms with other workers, immigrants, women, poor people, minorities, the homeless, and everyone else that is fighting for a decent life. We Women must stand up now!"
(4, page 47).

The struggle must begin with knowledge; until recently, I did not realize the prevalence of sweatshops in America today. Like many others, I associated the term with child labor in China, or large garment factories of the late nineteenth century. In fact, there are sweatshops in America now, and thousands of mostly female garment workers work under dismal circumstances quite similar to those of the early 1900’s. In cities like New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco— known for their flashy, high-end fashion districts— those producing the clothes work under far less glamorous conditions. The United States Government Accounting Office defines a sweatshop as "an employer that violates more than one federal or state labor, industrial homework, occupational safety and health, workers' compensation, or industry registration law." Of the roughly 22,000 American garment shops operating in 2001, over half would have qualified as sweatshops by this definition (4). To understand the nature of the abuse and exploitation that takes place in garment factories, it is necessary first to look at the structure of the apparel industry, and the factors that have contributed to the “reemergence” of sweatshops in America since the 1970's.

The apparel industry is organized in a hierarchical system in which garment workers make up the very bottom rung, and are at the mercy of every level above them. At the top of this pyramid of power and profit sit retailers, like Nordstrom or Wal-Mart, who are one step above manufacturers, like Gap or Levi’s. Retailers will often sell their products to costumers marked up twice what they paid the manufacturers. Manufacturers profit greatly as well, by subcontracting the assembly of their clothing to small plants and factories, choosing to hire whichever can provide goods at the lowest cost and with the greatest efficiency. The subcontractors, who are in constant competition to keep costs as low as possible, directly employ garment workers. It is within these assembly plants that most abuses and wage violations occur. One can get a better sense of this hierarchy by looking at the distribution of profits in the sale of a one hundred dollar dress: the costumer pays one hundred dollars to the retailer, who makes $50 dollars profit; the manufacturer gets $35, but profits $12.50 after paying for fabric; the subcontractor earns $9, after paying the workers a total of $6 for all their labor (1, page 2).

Ironically, the pyramid of responsibility is quite the opposite of that of power and profits. Traditionally, contractors were solely responsible for the conditions under which their employees worked. Manufacturers and retailers had no legal responsibility for regulating the safety, payment, or treatment of the workers who produced their clothing line. Manufacturers claimed they had no idea what was occurring at their subcontractor’s plants, and it was not their problem anyway. The ability of manufacturers to completely dodge responsibility appears to be slowly changing as consumers have put increasing pressure on companies like Nike, known to be involved with sweatshops. Furthermore, some laws have been enacted demanding manufacturers and retailers ensure that garment workers receive their due wages (9). Nevertheless, manufacturers still hold a great deal of power by effectively setting the prices within the industry. For the sake of comparison, Tommy Hilfiger reportedly earns an annual salary of $22.4 million, while garment workers in 1999 fell below the poverty line, making on average $16,090— a figure that represents the legal wage, and does not take into account any illegal practices by employers (7, page 37). In 2002, the average annual wage of a garment worker in the Bay Area was $14,350 (3, page 7).

Sweatshops were first introduced to the garment industry during the industrial revolution of the late 1800's. Like modern day sweatshops, the workers were mostly female immigrants, who worked long hours in terrible conditions at very little pay. Many people associate the term "sweatshop" with two major events in the history of United States apparel manufacturing. The first was the 1909 strike of shirtwaist factory workers, the first major strike by female workers in America. The second was the Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire of 1911, which killed 146 garment workers; dangerous physical conditions are reported in many modern day factories. With help of unions and governmental legislation enacted by the New Deal, sweatshops began to decline in the 1940’s and the next several decades (7, page 86).

The "reemergence" of sweatshops began in the 1970's, and can be attributed, at least in part, to "new global capitalism." An important factor of global capitalism is its emphasis on world trade and competition. Governments of capitalist nations look for opportunities to increase profits by letting the free market dictate trade, with little regulation. NAFTA, the North American Free Trade Agreement, and the WTO, the World Trade Organization are some of the strategies enacted to stimulate global free trade. In addition, the restructuring of the global economy has involved "cutting government spending on health, housing, education, and nutrition programs; freezing and slashing wages, and suppressing workers' rights to organize; selling publicly owned property and assets to private interests; giving tax incentives and other forms of government "welfare" to corporations and the wealthy; removing government regulations and restrictions or corporations..." (4, page 6). Policies in the United States, since the Reagan administration, have put at great deal of the power into the hands of corporations, leaving the state out of most business dealings, simultaneously decreasing services for the nation's low wage workers.

The "flexibility" of the global capitalism is often praised for encouraging business and trade, but the benefits it provides for corporations have dire consequences for those at the bottom of the garment industry hierarchy. For example, instead of producing mass quantities of similar items in gigantic factories, a more diverse assortment of garments is being made in smaller apparel plants. This means that manufacturers can pick which garment factory it will subcontract work to based on a number of factors, including cost, efficiency, and proximity to the manufacturer. But what does this mean for garment workers? First, it leads to job insecurity, part-time, and seasonal work, as manufacturers pick and chose which plants to hire throughout the year. In addition, it makes unionization more difficult, because garment workers often must transfer from job to job. Furthermore, small factories are less highly regulated by the government, and the competition between U.S. and worldwide suppliers leads to labor violations and pathetic wages. New global capitalism has also caused a large immigration towards more industrialized countries. The apparel industry has seized upon the perfect workforce for exploitation: female immigrants, arriving in America with little proficiency in English and in desperate need of work (1, page 15).

The majority of garment workers in the United States are female immigrants from South America, East Asia, and the Caribbean (5, page 1). In a 1990 study conducted in Los Angeles, home to California’s largest apparel industry, 94 percent of garment workers were immigrants, and over 85 percent did not have United States citizenship (1, page 173). The San Francisco Bay Area has the second largest garment manufacturing industry in California, and has a predominately Chinese workforce (3, page 6). The "typical" garment worker— a female, perhaps undocumented immigrant, unable to speak English, lacking education, and likely coming from a low-income background— is particularly vulnerable to abuses from oppressive employers.

Immigrant women represent a large portion of the labor force, partly because with their husbands usually working in "unskilled jobs," unable to earn a "family wage," an additional source of income is needed to support the family (5, page 9). Says Miriam Louie, "In the Asian community, despite low wages and onerous working conditions, necessity drives many immigrant women to become bread or 'rice winners'" (5, page 5). A 1992 survey of 166 Bay Area garment workers, conducted by the Asian Immigrant Women Advocates, found that every woman interviewed had children, and twenty percent had at least four. In Oakland, California, most of the garment workers are between the ages of 45 and 54, and half have children eighteen or under. Often times their children are still living in China, which may be the only way the families can manage. Between bringing in a mere $5.60 per hour, working over sixty hours a week, and lacking childcare, leaving their children in China may not be a choice, but a necessity (3).

Immigrant workers often feel that the greatest obstacle they face is being unable to speak English; workers who do not understand English are less likely to know their rights, and more likely to be taken advantage of by employers. Said garment worker Cai Fen, “Now I'm learning English so I can be more effective in this society. Before when people yelled at me for not understanding them, I couldn't say anything. I felt just terrible. Now at least I know enough to say, "Hey, why do you help me learn?!" (4, page 46) The women are put in a bind: to learn English they must attend classes, but in order to support their families, they must work such long hours that getting to school would be nearly impossible. The community advocacy group Asian Immigrant Women Advocates has addressed this problem by offering school on Sundays, which may be the only time seamstresses have off.

Garment workers notoriously work long hours; the 2002 study of Oakland garment workers found that more than one third worked over fifty hours per week (3, page 14). Over half of sweatshop employees receive no break time and work six or more days per week, without overtime pay (5, page 9). This exhausting work schedule leaves no time for family, education, or hobbies. One worker lamented that to have hobbies you need money. Another explained, "You don't even have time to visit friends, clean your house, and cook like you're supposed to" (4, page 36). Another seamstress, Jenny Chen echoes,

"For the younger women like me, we often wish that we could just go to school and get some different kind of work. Lots of times you're not even getting paid, but you have to go in to work on Sundays. Then you've got to look at the boss's face. yuhhh! You just wish you could be doing something else. And you don't have any time to spend with your kids. I heard from my friends in San Francisco that the price is no as good as here. You go to work earlier and get out earlier, right? Here work varies a lot and you still see lights on in the shops at night. My daughter's friend's mother works in the day, comes home to feed her kids, then goes back to work at night. She's always tired” (4, page 29).

In a survey by the Asian Immigrant Women Advocates, the top three issues that the women seamstresses said they would like to see addressed immediately were health insurance, the minimum wage, and annual wage increases. Garment workers are often paid on the piece-rate basis, meaning that instead of earning an hourly salary, their income is determined by amount of tasks they complete. The rate per piece is typically very low— six cents for hemming a skirt, eight cents per belt loop (1, page 177). Piece rates are determined by garment prices that the designer or manufacturer has agreed to pay; there is little room for subcontractors to negotiate, as manufacturers can simply turn their business elsewhere (8, page 83). In addition, contractors are known to lower piece rates when workers are becoming "too productive." The belief that workers should always be paid the bare minimum is held by many employers, and amongst Americans at large, who consider it a moral law that a large gap separates the pay of a laborer with that of a businessman (1, page 180). Although California and federal law mandate that employers pay workers minimum wage and overtime, irrespective of whether or not the worker completes enough pieces to make that amount, contractors frequently evade the law. When state minimum wage is increased, employers may insist that workers increase their rate of production, leaving the piece-rate the same (8, page 79).

The piece rate system also encourages self-exploitation, because workers can to some extent control the amount of money they earn. In order to complete as many tasks as possible, workers are likely to work long hours at intense speeds (1, page 179). Many workers are reluctant to change to an hour-based salary, because they feel some sense of control over their salaries working in the piece-rate system. The piece-rate system often induces competition within the workplace, with faster workers feeling a step above the less productive. Some employers encourage this competitive atmosphere as well.
Garment worker Bo Yee explains,

"The boss' wife created a tense, competitive atmosphere between the workers. She would praise some people and downgrade others. Because of my experience, I can work faster than newer workers from China who are not as skillful. They would sacrifice their lunch and break time to try to catch up... They were getting people to exploit themselves. How disgusting! I hate this!" (4, page 50)

Most often, the workers earn less than minimum wage, and contractors take part in dozens of schemes to hide the hours worked; often the employers will alter time cards or demand their employees to work an hour before clocking in (1, page 178). Workers who perform "homework," that is, working out of their homes, make very little: in the mid-1980's, a garment worker made $2.77 per hour, putting in twelve hour days, six days a week (1, page 185). In 1990, when the minimum wage for a year was $8,840, the average garment worker in southern California made $7,200 per year (1, page 182); in the Bay Area, in 2002, the annual salary was a mere $14,350. Employers often do not pay their workers for all the work completed. Says Diego Vasquez from El Salvador, "undocumented workers are preferred because they accept prices like they are. If $5 is missing from the pay, people would rather be silent than go somewhere else. Even though they are paying cash, when 70 cents out of $41.15 is missing, we don't know why. When you leave job, the last week is never paid" (1, page 182). Seventy cents may not seem like a lot, but when you make less than three dollars an hour, every cent counts. In the Bay Area, workers for the most part report being paid by the hour, but many still do not earn the minimum wage (3, page 15). In a 1992 survey of Oakland garment workers, the average wage was $6.32 an hour, yet half reported making less than $5.75 per hour. To put these wages in perspective, consider that at the time, the U.S. poverty level for a family of four was $8.50 per hour, the living wage in Oakland was $9.95, and the mean wage in Oakland was $17.54. Despite the length of time a worker has spent in the same factory, despite their devotion and hard work, and despite the rising cost of living, garment workers rarely receive raises. The only way to make more is to work faster or longer.

As if the long hours and dismal payment weren't bad enough, garment works often do not receive medical insurance, and are denied paid holidays, sick days, and vacation time (1, page 183). The majority of workers do not get worker's compensation, and employers do not tell workers what they are entitled to. The same is true for job security: workers do not know their legal rights, and are fired without warning and for any reason, such as being "too slow" or for complaining about the piece-rate or work conditions. Women who become sick or have children are not guaranteed a job when they return (1, page 183). Even when they do have a job, workers are employed on a need basis— they put in dozens of hours a day during busy periods, and other times have no work at all (1, page 188).

Lack of health insurance is alarming, especially considering the dangerous physical conditions of garment shops and the strain that sewing hours on end places on the body. Factories are often located in high-rise commercial buildings or warehouses, but some are found in garages and other "out of view" locations (1, page 176). Fires would be disastrous because of the dangerous conditions including blocked exits, doors opening the wrong way, and uncapped gas lines. In a 1996 survey, 72 percent of all apparel factories were found to have major health and safety violations. In addition, the repetitive tasks of the job induce eyestrain, back problems, and hand injuries. Workers wear masks to prevent asthma, which can be triggered by the heavy dust and chemicals that fog the air (1, page 177). Almost every worker in a 2002 Oakland study reported problems with their workstations, uncomfortable seating being the highest concern (3, page 16). 99% of those surveyed had muscle pain, while other prevalent problems included headaches, eyesight, allergies, and swollen legs. Nearly all the women said that their pain was problematic in carrying out some of their daily activities, including work, sleeping, housework, bathing, and dressing. Yin Wu Lee testified in 2000,

"I have been sewing for nine years, since I came to America from Hong Kong in 1991. We work 10 hours a day, six to seven days a week in my factory. We commonly suffer from overwork injuries such as backaches because we are constantly hunched forward, our foot pressing the pedal and hands passing clothes through the needle on the sewing machine. I get no break time, adding to the strain on my body. We do not have health insurance in our sewing factory. Since we do not get health care, we just endure the pain and hope that it will eventually go away...” (3, page 19).

In addition to physical health problems, workers suffer from psychological abuse used by employers to dominate their employees. One worker explains,

“The bathrooms are outside on our floor. In the factory where I work almost everyone is from Ecuador. Those people work hard. And since they are very far from their land, they come and are afraid of losing their jobs, so they enslave themselves. Almost no one goes to the bathroom, they feel embarrassed. The bathroom is outside. They have to leave the factory, go to the hallway. It's a bit dangerous because anyone can enter the bathrooms" (7, pages 20-21).

Why is it that in many descriptions of sweatshops, workers cite horrendous bathroom conditions and the degrading regulation of bathroom visits? Robert Ross, author of Slaves to Fashion, provides two explanations: the first is that subcontractor are trying to promote more profits by limiting bathroom time either forcefully or by keeping restrooms in such horrible condition that people will not use them. The second, more convincing argument is that this form of abuse is really about employers holding complete control over workers. Ross explains, "the regulation of bathroom behavior, the use of foul and demeaning language, even the neglect of bathroom facilities all dehumanize and intimidate workers, especially women, and keep them feeling weak and thus without recourse. Control and degradation of the woman worker's body are part of a regime of control. To have control over a person is to exert power" (7, page 23).

Employers also may use a worker's immigration status as a source of control. Employers, who ironically are often immigrants themselves, routinely threaten to report undocumented workers to the Immigration and Naturalization Service. Another problem is that while workers pretend to be doing an undocumented worker a "favor" by hiring her, in response, the worker is made to feel obligated to comply with the boss and never speak out against him (1, page 193). Garment workers have admitted to the AIWA that they do not report true wages and hours to authorities out of fear of retribution. These fear tactics are quite successful in keeping workers silent regarding abuses and minimum-wage violations. Workers also report that their bosses shout at them and use abusive language. One worker testifies, "At my work, my boss sometimes shouts at innocent people. I think he really wishes he could hit us. We can only guess because we don't understand him... He treats us like we are animals" (1, page 190).

Oppression like this is of course intolerable anywhere, but I am especially horrified that it continues to occur in the Bay Area, a place that I always considered to a step ahead of the rest of the nation in terms of civil, immigrant, and gender rights. In the next section, I will discuss the recent history of the Bay Area garment industry. The situation appears to be changing, and hopefully some aspects are improving due to recent legislation and activism (9). In a 1982 study, Loo and Ong found that 47 percent of women who lived in Chinatown and held jobs outside the home were garment workers. By 1990, there were an estimated 30,000 Bay Area workers operating sewing machines in 478 shops registered in San Francisco, and another 150 factories throughout the East Bay.

One of the most infamous Bay Area sweatshop cases began in 1992, when Bo Yee, Fu Lee, and their co-workers were laid off without warning by the Lucky Sewing Company and denied months of wages. Upon finding that the dresses they had made for $5 sold for $175 by designer Jessica McClintock, the garment workers banded together with the Asian Immigrant Women Advocates community labor group to demonstrate against the company. In an attempt to appease the workers and settle the dispute quietly, Jessica McClintock offered a sum of money, provided that the company would not be held responsible for the missing wages. The contractors essentially blacklisted the workers by publishing the names of those who would not sign the contract. This act angered the women further. Eventually the garment workers won some of their wages back, and additionally received an educational fund and a scholarship fund for workers and their children (4, page 42). When a story about the Jessica McClintock was set to air on 60 Minutes in 1994, the program coordinators interviewed the seamstresses involved, who were originally hesitant to show their faces, telling them they would have to opportunity to speak to the American public. When the show ran, the women were muted behind the voice of the host, Morley Safer. The program then showed a White, male manufacturer, who called Jessica McClintock "a hero to every small businessman." Furthermore, as Miriam Louie, author of Sweatshop Warrior explains, "the program's 'objective reporting' divides blame equally among manufacturers, workers, and bargain shoppers” (4, page 2).

By 2002, the estimates dropped to roughly 12,000 garment workers in the San Francisco Bay Area (though some report numbers as high as 20,000), but the region still had the third largest garment industry in the nation, following Los Angeles, home to 80% of America's garment workforce, and New York (3, page 6). Between fifty and seventy five percent of manufacturers were small sweatshops, with three quarters employing less than twenty people, and almost half employing four or fewer (3, page 6). Many of these small factories resided in San Francisco, Oakland Chinatown, and "China Hill," a cheaper area outside Chinatown, where many Vietnamese, Cambodia, and Chinese immigrants reside (5, page 6). Garment workers also lived in neighboring cities including Alameda and San Leandro.

In 2005, the San Francisco Chronicle reported that the number of garment workers had decreased to 3,500.[1] Local factories were being forced to close down, as manufacturers increasingly subcontracted work to cheaper factories in other countries. The three largest garment manufacturers in San Francisco, Levi Strauss, Gap, and Esprit, now have most of their production carried out in other countries (4, page 33). This increase in offshore production was fostered by the expiration of a global system of quotas, which had placed restrictions on clothing coming in from more than one hundred member countries of the World Trade Organization, including China and India. The closure of Bay Area factories highlights the job insecurity that garment workers must endure. In addition, while many workers were laid off with the decrease in San Francisco's garment industry, most did not know that they were eligible for federal training and unemployment benefits.
The Chronicle reported that the remaining shops were located in "the South of Market district, the Mission, Potrero Hill and other industrial areas in San Francisco." These small garment shops are probably not what one would picture when hearing the word "sweatshop," but that is likely what they are. The workers reportedly earned just $357, despite working long hours, on the piece-rate system, and under poor conditions.

While many manufacturers are increasingly outsourcing their production to offshore companies, there are still exploitive garment shops in the Bay Area today. In February, 2007, the Department of Labor reported that San Francisco company "Reuben's Garment Cutting and Marking" was forced to pay $66,066 in withheld wages to 57 employees. The contractor reportedly did not record the full number of hours worked by the employees, paid them in cash on Saturdays, and denied them overtime pay.[2] In March of 2007, the Economic and Employment Enforcement Coalition visited 24 garment plants in the San Francisco area, issuing citations for "no workers' compensation, not taking required payroll deductions, not requiring proper work permits for minors and not paying proper minimum wage.[3]" Clearly, the issue of garment worker exploitation has not yet been eradicated.

While it is easy to point at the subcontractors as the "evil" wrongdoers in the garment industry, I think we must also take a closer look at the United States government and its relationship with big businesses. First, it is evident that the government is not doing enough to protect low-wage citizens; personally, I believe that the minimum wage should be a "living wage." In a nation as wealthy as America, everyone who works full time should be guaranteed a wage that can support their basic needs, so that they may pursue a life beyond struggling to survive. Something is horribly wrong when there is such a large gap between the rich and the poor. Those who argue that the rich get rich through their own capabilities and hard work and that the poor are dysfunctional and lazy should listen to the stories of the garment workers. These women are anything but lazy: they probably work longer, more tedious hours than most businessmen, and rather than being provided support or a convenient entrance into the business world, they face continuous obstacles. In addition to starting with very little money, often times having come to America to escape political troubles and poverty in their home countries, they are met with continuous discrimination, oppression, and lack of governmental support.

Despite these obstacles, many of these women are actively fighting against the tyranny of the system, banding together in ethnic, community based advocacy groups. One such group, located in Oakland’s Chinatown, is called Asian Immigrant Women Advocates. According to Miriam Louie, author of Sweatshop Warriors, a book dedicated to the leaders of such groups, "these women are the real experts about the inner workings of the global economy, labor markets, and immigrant communities— speaking to us from the bottom of the sweatshop industry pyramid. They stand steadfast as the first line of whistle-blowers and flak-catchers against corporate greed, government negligence, and racial wrongs" (4, page 3). Community groups are particularly helpful in addressing the needs of the workers. They investigate the nature of on-the-job injuries and health problems, outlining what should be done to create better conditions, they launch campaigns to win back withheld wages, like in the Jessica McClintock case, they create programs to help other immigrant women learn English, and they have translators explain to workers what rights they are entitled to.

These women are wonderful examples of community leaders, but as Louie expresses, “Listening to the women speak cannot be an act of consumerism. Seeing them fight for their right cannot be an act of voyeurism. Listening to the women means returning to the source, to the heart of what today’s struggles for justice and dignity are all about… We must ask ourselves individually and collectively what we are doing to challenge the pyramids of oppression we face” (4, page 253). I wasn’t wrong when I initially associated the term “sweatshop” with terrible working conditions in China, but I also did not have the complete picture. While we should continue to advocate for the abolition of sweatshops overseas, we also must oversee the abolition of sweatshops within our local context and fight discrimination and injustice of every kind.