How can we protect workers' rights in disaster recovery zones?
Featuring the one and only Kerry O'Brien from Resilience Force!
Hello, and welcome to Work Climate! I’m David, and since Hurricane Harvey devastated Houston in 2017 I’ve been interested in what happens as communities rebuild in the weeks, months, and years after disasters. Growing up on the Gulf Coast, hurricanes were common before Harvey, of course. I remember new kids coming to my elementary school after Katrina, seemingly endless traffic jams en route to Austin to avoid storms, and sad stories of people returning to destroyed homes. Probably most impactful on me, though, was witnessing the effects of Winter Storm Uri in February 2021, which hobbled Texas’ grid and killed over 200 people. As stores ran out of water and food, mutual aid groups stepped up and distributed hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of critical supplies, in the midst of the pandemic.
There’s a lot to love about Houston.
Relying on the kindness of neighbors has its limits, though. There have already been 25 billion-dollar-plus disasters in the United States in 2023, and that number will surely balloon in future years. The Federal Emergency Management Agency is, as a result, busier than ever, administering tens of billions of dollars in grants to state and local governments annually to assist with cleanup, repair, and reconstruction efforts. But how much of that trickles down through layers of agencies and contractors to the workers who are actually bringing communities back to life? Enter Resilience Force.
This nonprofit only got started a few years ago, but it has already done an incredible job in building the case that our nation’s “resilience workers” should be recognized, respected, and properly protected as a “stable, well-paid, million-strong corps that can do year-round climate adaptation and preparation, as well as rebuild after storms.” Resilience Force’s advocacy has led to proposed congressional legislation; they have helped many migrant workers who routinely travel to disaster recovery zones recover stolen wages and remedy other workplace abuses; and one of their organizing campaigns in Florida was even featured in Episode 4 of Immigration Nation on Netflix – a tough but worthwhile watch. In one of their more questionable tactical moves, however, Resilience Force also hired me as an intern this summer.
The organization was founded by Saket Soni, a labor organizer deeply connected to the South, where most of Resilience Force’s efforts take place. Saket wrote a book – The Great Escape – about a long and inspiring campaign he led alongside trafficked Indian workers, brought under false pretenses to Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi following Katrina’s devastation. I highly recommend the book as both a gripping work of nonfiction and political theory – it contains, for instance, what is probably the only account of providing access to “self-love” as an organizing tactic; a touching story, really.
Today, Saket leads a brilliant team of organizers, lawyers, and policy advocates, including Kerry O’Brien, who has fought for decades for workers’ and immigrants’ rights. Kerry was my supervisor and kindly agreed to field a few questions about her work with Resilience Force, which is amazing. So, at the risk of making it sound like this is a professional operation in any way, let me start out by stating: This interview has been lightly edited for clarity.
DC: What are the advantages of recognizing resilience workers as a distinct workforce?
KO: When we first go into a disaster area, I look at two groups of workers who are treated really well in terms of physical comfort and safety: Utility workers and the National Guard. Re-establishing the power grid is very important, so we act accordingly: Utility workers are brought in from around the country, and the coordination and wages are very good so that problem can be solved quickly by skilled people. In the case of the National Guard, the military builds a little base in the disaster area with tents and water and electricity. This shows the federal government can give its workers what they need when it puts its mind to it. But when it comes to crews that come to do debris removal, Operation Blue Roof to protect properties from further rain damage, and basic remediation like removing drywall before it molds – essential work to prevent further losses of life, property, and community – they aren’t provided with the same resources. So, we think that federal recognition of resilience workers would make a huge difference in terms of protecting their wages, housing conditions, and safety. It would be money well spent and keep impacted communities safer as well.
*This report lays out many of the specifics of how Resilience Force would like to achieve the dream laid out above, via various federal and state interventions.
The cases you work on – and great reporting – show how resilience workers risk immigration consequences, exploitation, and retaliation every time they go to work in a recovery zone. However, such abuses are unfortunately widespread in construction and other low-wage industries, even outside of the context of disasters. To what extent, then, are Resilience Force's cases distinct from those that other workers' rights orgs might take on?
Right, this is all basically the same stuff: You have tiered contracting structures, so the thinly capitalized contractors at the bottom who directly hire the workers often commit wage theft, cut corners on safety, and sometimes threaten their employees with deportation or calling the police. However, I think things are made worse in disaster recovery zones, both because those are inherently unsafe places, and they’re usually in the South, where there are fewer protections.
One might think that having substantial amounts of federal money attached to reconstruction projects would mean that workers get paid more. Is that what you see?
Our “anecdata” shows that resilience work is still a $12-15 per hour kind of job, which is what most people can make closer to home. Of course, for many women, it often represents a bump over what they’re making in service jobs, but for many men the wages appear to be generally the same. But the volume of work is still attractive to resilience workers, especially if they can leave their families for a month and work 12 hours per day, 6 days per week, with overtime. When you consider the stress of travel, though, the uncertainty of what the conditions are going to be, and the amount of money floating around these projects, there’s definitely room for wages to be much higher.
I was impressed by the level of integration and communication between Resilience Force's organizing and legal teams. How do you think about aligning these modes of advocacy?
This is something I have been extremely passionate about ever since I met organizers early in my career, because they can make an impact so much bigger than the litigation. So I’ve tried to always to work with organizers or bring organizers into the places I’ve worked. Two sets of skills are better than one – organizing is enhanced by law, and vice-versa. Lawyers can help understand what sorts of legal claims can help change the behavior of someone in power, and organizers bring people together and create public pressure and public opinion change, which can help move a legal theory forward. The cherry on top is that this model also helps workers exercise collective action, and they bring that experience into their next jobs. They learn how much better it is than going alone, so our team can multiply our impact and help change things for more people; litigation can very rarely accomplish that alone.
Well said and thank you again, Kerry! Write more in a couple weeks :)
Giving a name and legal/policy framework to something that is already a vital reality—the corps of resilience workers—is an inspired and practical project. An exemplary case of seeing and doing.