Live Wire: Women and Brotherhood in the Electrical Industry

admin — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

Live Wire provides a full and exhaustively detailed history of the presence of women in the construction electrical trade, discussing and illustrating the enormous challenges that female electricians still face. By also discussing the mechanisms and impact of the Civil Rights struggle of the 1970s on the racial integration of the electrical industry, Moccio highlights the elements unique to the integration (or lack thereof) of women in that field. The book is capped by some theories on how more effective recruitment and retention of female electricians could be attained.

Skilled trades lack a certain societal transparency that other, more white-collar careers have; I suggest that most people could guess off the top of their heads roughly how one goes about becoming a doctor or a lawyer, but have no idea what the training and job description of an electrician or pipe fitter might look like. A good measure of the fascination of this book flows from the sheer novelty of the subject matter, which is due largely to the structure and traditions of the various unions associated with the electrical industry. Moccio deftly peels back the layers of history one by one, so that the reader is left with a solid grasp of the entire industry, its unions, and how they have evolved together, while still highlighting the thread of female experience throughout.

I would have preferred a much more in-depth exploration of specific ways to open doors for women with the industry than only the two final pages, but perhaps that may be outside the intended scope of this particular work. Although Moccio does indeed attempt to describe the basis of male electricians' overwhelmingly negative reactions to the entrance of women in the trade, her solutions don't seem to address those issues specifically. This leaves me wondering if any resolution can succeed that doesn't directly counter the underlying reasons why women are perceived as threatening to the industry's very existence.

Do not let the jazzy cover art fool you—this book is first and foremost a labor studies textbook, and it reads like one. Except for the short and uncomfortably pompous “Personal Background” section of the “Introduction,” Moccio's writing is very dense yet clear and illuminating. This is no relaxing beach or bedside read; the reader must do the work of paying close attention and assimilating all the complex networks, associations, and histories carefully laid out by the author. Your reward is a competent and empowering understanding of the struggles of women in a field that would rather you remain ignorant.

Written by: Kirsten Cook, January 30th 2010

Fugitive Denim: A Moving Story of People and Pants in the Borderless World of Global Trade

admin — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 17:41:00 +0000

By Rachel Louise Snyder

WW Norton

Name-dropping Bono in the first chapter of a book about global trade is not a way to win the trust of activists and critical analysts. For me, it can signal anything from blatant ignorance to a writer’s weak attempt at attaining pop culture credibility. I wanted to give Fugitive Denim a chance, despite its hokey name, but when the confusing analogies began immediately, I felt like I was reading a novel penned by a tenth grade English teacher, who was trying way too hard to make me like her. Instead of an inspiring tale detailing the pain, complications, and changes being made to overcome the problems that globalization has brought to developing countries (and subsequently, the developed world), this fluffy book winds around a dozen issues, never focusing or properly addressing the topics at hand. Maybe it should be expected that in tackling such a difficult, wide-ranging subject, a writer would be more familiar with the issues and have a better ability to document them. In this case, while I do respect the author’s attempt at telling a complicated story, the effort falls painfully short.

The problem with Fugitive Denim is that in trying to seem unbiased, writer Rachel Louise Snyder makes it impossible for her audience to determine her stance on issues, and thereby makes her intentions (not to mention her narrative) muddled. While impartial journalism is ideal, we all know it is rarely executed. When it comes to dissecting trade from a bottom-up framework, why bother? In what appears to be an attempt to balance the arguments and show that everyone is hurting under new global trade laws, after hanging out in a few far-flung villages, Snyder interviews designers at Gucci and Prada about their plight as well. Perhaps this is meant to explain that problems with quotas and trade agreements effect everyone on the food chain, but this tactic is instead wildly insulting and naïve. Why do I care if Dolce and Gabbana have problems keeping up their profits? Their concerns about the legitimacy of “Made in Italy” labels? Are you kidding me?

Snyder does provide a lot of interesting footnotes and details much of the inner workings of the textile industry in her travels. One of her most important contributions is shining a light on the rail-thin, stoop-shouldered women who pick the cotton that becomes our jeans. An American based in Cambodia, Snyder seems well aware of gender inequity that surrounds the often-secretive garment industry. Environmental issues are also a key concern in this narrative, and I do applaud these efforts, but all of this great information gets lost in the shuffle of random catchphrases and puns I honestly didn’t understand.

I think for the right person, this might be a great primer on global trade and the textile and apparel industry. I found Snyder’s confused-genre book too murky with scattered details and misplaced metaphors, struggling to find its footing on a rocky path between villages. Maybe I’m a hater, but I just can’t get behind a glossy, MTV version of the hows and whys of globalization.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, February 10th 2008