Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/1359892
13 S P R I N G Q 1 I S S U E G E T T I N G O R G A N I Z E D i n g l o n g h o u rs a t wa ge s we l l b e l ow industry standards. And, of course, in t h e m i d s t o f a n u n p r e c e d e n t e d health crisis, they weren't receiving any contributions towards Motion Picture Industry health coverage. The remaining schedule in that first season didn't bode well for our leverage demanding a union contract, but the crew decided and pledged to one an- other that they would unionize early in the second season in the event that the show was renewed. It did get renewed, and, in the first week of January, the day before the first episode of the second season was to air, the IATSE notified the company that its crew demanded union recognition. When the company didn't immediately grant recognition, the crew went on strike. We usually say that a crew "goes out" on strike, or that they "walk off" a job. But those spatial terms don't quite fit when the strikers don't, in fact, go anywhere. And of course there was no picket line, as there was literally no worksite to picket. In the absence of traditional modes of ac- tion — workers physically accompanying one another away from the workplace and physically patrolling the workplace's perimeter to discourage would-be scabs — intra-crew communication became all the more crucial. Folks had to keep in contact to be confident that they stood together, even while physically apart, and to know that the show couldn't go on without them. Ultimately, though, it didn't matter if the crew members were on a picket line or on their living room couches. What mattered is that they were acting in concert and their work wasn't getting done. The network recognized that the crew's action jeopardized the employer's ability to deliver a hit show in time for scheduled air dates. Two days after the strike began, we had an agreement to return everyone to work under a union contract. As a result, the ten editors and assistant editors saw increases to their base pay ranging from 50% to 70%, plus vacation pay, holiday pay, and, of course, MPI health and retirement benefits. It was our Guild's first strike conducted entirely over Zoom — likely among the first of such strikes for any union — and it scored a huge pay-off for the crew. But organizing wins don't necessarily involve work stoppages. A case in point: only a few weeks after the "Unfiltered" strike, we won union recognition for a n at i o n -w i d e g ro u p o f 50 e d i to r i a l employees working for the animation studio Titmouse, Inc., a prolif ic pro- d u c e r o f a d u l t - o r i e n t e d a n i m a t e d programming, including such titles as "Big Mouth" for Netflix. The animation sector of our industry, already experiencing boom times before the pandemic, was quick to embrace remote work. Without physical produc- tion crews, physical sets, and on-camera talent, retooling animation for working from home was relatively easy. When s ta y - a t - h o m e o rd e r s b ro u g h t a l l o f live-action production to a complete stand-still, animation only began picking up the pace. The Titmouse organizing-from-home effort faced challenges that wouldn't have pertained to organizing at a tra- ditional worksite. There was no water cooler at which coworkers could meet and establish connections. There were no after-work happy hours at which they could casually share stories about workplace concerns. Some of the Tit- mouse employees had been working at the company for years, but many others only began there more recently and had never had the opportunity to meet any of their coworkers in person. Text messages, emails, and meetings via vid- eoconference had to suffice for building a community and consensus capable of effecting change at their employer. But the Titmouse editorial crew did that work of building solidarity, culmi- nating in an overwhelming majority of SEE PAGE 53 Nickelodeon's "Unfiltered." P H O T O S : M A R T I N C O H E N