PATRICK SYNAN

A Spectrum of Causes Displayed at the 2022 May Day Rally

May 2, 2022

Of the roughly 200 people at the May Day rally in East Boston, half were dressed in lemon yellow or lime green. At first glance, the crowd looked like it was saturated with security guards. But the vibrant t-shirts turned out to belong to the New England Regional Council of Carpenters and La Colaborativa, the latter of which co-sponsored the event, the former probably associated with the MA Coalition for Occupational Safety and Health (COSH), another cosponsor.

Most of the people in East Boston’s Central Square had marched from Chelsea City Hall to call for workers’ rights. Across the harbor, in downtown Boston, community organizations and nonprofits gathered ostensibly for the same purpose, although invitations to the two rallies bore notable differences in tone. Whereas the downtown rally sought to “celebrate the strikes of millions of farmers and workers of India … the victory of striking MNA nurses in Worcester, MA and the union organizing victory of warehouse workers at Amazon in Staten Island, NY,” the Chelsea/East Boston rally was promoted with language like, “the struggles of immigrant workers continue.” The subtle tension between celebrating victories and ongoing struggle mirrors Boston’s socioeconomic and geographical divides. It is one of many illuminating examples of how May Day’s significance is customized by its celebrators.

East Boston is the latest neighborhood in the city to succumb to the wave of gentrification that began around 2012. While rents have risen sharply in the area and dozens of major development projects are underway, Eastie remains home to thousands of workers in the city’s service sector. Those who have been priced out of Boston have relocated to nearby cities like Everett and Chelsea. These are the workers represented by those in attendance at East Boston’s May Day rally. Beyond the chanting in unison and identical t-shirts are thousands of unique struggles.

One of the most compelling stories told on the small stage in Central Square came from a middle aged woman named Yanis. Speaking in Spanish and English and fighting back tears, she told the crowd about a Guatemalan landscaper named José who suffered a heart attack on the job. The other members of his crew were afraid to call 9-11 because they were undocumented and suspected their call might alert the authorities to their presence in the US. Instead, they left him anonymously at a hospital where he was pronounced dead. With no information to determine his identity, the hospital was prepared to send his corpse to Lawrence, where unidentified bodies were disposed of. Fortunately, through Yanis’ efforts and connections at La Colaborativa, Jose’s family was able to identify him before it was too late. Heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time, anecdotes of this kind generate a clearer understanding of “the struggles of immigrant workers.” 

East Boston and Chelsea are cities with major immigrant populations, primarily from El Salvador and Colombia, but increasingly from Honduras and Guatemala. The demographics of the area mean that any discourse here on workers’ rights inevitably finds itself entwined with questions of immigrants’ rights. For some, these questions force a critical view of governments abroad and their relationship to US aid. 

Denise, a Swiss activist, stood on the fringes of the crowd with a sign that read “No US money to support the Bukele dictatorship.” She represents a DC-based organization called CISPES, Committee in Solidarity with the People of El Salvador. She says she visits the country regularly to identify ways she can support the labor struggle from within the US. 

“People always say to me, ‘you need [to] change American policy.’ Right now this country gives money to Bukele and he [is] not even letting people go to protests of Primero de Mayo.” 

Ironically (or so it would seem), Denise said nearly a dozen ralliers from El Salvador approached her to express their support for Bukele. “Que los maten a todos,” (kill them all) said one young man named Wilmer. He’s referring to the month long state of exception imposed by Bukele’s government in response to the escalation of the murder rate. Since the end of March, Salvadoran police and military members have been rounding up anyone suspected of gang activity, causing worldwide concern over the state of human rights in the country.

To Wilmer, a 21-year-old who left Metapan at 16 with his mother to escape extortion, the crackdown is necessary. “Either way, there are no rights,” he says. “At least this way, the problem gets solved.” In his view, the freedom of assembly in the US and its restriction in El Salvador do not illustrate a double standard, but an order of importance. When public safety is dependable, public demonstrations are welcome. On the other hand, when violence is out of control protests can wait. 

Denise’s organization, CISPES, paints a more complex picture. According to press releases leading up to May Day, labor leaders and union organizers sought to draw attention to economic and human rights issues like the privatization of water, which threatens the survival of the nation’s rural poor. The World Water Day protests at the end of March anticipated the enactment of the Water Resources Law. These protests were followed days later by one of the largest crackdowns on criminal violence El Salvador has ever seen. And the repression shows no signs of easing. 

Behind the stage at Central Square were pallets of canned goods, dry goods, and prepared meals. Throughout the rally, La Colaborativa’s mobile food bank served a steady line about a hundred long, which zigzagged down the sidewalk all the way to Border St. No one in this crowd sported a neon t-shirt, and few spent any time in front of the stage before or after picking up their food. Hardly anyone paid attention to the demonstration just a few feet away. Although both were run by the same organization, the two gatherings were visibly distinct, almost a tableau of the whole event, an organizing effort where differences shone through as much as the common cause. 

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