Anthony Marcel, a janitor here at UConn, faces a possible layoff after budget cuts.

As union and company debate possible layoffs, janitor just hopes to pay the bills

By: Christopher Duray

Posted: 11/20/08

Around midnight, looking up at the industrial off-white ceiling of the UConn field house where he works as a janitor, 56-year-old Anthony Marcel contemplated cowboys.

"If I had to pick my favorite western stars," he said, "John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, Audie Murphy - not the black comedian, a different person - oh, and that other guy, I forget his name."

He rubbed his wrinkling black chin and smiled broadly, thinking back to the films of his childhood in St. Lucia and revealing the dark gap of a missing tooth, the long -lost casualty of an aggressive rugby scrum.

"Yul Brynner!" he finally said. "I like Yul Brynner. I prefer him in Roman movies, though. He had a Roman movie, 'Taras Bulba?' Something like that."

Marcel is one of 26 janitors at UConn who may face layoffs by the end of the year. It's a possibility he's especially worried about since, without a UConn paycheck, he won't be able to keep up with the mortgage payments on his house in Hartford and at his late age and this poor economy, he doubts he would be able to find a job that would let him retire at an acceptable age.

The threat of firings has loomed large since early in the year, although the company that manages some of UConn's janitors, GCA Services Inc., hasn't fully committed to layoffs. They're still in discussions with the Service Employees International Union (SEIU) over the matter, but when the company was hired in December 2007, the university, on the advice of an efficiency consultant, made staff reduction a requirement in their contract. At the time, all parties, including SEIU, seemed satisfied that it could be done easily and humanely by the process of attrition, that is, that when workers quit their jobs, no new staff are hired to replace them.

Then the stock market plummeted, and with $12.1 million cut from UConn's budget, the prospect of layoffs seemed a lot more likely.

SEIU immediately began drumming up support among the students, and lobbying to save the janitors' jobs. GCA began quietly insisting that the union is misrepresenting them, since no layoffs have officially been declared. Meanwhile, university spokespeople have tried washing their hands of the problem by labeling it a private labor dispute between GCA and SEIU.

With politics and discussions shooting between the three groups, its easy to forget exactly who is standing in the middle of the dispute, from 11 p.m. to 6 a.m. every night cleaning up the trash in the hallways, raking the endless amount of leaves in front of the doorways and methodically mopping a gym. And then another gym. And then five racquetball courts, and maybe cleaning up a locker room left in disarray.

It's a tough job, but Marcel would never keep up with his mortgage payments without it. Layoffs are a real possibility and in that case, the policy is to fire workers based on seniority, with newer employees leaving first. Marcel has only worked at UConn for a year.

According to Steve Ciccone, a senior account manager for GCA, the seniority policy was a union policy designed to try to discourage more subjective firing methods. Ciccone said he would have preferred to take skill into account, which might have saved Marcel; before moving to Hartford last year, he spent a decade doing the same work in New York City.

Marcel started his life as a police constable in St. Lucia, the Caribbean island where his 25-year-old son lives today. The job didn't pay well though, and eventually, hoping to make more money, he moved to St. Croix, one of the U.S. Virgin Islands, where he was forced to find a new career.

"When you leave your country and come to another man's, it is not so easy to join their police," he said.

Eventually the work in St. Croix dried up and Anthony looked north, finding a job as a night janitor in New York City.

"I did that for about eight or nine years, but the cost of living was, at that time, cheaper here [in Connecticut]," he said. "So I bought a house here because I couldn't buy a house in New York."

Shifting from the high authority of a policeman to the somewhat lower-regarded position of custodian didn't bother Marcel. He was used to working the night beat back in St. Lucia. He liked his new work and was good at it. These days, he barely considers his old profession.

"I wouldn't say I don't miss [being a cop], but I've been out of my country for 20 years now," he said. "At this point, it doesn't bother me."

"Next year I am going to go back to visit," he said. "Maybe I'll move there when I retire."

He smiles.

"I have another 10 years to go here," he said. "If I get fired, that's a different story. I may have to sell the house, if the government doesn't seize the house because my loan is a government paid loan."

At $15.05 an hour, Marcel lives paycheck to paycheck; just enough to afford his mortgage. His wife doesn't work and recently she's been suffering chest pains.

"I've had to take my wife to the doctor's twice," Marcel said. "I still owe them a hundred and something dollar co-pay. I can't afford that right now."

If he doesn't keep his job, he says he's not sure what he'll do.

"I may have to come back up here … stand by the president's office and beg him for charity," he said. "At my age, it's too late to go and start looking for another job. I'd love doing electrical work, or even plumbing, but to start all over again is kind of rough. If I go to another job, I'd have to go for another 15 years again to get retirement and I'm 56. I have 10 more years with this union, so it's best I try to stick it out with them."

Marcel enjoys his work. He brags about how fast he can move, even with an arthritic knee. He doesn't mind the odd work hours.

"I go to bed at maybe 10 or 11 [a.m.]" he said. "I get up about 3 or 4. I take a shower, eat my dinner and then I go back and take another three-hour rest and I get up at 9 and get ready to come up here."

It's a familiar schedule, one he followed in New York and St. Lucia. He's used to it, even if it means he doesn't have time for hobbies outside of watching movies and sports.

None of Marcel's three co-workers - or even his supervisor - speak English. He communicates with them by holding up items he needs and slowly repeating key verbs. He doesn't mind.

"Just having someone around makes it cool," he said. "Even if I can't talk much to them, it just makes it cool."

Marcel doesn't even mind that in the seven hours he's at work he gets one 15-minute break and one 30-minute break. In fact, he believes that walking around so much helps the arthritis in his knee.

"If you are an experienced worker, you know how to do your work to finish ahead of time so you have a little time to lay back on your own," he said.

The only part of Marcel's job that does get to him is the disarray he sometimes finds the locker rooms in.

"It doesn't always get so dirty, but sometimes, especially when they lose their event, they spread everything all over the goddamned place," he said. "But it's not bad working here. Honestly, it's not bad working here. The only problem we have are these 26 people they want to drop off the staff."

He does have concerns about the company, if not the work. He's very critical of the GCA sick day policy (no pay on sick days and a demerit if one takes three sick days within 30 days), and thinks that the salary should be higher (GCA employees get paid $5 dollars an hour less than some of the other, state hired janitors who clean the residence halls), and the inefficient SEIU health care plan he's on may run out next year, even if he keeps his job. But at the end of the day, Marcel is just an easy-going guy, doing his work and trying to keep his house.

"I know [the university] wants to save money for themselves, but it doesn't make sense to lay off 26 people," he said. "We could never get another job in a hurry, we have kids going to school or college or, like me, we have to pay a mortgage. Where would we end up?"

Ciccone has said that he thinks janitors like Marcel are being overly, if understandably, simplistic, especially considering how much money the school has lost.

"Based on my history in the industry," Ciccone said. "When you're dealing with companies that are typically in this situation, this university is being very compassionate to everybody concerned."

"I think there's a lot to be said for the fact that everybody wants to resolve it in the right way," he said.

That goes for the students as well, many of whom have showed their support for the janitors' cause. One group, Justice for Janitors, has already held two rallies and a concert featuring Immortal Technique to raise awareness and support for the cause. They also met with Chief Operating Officer Barry Feldman to discuss the situation.

Marcel appreciates gestures like these, saying that if anything he would like more opportunities to gather the students so that the workers can address them directly.

Working late, it's understandable that Anthony doesn't get the chance to speak to too many students while he sweeps through the stark hallways of the field house, mopping the scuffed linoleum and making his way to a familiar locker room to pick up the soiled shirts and towels of some victorious sports team he's never met.

"I hardly ever see the students," he said. "Nobody ever comes this way."