For years, bus drivers and riders here have looked at each other
across the fare box with suspicion and distrust. Riders have been
told by the Metropolitan Transit Authority that drivers' salaries
were behind the pressure to raise fares. Drivers heard that the
only way to keep their jobs secure and make a living was to stick
it to riders at the fare box.
Los Angeles bus drivers rally
outside the Metropolitan Transit
But when a 32-day bus drivers' strike ended on October 17, its
most remarkable achievement was the new alliance drivers and riders
forged against the MTA. That alliance not only was responsible for
winning the strike, but it marks a new shift emerging in the city's
balance of power.
Los Angeles bus riders are the base of the city's new economy.
Overwhelmingly immigrants from Mexico and Central America, riders
are the room cleaners in downtown luxury hotels, seamstresses from
the garment sweatshops, day laborers who get jobs on the street
corner, domestics riding to work in Beverly Hills mansions and janitors
taking the late-night run home from cleaning the city's sparkling
glass office towers. They are the city's poor, its newest residents.
A majority of the drivers, on the other hand, are African-Americans.
Over the past two decades, thousands of blacks watched their jobs
disappear as L.A. steel, auto and tire plants closed. Driving a
bus is one of the few secure blue-collar jobs left, carrying union
benefits and a salary high enough to allow a family to buy a home.
But drivers fought an uphill struggle to defend those wages and
conditions. As one picketer said, "There's a lot of resentment out
there against people of color, especially women, making $50,000
The city's changing economy has pitted these two sections of the
work force against each other. Its political structure is rife with
elected officials who exploit the consequent hostility. Overcoming
this divide in the course of one of the most bitter labor disputes
in recent memory shows a new level of sophistication in both communities.