My father would occasionally buy narra logs over two feet in diameter. These logs are recovered by young men braving the swollen Tarlac River and guiding them to the river bank. Mang Selo, a steely man in his 50s or 60s, would then strip the log into one-inch boards using a two-man crosscut saw with an assistant. They would start early in the morning, stopping momentarily to wipe their perspiration or drink some water. And they will go at it again. It would take days and weeks to process one log. At certain times, he would chop firewood for us, and he would, just the same, wield that ax, over and over, never slowing down, maintaining a machine-like cadence. He was a man of few words, and he never complained. Mang Selo is my extremely strong and compelling image of the “salt of the earth”—common people with innate perseverance, fairness, and goodness.
As another Labor Day has come and gone, the Rolling Stones’ 1968 song “Salt of the Earth” (https://tinyurl.com/5796j7pd) challenges us to truly see those behind our lives of relative ease: the delivery worker braving the elements, the tireless seamstress fighting for better wages, the countless Grab drivers—“common foot soldiers”—who deserve so much more than our complacency. Labor Day comes and goes, marked by speeches and soundbites. Yet, where is the heartfelt recognition, the genuine connection to the struggles of working people? The issues are laid bare—minimum wage, safety, contractualization—but the humanity behind them is often lost in the discourse.
The “Salt of the Earth” song strikes a timeless chord. It urges us to honor the toil: “Let’s drink to the hard-working people … who burn the fires and who still till the earth.” We need to question hollow leadership: “Wavering millions who need leaders but get gamblers instead.” We are reminded to uphold working-class dignity: “Spare a thought for his backbreaking work.”
The song’s YouTube comments reveal a deep appreciation for the “uncounted heads.” People connect it to their fathers, their families, to those whose tireless work often goes unnoticed. A common sentiment is: “This is for my Dad who raised eight kids on a laborer’s wage. Worked in the same factory for 45 years, couldn’t read or write but kept a roof over our heads and food on the table. They don’t make men like him anymore. Never heard him complain. Miss him a lot.”
Mang Selo and the Rolling Stones’ anthem remind us of nameless “salt of the earth” people, but we must reserve admiration for real-life heroes like Larry Itliong (https://tinyurl.com/3pzu7rrw) who dedicated their lives fighting for the rights of laborers. Sadly, most Filipinos have never heard of Itliong and other labor mobilizers who came after him in the United States and the Philippines.
Itliong was born in the Philippines in 1913 and immigrated to the United States in 1929. He faced the brutal reality of constant discrimination and exploitation as a migrant farmworker on the West Coast. He was deeply involved in union organizing since the 1930s from as far away as Alaska and Washington; he was a key figure in Filipino-American labor activism. He co-founded the Agricultural Workers Organizing Committee (AWOC), a predominantly Filipino union. He fought tirelessly for better wages, working conditions, and dignity for those laboring in the fields.
In 1965, he and AWOC led the Delano Grape Strike, a turning point for farmworker rights. They later joined forces with Cesar Chavez’s National Farm Workers Association, forming the United Farm Workers. Itliong’s leadership was crucial in the early success of the strike.
It’s time to inject empathy back into Labor Day. Beyond statistics and policies, we need to truly understand the sacrifices and aspirations of working people, the very “salt of the earth,” who keep our society moving. What we can do, especially the younger generations: (1) read about Itliong and be proud and inspired; (2) help amplify workers’ voices—seek out stories, not just statistics; (3) join grassroots movements and support labor groups in their ongoing advocacies; (4) raise awareness of workers’ rights and the history of the labor movement; and (5) make conscious choices—support ethical brands who prioritize fair labor practices. Let’s shake off advocacy fatigue. The fight for a just world for workers is like janitorial work. It is an everyday task.
doyromero@gmail.com