Abstract
This paper reports on a study of the experiences of minority ethnic workers in seeking advice and support for workplace problems. Our focus on three minority ethnic groups (Kurdish, Black Caribbean and South Asian) in three specific localities of London is unique in that it provides new micro-level qualitative data on whether or not local social networks are utilised to assist with employment problems. The research explores workers’ knowledge of what employment advice is available in their localities and their experiences of seeking advice. Interviewees included community advice workers, trade unionists, lawyers and funding bodies about the extent of local employment provision. The findings show that there are few places to turn and a dearth of individual employment advice.
Introduction
Research has shown that tackling social exclusion requires that members of all communities have equality of access to work, housing, services and political participation (Home Office, 2004; Jordon, 1996; ODPM, 2000), but in the context of work, this remains an aspiration—particularly for some minority ethnic groups (Bloch, 2004). The questions we seek to answer are: to whom do minority ethnic workers turn for problems at work and what advice is available to them and what use is made of social networks in the urban environment? We know that some seek help from Citizens Advice Bureaux and others from Law Centres or other local advice agencies and that others do nothing at all (Pollert, 2008), but we know little of how or whether social networks within minority ethnic communities are utilised. We do know, however, that a survey of low-paid, unrepresented workers (non-unionised) with employment problems (the Unrepresented Worker Survey, URWS, 2004) found that minority ethnic workers are more likely than others to seek help from friends and family (Pollert and Charlwood, 2009). Similarly, an earlier survey that questioned whether or not people from minority ethnic groups have different experiences of the civil justice system found that there were
distinct differences between black, Asian and white respondents in relation to advice seeking behaviour and experiences of accessing advice in the civil justice system (O’Grady et al., 2005, p. 634).
However, the authors conclude that, the “survey does not provide adequate information as to why” (O’Grady et al. 2005, p. 634). While our focus in this paper is not on the civil justice system per se, we do, however, highlight some of the factors affecting the way minority ethnic groups experience problems at work and how they seek to resolve them. One aspect of this is to note the importance of ‘community’ to different groups of minority ethnic workers and the steps taken by key actors to demonstrate mutual benefits of community and trade union joint working (McBride and Greenwood, 2009; Perrett and Martínez Lucio, 2006). There has been little focus on the interrelationship of these issues, particularly in the field of industrial relations, which has traditionally focused its attention at the workplace or the differential factors affecting minority ethnic groups at work (for exceptions, see chapters in McBride and Greenwood, 2009), but the social and spatial divisions of labour, where the importance of social networks in finding and sustaining employment, has received much greater attention from outside this field (see for example, Fieldhouse, 1999; Louise et al., 2008; May et al., 2007; Painter et al., 2007; Reingold, 1999). The paper questions whether local community-based organisations can or do play a role in providing support for workers from minority ethnic communities who have problems at work.
Of interest in this paper is the extent to which individuals are embedded with localised social and spatial networks and the effect these have on how support and advice are accessed to help deal with work-related issues. In sociology, social network theory has been helpful in providing an understanding of the complex relationships between members of, or organisations within, society (Granovetter, 1973). It has been used to understand kinship networks, local and urban-based communities, individual personal networks, corporate and economic structures and more recently virtual e-networks (see Scott, 2002, for a detailed overview). While there is not the scope in this paper to interrogate the literature in any detail, we want to highlight a couple of ideas that are particularly relevant to our study. First, it is well known that social networks play a key role in the employment situation in terms of finding work, job performance, promotion and pay and this is particularly so for migrants (Granovetter, 1995; Louise et al., 2008; Williams, 2006). Strong ties through family, neighbours and co-ethnics within the community are an importance source of social capital facilitating entry into employment, but despite the benefits short term, this can create problems of dependency and social disadvantage. Our study of three urban environments provides an important context for analysing how Bourdieu’s theoretical concepts of bridging and bonding social capital might play out empirically within the three minority ethnic communities (Bourdieu, 1972). For example, to what extent were workers from minority ethnic groups able to make use of bonding social capital and what was the role of family and kinship networks and religious institutions in providing support? In addition, Granovetter’s (1973) seminal work on social network theory, helps to explain the importance of ‘weak ties’—i.e. links with social networks outside one’s immediate close-knit networks. Without these, individuals’ horizons are limited and they are unable to access skills and information that enable them to progress in life or increase their social mobility (Wierzbicki, 2004). Further, while it is true that social networks among migrant groups can be extremely important in helping people to adapt to a new environment, there are also negative aspects associated with them. Hagan argues that
as the settlement pattern lengthens, however, disadvantages of immigrant based social networks can sometimes emerge. Migrants become so tightly encapsulated … that they lose some of the advantages associated with developing weak ties with residents outside the community (Hagan, 1998, p. 65).
She not only questions whether ‘ethnic enclave economies’ are a means of long-term economic advancement, but also makes a strong case that networks operate in a gendered way to produce systematic differences in labour market outcomes for men and women—with women often confined to co-ethnic networks, thereby missing out on the advantages of developing weak ties in the wider community. Further, it is necessary to recognise that social networks are not static—they are constantly changing both spatially and temporally and this affects the views and behaviour of those operating within specific social networks. It is important to keep these issues in mind as we take a look at communities and social networks that are the subject of this study, but before that we need to consider the research relating to problems at work, minority ethnic workers and the decline in trade union membership.
Problems at Work and the Decline in Trade Union Membership
First, it should be noted that there is substantial evidence that workplace problems among all British workers are widespread (Pollert and Charlwood, 2009). While some studies have shown that minority ethnic respondents were no more likely to experience problems than White respondents in a study of the civil justice system (O’Grady et al., 2005) the URWS found that minority ethnic workers with problems were over-represented compared with their representation among the low-paid, non-unionised in the labour force (Pollert and Charlwood, 2009). This finding coheres with evidence that ethnic minority workers are at a greater disadvantage in the labour market as a result of prejudice, racism, xenophobia and the spaces which they inhabit (Clark and Drinkwater, 2007). Sassen (1991) has described how ethnic minority workers in global cities such as London are divided both spatially and economically, and more recent work has shown that migrant divisions of labour mean that rich and poor workers seldom interact—they often occupy the same spaces, but at different times, and perform different roles (McDowell et al., 2009; Wills et al., 2009).
A statistical report on ‘ethnic penalties’ faced by minority ethnic workers has reported that
Overall a number of ethnic minority groups, notably Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Black Caribbean and Black African men continue to experience higher unemployment rates, greater concentrations in routine and semi-routine work and lower hourly earnings than do members of the comparison group of British and other whites (Heath and Cheung, 2006, p. 1).
This differential and negative treatment of minority ethnic workers continues into work practices; indeed, a report by the Institute for Employment Studies into the discrepancies in the number of Black and ethnic minority staff subject to disciplinary procedures in local authorities in London, compared with their White counterparts, described how minority ethnic staff were ‘performance managed’ in a much more negative way than other staff and that there were other ‘organisational problems’ that could contribute to racial discrimination in the workplace (IES, 2000). In addition, migrant workers—particularly those vulnerable workers working in the low-wage economy—are subject to a whole range of injustices including summary dismissal, non-payment of wages, denial of holiday and abuse from managers and the public (Wills et al., 2010).
The concern of our research was how workers with problems at work attempted to resolve them—what did they do and where did they turn? One mechanism for dispute resolution at work is, of course, through trade unions—organisations that are able, through local representatives, to provide assistance from workplace grievances. However, although unionised workers can seek support with their trade union, these are now a minority. In 2009 there was a further decline in trade union density from 28 per cent of employees in 2007 to 27.4 per cent (density was 55.4 per cent in 1979). The figures drop to a density of 24.9 per cent if based on all those in employment as opposed to just employees. In the private sector, membership has fallen to just 15.1 per cent—and although membership remains high in the public sector (56.6 per cent), there has, however, been a fall of 6.3 per cent since 1995 (all figures, Achur, 2010). Collective bargaining coverage has plummeted from 85 per cent of employees in the mid 1970s, to around a third of employees in 2009 (Brown and Nash, 2008). The decline in unionisation and union recognition is especially marked in small workplaces with less than 25 employees. In the UK, those workers who are covered by collective bargaining agreements cannot, however, approach a union representative for help with an individual grievance if they are not union members. The fact that unions are far less rooted in communities than they once were means that these types of social network are also not available for support and, further, the UK union movement has engaged little with the idea of community unionism which may offer alternative means of representation and support (for exceptions, see Holgate, 2005; Martínez Lucio and Perrett, 2009; McBride and Greenwood, 2009).
The Paucity of Advice for Workers with Problems at Work
So, while unionised workers are able to approach their local union representative for assistance, where do non-unionised workers turn when they encounter difficulties at work? A recent survey of non-unionised workers—the Unrepresented Workers Survey—found that 61 per cent of a 501 sample tried to seek advice primarily through management, their line manager or through friends and family and, of those, only 12 per cent sought independent external advice (Pollert, 2005). Yet, workers seeking external advice are limited by the scarce resources available (Abbott, 2006; Pollert et al., 2008). The Federation of Independent Advice Agencies has voiced concerns that there are few resources available to support employment advice (Waterhouse, 2001). Workers may seek advice from Citizens Advice, a national charity largely staffed by volunteers which was set up in 1939 to look at how to meet the needs of the civilian population in war time. With its high-street presence and its 426 advice bureaux across England and Wales, this is often the first place where people turn when needing advice. In one year alone, Citizens Advice claim to have “helped 1.9 million people to solve 6 million problems” (Citizens Advice, 2009), but only 144 of the bureaux provided specialist advice on employment matters (Pollert et al., 2008). In most cases, volunteers are only able to assist with basic employment advice and need to refer clients to other bodies for more complex matters. The government also provides a number of advice lines through funded organisations like the Advisory, Conciliation and Arbitration service (ACAS) and the Legal Services Commission’s Community Legal Service, both of which provide independent and impartial advice to employees and employers looking to resolve difficulties in the workplace. Again, these bodies can only inform workers of their rights and it is up to individuals to pursue these rights themselves, which can prove extremely difficult without representation, support and, often legal, guidance.
Community-based law centres do have qualified legal advisors but there are only 64 of these across the UK, with only 52 having employment specialists and many are in financial difficulties due to cuts from funding bodies and changes to the way legal aid is administered (Pollert et al., 2008). Even when cases secure legal aid funding, this is only for initial advice or case preparation; it does not cover representation in the employment tribunal or county court. Although there are numerous solicitors prepared to take on civil cases on a ‘no win, no fee’ basis, this is not the case in most employment cases as the amounts won at employment tribunal are relatively low and most solicitors do not consider the work to be financially viable. Employment tribunals were originally established to provide a relatively ‘informal’ means of legal redress for matters relating to employment, but they have become increasingly legalistic and are now dominated by formal representation by solicitors and barristers. Recent LSC figures for the numbers of individuals assisted with employment matters through the legal aid scheme in 2009 show that solicitors took on 6117 cases; the not-for-profit sector (CABx and Law Centres) took on 8776 cases; and 12 942 individuals called the LSC Community Legal Service helpline (LSC, 2009). If, as the British Worker Representation and Participation (BWRP) survey suggests, 38 per cent of its respondents had problems at work and this is representative of the workforce as a whole (approximately 29 million), then it would appear that there are many workers with problems who are not receiving basic advice, legal advice or any form of representation when they encounter a problem at work.
So Where Do Workers Go When They Have a Problem at Work and Why Is This Important?
As we have demonstrated, there is a general paucity of advice for all workers who have problems at work, but, according to the UWRS, minority ethnic workers (along with other groups, such as those with caring responsibilities and disabled workers) find it significantly harder to get advice than others. This is worrying, considering that only a little over half of all respondents in the UWRS reported that they found it easy or very easy to obtain advice, which gives an indication of how much more difficult it is for minority ethnic workers (Pollert and Charlwood, 2009).
After looking at the methodology employed in the research, the following sections will look at how different groups of minority ethnic workers have navigated social networks in their locality in an attempt to resolve their difficulties. What resources do they use and where are these based? To what extent do workers rely on social networks within their local communities and what do they think of the employment advice they receive?
Methodology
This paper draws on data from 249 interviews: 64 in-depth face-to-face interviews with key respondents and 100 in-depth face-to-face interviews and 88 workers in 16 focus groups in 3 local communities in London. Key respondents include people working in third-sector organisations such as Law Centres and other advice and advocacy organisations like Citizens Advice, local solicitors, community organisations, faith groups and local council representatives. Workers were interviewed in focus groups and individually to understand how they respond when faced with a problem at work and where they turn for help or advice. Interviewees were found using a range of methods using trade unions and employers’ networks to circulate a general e-mail asking people who either currently had issues at work or who had had problems in the past to contact us for a confidential interview at a place of their choosing. The research team also used local libraries, advice and community centres, colleges, shops, churches and doctors’ surgeries to display posters about the research.
In an attempt to understand the social networks used and the context in which people live their lives, the research focuses on three London boroughs. The boroughs were chosen to provide a geographical research framework as useful contextual quantitative data are collated at this scale (for example, Census and Labour Force Survey) and community activity and support networks are often found organised at the scale of local boroughs, or even at ward level. However, the urban context is also important: we chose to conduct in-depth qualitative case studies of three locally based ethnic groups in London: Kurds in Hackney (inner north-east London), South Asians (originating from the Indian sub-continent) in Ealing (outer west London) and Black Caribbeans in Lambeth (inner south London) where localised social structures are, or have been, well-establised in the city for many years. We have specifically chosen these for a number of reasons. In Ealing and Lambeth, the ethnic groups represent the largest minority ethnic group in the boroughs with long-standing and well-established social networks. The Kurdish communities in Hackney, although not the largest, represent a significant underresearched ethnic group in the UK and are a relatively new migrant and predominantly refugee community, but with strong social networks based on politics and kinship.
An important aspect of this study is that the minority ethnic groups are significantly different in their labour market profiles, which provides an opportunity to consider a range of factors affecting the way workers behave. For example, the majority of South Asians working in Ealing are to be found in the private sector—often working in the service sector in and around Heathrow airport. In Lambeth, Black Caribbean workers (mainly female) are to be found working in the public sector—in health and local government, whereas Kurdish workers are concentrated in a relatively small ‘ethnic enclave’ of local Kurdish business serving the local community—mainly in retail and catering. Thus, we are able to consider responses to dealing with problems at work from a wide range of employment backgrounds with different employment relations practice and this is different from much other work, which tends to compare minority ethnic groups as similar.
Community-based Organisations: What Advice Is Available in the Three Local Communities?
The first question to examine is the extent to which advice providers were rooted in communities, in terms of social origins, staffing and support. In general, we found that, in most localities, advice was provided by broader institutions, such as Law Centres and CABx, and their ties with local communities varied. In terms of these institutions’ ability to provide support and give ‘voice’ to workers, a common finding was their resource constraints (see Abbott, 2004; Pollert et al., 2008, for similar findings). Advice agencies reported that they were working over capacity and were finding it difficult to survive financially. Hackney, for example, had a Law Centre which had been operating for over 30 years, but each month brought a crisis of whether there was enough money to pay workers’ wages. Changes to the way legal aid funding is allocated by the Legal Services Commission had reduced its cash flow, making survival precarious. Other than the Law Centre, there was little other employment advice provision in the borough and we examine later the degree of community integration of the Law Centre, in terms of workers’ knowledge about it. Although there was a CAB, it did not offer employment advice other than at the most basic level (generally helping people to write letters to their employer). This was also the case in Ealing but, in contrast to Hackney, it did have a number of voluntary-sector organisations that provide advice and assistance for workers and there were links with local, minority ethnic communities. The biggest, Law for All, is an independent Legal-Service-Commission-funded organisation with around 14 solicitors. It works closely with other local advice organisations such as Southall Black Sisters, an organisation primarily dealing with domestic violence, and Southall Day Centre, both of whom provide assistance to the South Asian communities of west London. These two organisations have been around since the 1970s and are well known to many within the local community, as are Southall Community Alliance, Ealing Race Equality Council, the Indian Workers Association and Southall Monitoring Group, all of whom provide local community-based advice, but largely without the means to offer representation.
In Lambeth, the local CAB is only able to offer employment sessions a few times a week—one of these is on Wednesday evenings so that people who work ‘standard hours’ are able to attend—but as they do not have sufficient specialism in employment law, they refer people to other agencies, such as Lambeth Law Centre or Brixton Advice Centre, both of which have been around for decades. Even so, there is a limitation to what these latter organisations can provide. The Law Centre has a specially funded ‘discrimination unit’, but no funding for general employment cases. This means that a worker who has been unfairly dismissed will only get basic advice, but a worker who has also experienced discrimination is able to get full legal assistance. This is one of the few places in London where workers who have experienced discrimination at work can still get full support (apart from trade unions), from initial advice, preparation of case and representation at employment tribunal up to and including appeal. There are, however, few links between the Lambeth Law Centre and any locally based community organisations.
Employment Advice and Social Networks in Ealing
As already noted, most new migrant communities depend on strong social networks to enable them to adjust to life in a new country (Louise et al., 2008; Williams, 2006). A lack of English language skills often means that new migrants are reliant on those in the community who can read, write and interpret for them, but in the case of the Asian communities of west London, particularly around Southall (a part of Ealing), the communities were also drawn together as a result of the level of racism they faced in the early years of migration—particularly in the 1970s and 1980s when the far-right National Front attempted to organise provocative marches calling for the repatriation of Black and Asian people (CARF/Southall Rights, 1981). As a result, Southall represents a key node in community-based self-help organising. In particular, key events in mobilising the South Asian communities of Ealing were the racist murder of Gurdeep Singh Chaggar in 1976 by a group of young White men and the death of Blair Peach, who was killed by the police at a National Front march in April 1979 (NMP/CARF, 1991). In addition to this, there is a historical legacy of industrial militancy among the community (for example, Hillingdon Hospital, Sky Chef, Gate Gourmet). These strikes were supported by local groups such as the Indian Workers Association, which aimed to improve conditions for immi-grant workers, working alongside the mainstream British labour movement, and Southall Black Sisters, a campaigning organisation which highlights and challenges violence against women (see CARF/Southall Rights, 1981; Southall Black Sisters, 1990, for detailed history). In addition to these groups, local Hindu temples and Sikh gurdwaras have, over many years, played an important role in supporting South Asian workers who have been on strike or involved in industrial disputes. For example, there was a national and international outcry against Gate Gourmet, a food production company that supplied Heathrow airport, when it locked out its mainly female South Asian workforce when they objected to the company’s employment of temporary agency staff which they believed would reduce pay and conditions. The company sacked 670 of its workers and the locked-out Asian workforce immediately set up a picket line at the airport and was supported by the baggage handlers who shut down the airport for almost a week. Although not successful, the dispute was sustained for several months through national, international and local solidarity, but mainly through South Asian social networks in and around Southall. The local gurdwaras provided sustenance for strikers and supporters by providing help and advice to individual workers, a daily food kitchen for workers and their supporters and the use of their premises for strike meetings. A number of women who were involved in this major industrial dispute a couple of years prior to our interviews talked to us about how strong the local social networks were in helping to sustain their dispute
When we are sitting on the hill [picketing outside the workplace], the gurdwaras came and helped us, with food and everything. They also provided us with home for the meeting, when the union had meeting. They give us support, and cooked the food there. We started our march from the [gurdwara], our people are gathering from there, then we are starting from there. And even they walked with us all the march, through the march, and they are very supportive (Gurvinder, female, ex-Gate-Gourmet worker).
Despite this, local support from local temples or gurdwaras was generally limited to high-profile collective industrial disputes. Few interviewees said they would approach such places if they had an individual problem at work, but said they would use them to seek the names of lawyers who might be able to assist. One person described how a Southall mosque had established legal surgeries where individuals could receive a free half-hour of legal advice, but that this was only around issues of immigration. A number of workers talked about the Brent Indian Association as a useful place for employment advice. The GMB union had in the preceding six years established an employment surgery in the community centre, particularly as a way of reaching non-unionised workers in the South Asian communities and also a way of finding out about organising leads. As one worker explained
So I am upset, not sleeping full night and I went to the Brent Indian Association for advice. And they gave me advice, they said you have two choices, you want money or you want to give a lesson to your employer? I said I want to give them a lesson. I am not interested in money. So then they gave me a number for GMB union. Until that moment, I don’t know anything about trade unions. I joined straight away, and then I contact the union officers and explained my problem … And that was the situation, I say let me try, give me a try, I will speak with my colleagues. Most of workers are there are migrant workers; Asian ethnic minority. And they are facing the same problem I face, so they all agreed to join the union and in a really short period 2–3 months, we have a majority are in the union. So the GMB union forced them to bring the union inside, we organise, it’s very important the worker organising first. If they are not organised, employers always take advantage (Vishram, male, factory worker).
This example shows that there is potential for utilising social networks in the community, not merely to provide advice but as an attempt to collectivise workers and offer representation at the same time. Although perhaps hindered by the lack of ‘weak ties’ outside co-ethnic groups (Granovetter, 1973), which can create opportunities for economic mobility, these South Asian workers do have ‘strong ties’ based on community solidarity which are essential for union organisation. The difference between the way this community centre is used and that of the Kurdish centres, mentioned later, is that for these Asian workers there is a link to a trade union—an organisation that has the skills and resources available to offer advice on employment matters.
Employment Advice and Social Networks in Lambeth
Although there were numerous very small Black Caribbean ‘self-help’-type groups in Lambeth—dealing with health or youth issues, for example—there were no comparable general ethnic-based cross-community organisations like those of the Kurdish and South Asian communities in Hackney or Ealing. Those that did exist, such as the West Indian Ex-servicemen’s and Ex-servicewomen’s Association and the Brixton Domino and Social Club, were longstanding organisations frequented by elders in the Caribbean community. In the first three decades following the main Caribbean migration to the UK, many West Indian community groups were established. First-generation people from the Caribbean settling in inner London during the 1950s and 1960s found life difficult, as landlords refused to rent property to them, displaying unwelcome notices stating ‘no coloureds’ (Fryer, 1984). Many employers, too, were openly racist and even when they did recruit Black workers they were employed on inferior terms and conditions—working unpopular shifts and doing the dirtiest jobs. Wider society was often no more welcoming as pubs, bars and dance halls operated ‘colour bars’ where Black people were not admitted (Ramdin, 1999). Consequently, the Black Caribbean community established its own social networks consisting of self-help organisations, shops and a vibrant social scene based around house parties (Sivanandan, 1990), but these have since declined over the years, as the community became more established and embedded in life in the UK. Yet this loss of community organisation is double edged; while Black workers’ experience of the labour market has changed over the years, there is still considerable disadvantage and discrimination for which finding help and support can be difficult and the lack of community organisations to provide this support compounds the problem.
One organisation that remains from those early days is Brixton Advice Centre, established over 40 years ago to provide advice to workers who did not, at the time, have the support of trade unions. Operating as a Law Centre, it was, however, unknown to most of the workers interviewed in Lambeth—even though it has remained in the same street in the centre of Brixton for all its existence. Although it only has one employment advisor, it is one of the few places in Lambeth where workers can get legal-aided advice on employment matters; the other is Lambeth Law Centre which has a specialist CLS-funded unit for discrimination cases. Lambeth at least has a CAB—unlike the two other boroughs—but finds that it is completely overwhelmed with the numbers seeking advice and is only able to offer limited employment advice
Because we’re a generalist outlet, we are basically thin on the ground in terms of paid staff, we haven’t got any caseworkers. It’s mostly volunteers, so we will assist the people who are capable of running their own cases and then try to get them reps (employment advisor, CAB).
Yet in interviews, few workers had heard of any community-based organisations in Lambeth providing employment advice, apart from the CAB.
A survey, commissioned by the Black Training and Enterprise Group to look at the state of community organisation in the Black Caribbean community in the UK, concluded that government funding priorities had shifted and that government thought that Caribbean groups, as a long-established community, no longer were in need of funding. However, the report warned
to survive and maintain their identity as Caribbean organisations involved in service delivery … may prove difficult unless they can convince their funders of the importance of culturally sensitive services (Equinox Consulting, 2008, p. 8).
Over the past few years, there has been a move away from the funding of stand-alone ethnic minority organisations, as a result of the challenge to the idea of multiculturalism, to either combined/generalised Black and multi-ethnic organisations or mainstream providers of service, which is considered by these advocates to be more ‘inclusive’. Yet, the report by Equinox found that
Caribbean community organisations still have a useful role to play in service provision to deal with issues where identity is important to the users (Equinox Consulting, 2008, p. 8).
There was a great sense of loss amongst interviewees about the decline of locally based Caribbean community organisations and how there was a real change in the sense of a Black community spirit. Here, we see the consequences of the loss of ‘strong ties’ in the social networks within the community and the loss of interpersonal ties (Granovetter, 1973). The community is much more spatially dispersed and the once-dense social networks are now much weaker. Numerous references were made to the strong social networks around Brixton between the 1950s and 1980s, where there were ‘unofficial community centres’ linked around local radical bookshops, cafés and church halls, providing cohesive community networks based on an experience of racism and discrimination. Cathy, a women in her mid 40s, summed up the feeling that many other interviewees expressed when she talked about how there had been a major change in a feeling of a cohesive Caribbean community in Lambeth
When I was younger, when I was a child, the community spirit was a lot better than it is now. Now it takes for something drastic to happen in the community before people actually open their door and say—I’ve got neighbours that went through that problem, or I’ve got somebody that I can relate to (Cathy, female, youth worker).
The shift from the grass-roots organisations of the early years to the municipal funding of the 1980s and the ‘incorporation’ of leading community activists into ‘mainstream’ organisations was seen as a double-edged sword for many (see Sivanandan, 1990, for a critique of this). While it was important that leading Black community leaders secured high-profile jobs and positions in local and national government, at the same time lack of succession planning left many organisations weakened and without support. Over time, bridging and linking social capital has increased such that ‘weak links’ with social networks outside the Black Caribbean community have allowed many to develop more cross-cutting ties allowing individuals to move on, up and out of the localised community (Coleman, 1988). A number of Lambeth residents reflected back to earlier times when there was a greater sense of a more cohesive Black community
I grew up in the ‘80s and where there was much more of a political movement, or a Black political movement. You had situations like the Deptford Fire and you had the 1981 Brixton Riots. You had the Lord Scarman report. You had a lot more resource centres in terms of Black community groups. I grew up in Lambeth as well as Southwark. So you had well-known, Black community groups like the Unity Centre, the Sojourner Truth Centre. So these were hubs where community people could come together and speak about the issues that were affecting the community. So I feel in the ‘80s there was more supported self-organisation in the communities because of resources were there for people to pop in and get advice (Femi, female union representative).
Repeatedly, interviewees talked sadly about the loss of community and how their lives were now so much individualised. Work and home, home and work, with little time for socialisation or any form of community engagement, was the way that many described their lives. Social networks of the past had disappeared as family and friends had moved out of Lambeth—some moving out of the urban inner city to more prosperous and quieter suburbs to avoid the hustle and bustle of Brixton. This impacted quite strongly on support networks too. When faced with problems at work, the disengagement with wider local social networks meant that workers had fewer places to turn—the knowledge of advice in the locality was extremely limited. While a number of interviewees in Lambeth did turn to their unions for assistance, the advice and support for most was unsatisfactory as such problems were often internalised and people felt it was up to them to attempt to solve their problems on their own, as many tried to do. In comparison with the South Asian communities described, there was a greater experience of individualisation and fragmentation of the notion of community among the Black Caribbean interviewees.
Employment Advice and Social Networks in Hackney
When we spoke to local workers in the Kurdish community, few were aware of the existence of the Law Centre and the Law Centre’s statistics showed that they had few enquiries from people within the Kurdish communities (although a few in relation to immigration cases). There appeared to be a number of reasons for this: first, a general lack of knowledge of the Centre’s existence; secondly, a lack of interpreting provision; and, thirdly, the tendency of Kurdish workers—many of whom work in local ethnic businesses with kinship networks –to leave their problems unresolved or to move on to other work. One young chef who was working 55 hours a week for £270 (below the minimum wage) and was constantly bullied, explained how he had little choice but to leave as there was no way of finding a resolution to his problems
I left. I could not see any change in situation. It was getting to a level that we could fight. I told her that I am leaving. She had a good relationship with my older brother. She helped my brother when he came here. So for the sake of my brother I did not say anything to her (Agit, male, chef).
As a new migrant and refugee community, there are, as might be expected, numerous Kurdish community centres where people gather for social, cultural and political events. Strong social networks revolve around these centres and repeatedly interviewees talked of their importance in re-affirming and maintaining Kurdish culture among the diaspora
I was actively involved in Kurdish Community Centre and Turkish and Kurdish Community Centre … We have tried some Kurdish lessons there as my parents were not able to pass on [the Kurdish language] to their children. I was there for years to see people from my background. Just to feel sense of community and I think that’s important (Rozerîn, female, civil servant).
A number of the community organisations provide drop-in advice sessions on a range of issues such as housing, immigration and education, and some, although limited, offered basic employment advice. However, we found that workers had contradictory views about using community centres as places to help solve workplace problems. Some felt that they would turn to the community centres to ask for advice as to where they might be referred: “it would be one of the first things I would use if I needed to”, whereas others felt it was not the right place to go for such advice
I know that many people working in sort of catering industry where Kurdish people work are not unionised. If they have problem, obviously for not being member of the union they don’t go to unions. They go to community centres. Some pay a lot of money and go to solicitors which we have quite a lot of Turkish solicitors although I am not aware of any Kurdish solicitors. If they go to law centre or advice bureau they are not going to be able to mention their issues because of their communication problems. As I said earlier, the main contact, main first contact points for these people are these community organisations. And sometimes people do not go anywhere. They are just suffering in silence in hands of terrible sort of horrible employers. They are suffering because of fear of losing their jobs (Talat, male, education worker). If I have a Kurdish issue, maybe yeah, but I don’t feel I should come to the Kurdish community centre to discuss my private or employment life, although maybe this is the right place (Rojhan, male, IT manager).
Although the community centres were often viewed as being the ‘heart’ of the Kurdish communities and functioned very much as regular social gathering places for people, employment-related advice was not an important activity. This is perhaps explained by the labour market demographics in the area. Many Kurds work within local community businesses, employed by family, friends or via kinship networks based on geographies from home—none of which recognises trade unions—therefore ruling out that route for assistance. Talat, the education worker mentioned earlier, talked about the levels of exploitation of workers, where people worked long hours, often unpaid, without contracts or statutory holiday pay and in some cases without paying tax or national insurance and this was repeated through many of the interviews. In such circumstances, there is, understandably, a reluctance to complain about working conditions or the difficulties in which workers might find themselves. Here, the positive aspects of social networks—help in finding work, accommodation, translation of formal documentation, links back to the homeland, etc.—can also be negative and restrictive at the same time. As other research has shown, maintaining strong ties with people from the same ethnic group (at the expense of others) can lead to social disadvantage, can foster social exclusion or marginalisation and may reinforce dependency on niche employment markets (Louise et al., 2008; Wierzbicki, 2004).
Although there was little advice or representation for Kurdish workers—even among local social networks—we did, however, uncover a little-known mechanism for dealing with what were considered the most serious cases of conflict within the community. The director of one community group explained how a ‘Peace Committee’ had been established, made up of respected elderly men and women who were elected by members of the community centre. As he explained, this committee, which had considerable standing in the community, would be called on to arbitrate and its decisions were expected to be binding on the parties involved (although, of course, they had no enforcement in law)
What they will do, they will just call the business owner, because the naming and shaming is a big issue [in the community], so this business owner will come over and they will say ‘look this person says that he works for you and you do not pay him, why is that?’ [He might say] ‘OK, he worked but he left early’. [The Peace Committee] they will find a consensus. So they will either make him pay, they will ask him to pay all the money he owes, or if the person that works for him has not fulfilled his promises, if he hasn’t worked for four weeks, if he worked only for two and a half weeks, he will get two and a half weeks’ pay (Kurdish male, director of Halkevi, Kurdish community organisation).
The Peace Committee meets weekly to arbitrate on cases and is also used by the police who, on occasions, suggest that individuals may wish to see if they are able to resolve their issues in this way rather than resort to the judicial system. While many of the cases dealt with were family, intercommunity loans and neighbour disputes, there were also employment-related matters. In one session, we observed a number of cases where individuals had not been paid or were owed considerable amounts of money in deferred wages and the ‘respondents’ were ordered to make the payments by a fixed deadline. In one case, a cheque was handed over for £10 000. We were also told by the Peace Committee that employers also sometimes used the ‘court’ to resolve difficulties they were having with employees. Strong social network ties are essential for the operation of this system. All parties must agree that the finding will be binding or the case does not go ahead. Compliance is generally guaranteed through social and peer pressure and the need to maintain social standing within the community. Despite being effective at retrieving money from recalcitrant employees, there was little evidence that other types of employment-related matter (bullying, minimum wage and holiday violations, etc.) were taken to the committee, leaving many without the means to resolve these particular difficulties at work.
Concluding Remarks
With the decline in union membership, only a minority of UK workers seek advice on individual workplace problems from a union. Apart from Black Caribbean workers, who have slightly higher union density than White British workers, other minority ethnic workers (apart from Indians and Pakistanis) have minimal union membership. What do such workers do when faced with workplace grievances?
As is clear from the literature and data presented in this paper, non-unionised workers have few places to turn when they find they are in difficulty at work. While such workers can, under the 1999 Employment Relations Act, bring a trade union representative (which is unlikely for the non-unionised) into a grievance or disciplinary hearing, they have no right to bring in a friend, representative or solicitor from outside the workplace. Even if workers are successful in finding a local advice agency to assist, the support they can receive is limited. Legal aid has never been available for Employment Tribunal representation and applicants are forced to represent themselves, pay for a lawyer or seek the voluntary (and unfunded) assistance of an employment adviser.
The resources available at Law Centres and CABx are limited and few community organisations are in a position to offer advice or support, particularly in relation to employment matters. There are, of course, other organisations, while not specifically advice agencies, that are able to offer more general support for people experiencing problems at work. Although we have not had the space to discuss these in this paper, others have discussed how local organisations such as faith groups and community coalitions, like London Citizens, are often able to provide ‘safe spaces’ for workers to discuss their problems (Holgate and Wills, 2007). 1 While these are no substitute for professional advice, there are cases where workers may need only basic information in order for them to resolve their difficulties, or they may just need signposting to find the detail they need. Yet we found that there are few links between these types of general community-based organisations and trade unions or nationally based advice agencies. Yet, one interviewee explained the potential synergies between using the social networks in broad-based community campaigns and trade union membership
In my role as Strangers into Citizens co-ordinator, I get a lot of people coming to me directly with problems related to work. But in fact we are not really set up to be able to deal with those problems and we have to develop relationships where we can refer people on. What we try to do with workplace issues is to really reinforce to people that we can’t be a substitute for a trade union. And often what will happen is when people get involved with us, maybe through their community organisations, then they will get involved in perhaps the living wage campaign. And through that, become a member of a trade union, that’s the ideal. Because we can’t provide long-term protection that the union can (Anna, London Citizens organiser).
The community coalition mentioned, London Citizens, covers Hackney, Ealing and Lambeth, and organises around issues that communities feel are important and is connected to a wide range of social networks mainly made up of minority ethnic communities. Whilst the campaign for a living wage has been its most prominent activity, it also has a ‘Strangers into Citizens’ campaign that calls for undocumented workers to be regularised so they are not exploited at work. There are therefore crossovers in the work done by this organisation and that of trade unions. However, although a few union members are involved with London Citizens, many are suspicious of working in conjunction with community groups like London Citizens who have a different tradition of organising (see Holgate, 2009, for a discussion of these difficulties). There have been examples of positive working from a small number of local trade union branches, but these are the exception rather than the rule (Holgate and Wills, 2007; Wills, 2004).
What is clear from our evidence is that minority ethnic workers with problems at work have few ‘community’ support networks that give them a collective voice mechanism and they largely rely on broad, national voluntary-sector organisations, which are resource-poor. Specialist employment advice is limited and, where language translation is an issue, even greater difficulties occur. These findings bring the role of trades unions into focus. Although not perfect, there are few organisations other than unions that can provide that level of support, both in terms of workplace representation and legal advice. Arguably, as major institutions of civil society and key agents of inclusivity in and beyond the workplace, trade unions are uniquely placed to work with minority ethnic workers and communities who are seeking to challenge social exclusion. Yet, although some unions have made some inroads into forming alliances and coalitions with minority ethnic community groups, to date, these initiatives are few (and very new) and have been little analysed in the UK (for exceptions, see the work of Holgate, 2009; Holgate and Wills, 2007; McBride and Greenwood, 2009; Perrett and Martínez Lucio, 2006; Wills, 2004). In the main, minority ethnic groups—particularly those working in low-paid jobs in the private sector—are largely non-unionised and have little recourse to advice or representation should they face problems at work. There is also little advice in the wider community. While some social networks can be used for basic advice and comfort, there are few places for workers to turn. Government initiatives over the years have done little to redress the unequal balance in the relationship between employer and employees and consequently workers are left without representation should they find themselves in difficulty at work. Trade unions are much weaker than they were 25–30 years ago, but they still provide the best resource for workers, with their ability to negotiate collectively and individually on behalf of workers. However, despite new organising initiatives over the past 10 years, they have still to develop a reach into many minority communities where the most vulnerable of workers are located. There is perhaps potential to develop relationships and rebuild organising approaches whereby unions become visible in the community once more.
It was also clear from the three case studies that social networks evolve and vary considerably over time. They are not static, but involve dynamic processes that have historical, geographical and temporal dimensions. South Asians in Ealing still have strong community and interpersonal ties that are linked to a history of self-organisation. The collective memory of racism and industrial disputes of the past can still unite the community when workers require help and support. Although the Black Caribbean community in Lambeth shared a similar history in terms of attacks on the community, its trajectory since post-war migration is quite different from that of South Asians. The sense of community is more tangential and there is a feeling that it is dissolving and dispersing. Parts of the community have benefited from accessing bridging and social capital and are no longer reliant on strong ties—and it was often this group that was responsible for much of the social and cultural cohesion that forged that strong sense of a Black community in Lambeth. The Kurdish community in Hackney differs quite considerably from both of the previous case studies in that it is at an early stage in the migration settlement process. It still largely operates within an ethnic enclave where it has very strong social network ties linked to family and kin. It is also relatively disconnected from the opportunities that might be provided by more educated and well-positioned individuals whose ‘weak ties’ could result in greater economic and social mobility. As Pinkster notes, reliance on local contacts limits employment opportunities because people do not
develop the language and communications skills to become independent of these job networks … thus the influence of local social relations on work opportunities is at the same time both positive and negative; they lead to work, but not the ‘right kind of work’ (Pinkster, 2007, p. 2589).
Footnotes
Funding Statement
This research was funded by the UK Economic and Social Research Council, grant no. RES-062-23-0464.
