Twenty-three days after effectively securing a seat for himself in Congress, Greg Casar, a 32-year-old ex-Austin City Council member, strode up to a gray strip-mall Starbucks in north San Antonio carrying a black bullhorn. It was his first public event after cruising to victory in the March 1 Democratic primaries, and this was one of four Starbucks in Texas where workers had joined a nationwide wave of union organizing. Casar was scheduled to visit them all that day. He wore dress shoes, slacks, and a ratty, old AFL-CIO t-shirt his fiancée had found at a nearby thrift shop. Surrounded by a state senator and a couple dozen labor activists and political candidates, Casar reframed Texas history through the bullhorn.
“A lot of people think of Rick Perry or Greg Abbott or Dan Patrick when they talk about Texas, but … I think of Barbara Jordan, I think of LBJ, I think about Roe v. Wade, I think about Emma Tenayuca and the pecan shellers’ union, and now I increasingly think about the workers organizing here at Starbucks,” he said, before deploying his favorite stump speech tagline: “Because to me, Texas is not a corporate state, it is not a red state, it is an under-organized state.”
The plan Casar’s team hatched was to file into the coffee shop and order under names like “union strong” or “union yes” so the staff would essentially be calling out support for the organizers with each latte and pastry. To fire up the crowd before going in, Casar launched into a Jody call: “I don’t know but I’ve been told,” he bellowed, “Unions here are pretty bold.” As he repeated the chant, Casar evinced no irony—no sense that he was a politician play-acting at activism—rather, he seemed to be entering his element.
