Dressed in a white-and-blue pinstripe uniform and armed with a portable speaker,
Enrique Rosas started his eight-hour shift, which would last until 2 a.m.
I followed Rosas, a senior UCLA custodian, through Knudsen Hall as he moved from bathroom to bathroom. He quickly sprayed down the two stalls and the sinks in the women’s room with soapy water, glossing over them again with a damp rag. The surfaces were left shining as the smell of chemicals filled the air before we moved on to the men’s room.
Rosas balances three jobs: cleaning bathrooms at UCLA, working at a print shop and raising his 11-year-old daughter as a single father.
After he gets off his shift, he sleeps for three hours before he has to drive his daughter to school. Then it’s off to his second job, and, after that, he has a couple of hours to answer his daughter’s questions – some about homework and some about why he’s not around at night.
By 6 p.m., he’s at the university again.
Despite the near-constant exhaustion, Rosas says he loves working for UCLA.
“I’m humbled to scrub toilets,” he said. “Service workers are the backbone of this institution.”
But Rosas said every day is a struggle – the custodians are understaffed, underpaid and overworked.
Rosas is a fierce leader of the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees Local 3299 union, which represents over 27,000 workers throughout the University of California system. Union members can range from dining hall workers to care specialists at the hospitals.
Union strikes have rocked the UCLA campus for over two years. On six different occasions, service workers and patient-care technicians employed by the university have gone on strike, bringing UCLA to a virtual standstill.
High-profile figures, like actress Mayim Bialik and U.S. Rep. Ted Lieu, canceled their graduation appearances in solidarity with the union. The December Democratic presidential debate was moved from Royce Hall to Loyola Marymount University. Presidential candidate Sen. Bernie Sanders even spoke at a union rally in March 2019.
I remember the first time I encountered lines of people marching up Janss Steps, chanting loudly and carrying signs proclaiming injustice. In all caps and bright green, each sign read, “On strike for unfair labor practice.” Beyond catching the attention of students, the protesters also wanted to catch the attention of the UC administration.
On strike days, students were met with closed dining halls. Only four of the usual eight dining options were available, serving limited menus of food that could be easily prepared and wouldn’t perish quickly. As a sort of apology in advance, the dining halls each served a “best of the best” menu the previous night.
Many students opted to trade in a swipe for a meal voucher at an on-campus restaurant. I watched how quickly the luxuries of UCLA had been traded in for burgers from Carl’s Jr.
While the strikes inconvenience students living in the dorms, it’s easy to forget the workers behind this fight.
As we made our way down the hall, his cart leading the way, Rosas meticulously checked and emptied every trash can as he described the night ahead.
This night, like most nights, he’d be “swinging,” which meant that, after his shift in Knudsen, he had to cover a shift in Schoenberg Hall as well. Although he is technically only responsible for cleaning Knudsen, his bosses regularly ask him to clean another building because of understaffing, he said.
On a normal night, Rosas is paid to clean eight bathrooms. When he swings, he is responsible for 12 or more, with no additional compensation.
Fitting two men’s workloads into a single eight-hour shift takes its toll on his body, Rosas said. Continuously bending down to pick up trash and wipe down toilets led to a lower back injury that forced him to take time off work.
This creates a cycle, Rosas said, of injured employees missing their shifts, other employees picking up the workload and more workers becoming injured.
“Work smarter, not harder,” Rosas said his bosses tell him.
I asked him what would happen if he didn’t get the work done.
“You have to get it done,” he said.
A system of punishment is in place for those who don’t complete the work, he said. First, there’s a verbal warning. Next time, you get written up. A paper trail of negative evaluations can leave employees feeling like they have targets on their backs.
Rosas puffed out his chest and pressed his face right up to mine. That’s what it feels like when management “keeps an eye on you,” he said.
He has even seen matters escalate to the point of suspension.
Rosas said the UC never wanted to bargain, or even listen and acknowledge there was a problem. He wanted a seat at the table, but felt like the UC was walking away every time he got close.
“You start to feel like a second-class citizen,” he said. “I work for this great university, but I’m not considered part of the family here at UCLA.”
After more than two years, the union finally secured its contract.
The strikes were meant to demand fair wages, guaranteed pay increases every year and additional health benefits. UC administration has come under fire in recent years – those making over $500,000 per year saw a salary increase of 14% from 2014 to 2015, and the size of administration has grown by over 60% in the last decade alone. To AFSCME Local 3299 members, it seems like all the money is going to management, while service workers are suffering, Rosas said.
Additionally, AFSCME Local 3299 workers were pursuing an end to subcontracting, which poses a threat to union members as the university fills jobs with outsourced private workers who are paid less and do not receive health benefits.
Job security issues are nothing new to the UCLA campus – AFSCME Local 3299 protests are the result of over 20 years of unresolved negotiations between the union and the UC. Although students have complained about the inconveniences the protests introduce, such as loud noises disrupting their sleep and hair in uncleaned showers, service employees at UCLA have been enduring less than ideal work conditions for decades.
On Jan. 21, AFSCME Local 3299 and the UC finally reached a tentative four-year agreement that addressed long-standing issues including low wages and outsourcing.
Still, Rosas said there’s more work to be done.
Rosas has also been working to pass Assembly Constitutional Amendment 14, which would discourage the UC from hiring contract workers.
In 2019, Rosas went to Sacramento to support the legislation and even met Gov. Gavin Newsom to discuss the bill, although it ended up losing by four votes. Rosas said he and his fellow AFSCME Local 3299 board members are working hard to get the bill reintroduced at the state capital in 2022.
Once Rosas and I reached the men’s room, he repeated the same cleaning routine, spraying down all the surfaces and then following up with a cloth. By this time, the music had been switched off, so we filled the silence with conversation about our personal backgrounds: the families we love and our aspirations.
Born and raised in East Los Angeles, Rosas is the proud son of Mexican immigrants, and a first-generation college student. He graduated from San Diego State University in 2000 with a degree in graphic design.
He said his strong work ethic comes from his parents, who used toys to instill the value of hard work in him at a young age.
“We earned a toy a month,” he said. “When you’re a kid, a toy is everything – so you made sure to really work for it.”
Rosas was inspired to pursue graphic design because of his father. However, he encountered difficulties establishing a stable art career following graduation. After working as an independent inspector at an insurance company, he found himself applying to UCLA as a custodian.
“I’d heard it was a good job,” he said.
It took two and a half years, but eventually Rosas was hired to work the night shift, and he’s now in the middle of his fifth year at UCLA. In that time, he’s risen up the ranks of AFSCME Local 3299 and now serves on the executive board, political board and immigration board, through which he represents his fellow workers.
Rosas acts as a liaison between his colleagues and the union, and he emphasized the importance of making sure his fellow employees know their rights. Spanish-speaking employees often go to him for help with issues such as disciplinary action from management or securing workers’ compensation.
All this time, he said he has never stopped making art, taking on freelance graphic design jobs in his spare time.
Rosas’ face lit up with a smile the entire time he talked about his union’s role securing the historic contract.
“We had an uphill fight with two flat tires,” Rosas said. “But I am so proud to be a part of AFSCME (Local) 3299. We got 99% of our contract.”
The fight was personal, and it truly was a family matter, he said. Not only is the union its own type of family, he said, but Rosas even brought his daughter to the strike line to protest alongside his fellow workers.
Almost an hour had passed and my talk with Rosas was coming to an end.
While we were saying our goodbyes, the sound of metal clanging interrupted us. I moved to the side, assuming my backpack was hitting a stall door.
“That’s not you,” he said, and then pointed upward. “It’s the pipes. Knudsen is 80 years old. First time I was down here, I thought it was a ghost.”
Rosas let out a laugh as he touched his forehead, chest and shoulders, making the sign of the cross for emphasis.
Then he shook my hand with both of his, looked me in the eyes and sent me on my way. He would be cleaning bathrooms for another seven hours.