Janitor Sweeps, Negotiates

The slow swish of Shakespeare Christmas’ broom is the only sound in Paine Concert Hall early in the morning.

At 9 a.m. Harvard’s music department has not yet filled the building with the sounds of tuning instruments and lectures.

“I get here at five o’clock every morning,” Christmas says with a soft Caribbean accent as he details his daily routine of scrubbing, dusting and vacuuming from 5 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.

“When I get here the first thing I do is take out the trash in all the offices and classrooms, then I have to wash the floors—I dry mop it, wet mop it, and buff it at least three or four times a week. I vacuum the rugs in the hall, then I do the bathrooms,” he says.

Christmas spends most of his working day in silence. For the first hours of his shift, he is the only person inside of Paine Concert Hall and continues to work alone even as morning classes begin.

Despite the solitude, the janitor says he has grown used to the pace of his day.

“There is enough work here to keep you busy,” Christmas says.

The Negotiators

Two months ago, Christmas was nominated by his fellow workers to be part of Service Employees International Union (SEIU), Local 254’s team negotiating with University for a new contract for janitors.

He has spent the last six Tuesdays in a first-floor conference room at the Sheraton Commander Hotel on Garden Street, working to hammer out a compromise on wages and benefits.

Late Wednesday night, SEIU and the University agreed on a proposal that would pay all Harvard janitors at least $11.35 per hour—a wage that will rise to $13.50 by 2005.

For Christmas, Wednesday night’s compromise will raise his pay to $11.50 per hour, the rate determined for janitors with at least three years of experience.

According to Christmas, who says he is currently making $10 per hour, this will mark the largest pay raise he has received in his six years of Harvard janitorial work.

Christmas says the agreement changed the worker perception of SEIU, a union known among workers for past mismangement and poor negotiating.

“At first [workers] were looking out for something because the old union screwed things up,” Christmas says. “They had no confidence.”

Now, Christmas says, “I see some of them already smiling, they hear the news and they can see the difference.”

With his time as a negotiator coming to a close, Christmas says he is unsure what path his role with SEIU will take. “They want me to become a shop steward,” Christmas says. “Whenever a worker has a complaint I would bring it to the union representative.”

But Christmas says he wonders if he could adapt to being responsible for other workers.

“I would have responsibility over other people—I never have that,” he says. “I work alone and don’t have to worry about that.”

Taking Care of Business

As he talks, Christmas navigates the rows of seats in Paine Concert Hall with his broom, sweeping spent pens and wrappers from the hardwood floor onto his dustpan.

He moves comfortably about the empty concert hall, with its golden-lettered names of composers atop white walls and arched windows, like so many offices and hallways.

After Christmas gets off work at 1:30 p.m., he says will head home for lunch before his 5 to 9 p.m. shift as a janitor at Children’s Hospital.

“Saturday and Sunday, those are days of rest—but only in the winter. During the summer I am out playing cricket with the guys,” Christmas says.

With the help of his wife’s income from her job as an assistant cook at a daycare center Christmas says he was able to buy a triple-decker home in Dorchester and still have enough money to pay college tuition for three children.

But Christmas says he is not without regret.

“There is nothing in this job that I like, but you craft your life around it,” he says. “I did not make use of my school days and so you end up doing this.”

Christmas says that when he came to America in 1981 from Dominica, a small island in the Caribbean, he considered going back to school.

“I thought to myself, ‘I should go to school [in America],’ but I came to the conclusion that someone had to work so my children could have a better life,” he says.

“I couldn’t work two jobs and go to classes at the same time,” Christmas says. “I had to bite the bullet to give them the opportunity. I don’t regret it.”

Christmas’ two daughters and son have all graduated from college and moved away from home.

“I feel blessed, with three beautiful kids raised in the ghetto, all have gone on through college and are on their own working for money,” he says.

As he speaks, a song played on a piano down the hall cuts the silence.

Christmas pauses for a second to listen to the music and smiles briefly before turning back down the hall and walking toward the next room.

Homeward Bound

Christmas pauses from sweeping between the rows to talk about Dominica.

He has returned home only five times in the last 21 years, including trips to bury his mother and his brother and to attend his niece’s wedding.

Christmas stops work for a moment to talk about what he hopes will be his final trip to Dominica.

“I’ll work six more years and then I’ll go back to the islands. I’ll not be up here with a dripping nose all winter,” he laughs.

Christmas says he already has a house in Dominica waiting for him—a purchase he made with money he and his wife had saved.

“So now when I go, I’ll have a place to rest my head,” he says.

—Staff writer Joseph P. Flood can be reached at flood@fas.harvard.edu.