What’s not to love about shopping at Trader Joe’s? The Hawaiian shirts, the free samples, the approachable staff—on the surface, it’s a fun, interactive experience.
But after working for more than three years at three different stores in Illinois, Tennessee, and Vermont, I now know the company does not treat its workers with the dignity—nor pay them the wages—they deserve. As workers at two Trader Joe’s locations—the Rockridge store in Oakland, California and the Essex Crossing store in New York City—move forward from union elections in April, it’s worth peeking behind the Hawaiian-print curtain.
Under CEO Dan Bane, Trader Joe’s crew members have endured a steady decline in real wages, benefits, and safety standards. During the pandemic, retirement contributions were slashed in half for many workers. Hazard pay was abruptly revoked. Social distancing and mask mandates were removed right as the Delta variant took off. Some workers lost their health insurance; others lost their lives.
The strict mask-wearing period of the pandemic presented a direct threat to the Trader Joe’s jovial image. Customers couldn’t see our faces, and that was bad for business. In fact, it was deemed so bad for business that corporate decided to pay us to get vaccinated. Once the federal mask mandate was dropped, Trader Joe’s followed suit—first for customers; then, weeks later, for the crew. This decision, made by Trader Joe’s higher-ups, conflicted directly with local ordinances, and the wishes of workers within the company.
The corporation’s progressive image is reinforced by the company’s so-called Core Values, most notably: integrity. All decisions, at every level, must be made in accordance with this single word. Trader Joe’s has decided that “integrity” is so crucial, they even added this line to their training manual: “Simply put, those that do not have Integrity can not be part of Trader Joe’s.”
Internally, under the president of stores, Jon Basalone, the Core Values are used primarily for discipline. Like the handbook suggests, an employee can be fired without notice if they behave in a way that is considered a violation of these values. All Trader Joe’s workers are considered at-will, which means a “captain” (boss) can decide their fate. If they want you to walk the plank, they’ll wait for you to violate value number one.
This dynamic unfolded in real time when corporate caught wind of my organizing efforts at store 527 in Burlington, Vermont.
After Trader Joe’s dropped its mask requirement, a few of us crafted a petition demanding the reinstatement of the wage increase we received when the pandemic started, as well as better benefits, and sturdier safety protocols. Our regional manager made two surprise visits to the store. He interrogated the entire crew, asking questions like, “Have you heard of anything going on that might violate our Core Values?” and “Are you completely happy at work right now?”
We presented the petition at the end of October 2021. Everyone delivering it to the captain, including me, was written up. Everyone who signed the petition received an intimidating phone call from the regional manager. Three people were denied raises because of their involvement with the petition. I was written up again for supposedly falsifying signatures. All pro-union documents were removed from the break room, but management didn’t stop there—the entire cork board was removed and our daily huddles were canceled indefinitely.
Basalone responded to our Core Value violation with a letter pointing out “additional compensation” that “we have chosen to provide” to our store’s crew members that year and the year before. “We will not be responding to the ‘demands’ in the letter,” he concluded. “To be blunt, we don’t operate this way. Our longstanding practice and policy at Trader Joe’s is to address workplace issues directly.”
Before they were canceled, the “huddles” served as an opportunity for managers to highlight one of the seven Core Values. Reading from a script, the “mates,” as the managers are nautically named, would remind the crew that “we are an integral member of the local community, our products are unique and superior, there is no bureaucracy, we live to serve the customer,” and, my personal favorite, “Trader Joe’s operates like an inverted pyramid.” This is a relatively new phenomenon within Trader Joe’s. Historically, the huddle was used to inform the crew about merchandise logistics, new products, birthdays, and upcoming events.
All pro-union documents were removed from the break room, but management didn’t stop there—the entire cork board was removed and our daily huddles were canceled indefinitely.
Huddles had also presented a convenient platform for asking pertinent questions. Used strategically, these meetings were a great opportunity to foment concerns, point out contradictions, and raise awareness among the crew. At store 527, we coordinated a handful of questions after seeing a job posting on the website Indeed.com that said our store was hiring new workers on a scale from $14 to $18 per hour. Most of the night crew made less than $17, so how was it possible that a new employee could be paid more than our crew who had years of experience under their belts? We were told that huddles are not an appropriate setting to discuss pay, safety, time off, understaffing, or politics.
Limiting what is considered acceptable speech is not a unique phenomenon at store 527. Across the country, Trader Joe’s has lashed out at crew members who dared to deviate. In Seattle, a store was closed after a group of workers participated in a demonstration following the death of George Floyd. One New York City employee, Ben Bonnema, claims he was fired for speaking out against the company’s pandemic protocols. Alex Pham, who worked at the Pasadena, California flagship store, was questioned and surveilled for coordinating an internal survey as an outlet for his coworkers to voice concerns. When I speak to Pham about this, he tells me, “They’re just acting like people who are in control—definitely a quieting of dissenting voices.”
Trader Joe’s boasts an army of both organic and paid social media partnerships—with dozens of accounts dedicated to recipes, shopping hauls, and more. The company’s reliance on third party influencers creates the illusion that Trader Joe’s is a cut above the rest. You don’t see a lot of fawning over Kroger, for example. There’s even an official podcast, Inside Trader Joe’s, supposedly looping listeners in on the inner workings of the company, further engendering brand loyalty.
Trader Joe’s is also often showcasing its robust food-donation pipeline—the company has a long-running Neighborhood Shares program to donate products past their sell-by date to food pantries. Local news channels run stories about the generous work of Trader Joe’s employees. YouTube videos with thousands of views depict colorfully dressed crew members handing out dented cans of corn, bruised apples, and boxes of cereal crushed by a forklift. It’s clear that Trader Joe’s sees this program as its shining achievement.
Zac Whidby
The letter from Trader Joe’s president of stores John Basalone to the crew at the author’s store in Burlington, Vermont.
But what’s really going on inside Trader Joe’s is a lot less friendly than this carefully honed fan-favorite image.
Many store employees, including myself, have to make ends meet with food stamps. If Trader Joe’s acknowledged this, says Maeg Yosef, an organizer with Trader Joe’s United (TJU) in Hadley, Massachusetts, “They would have to admit that they aren’t taking care of the crew like they claim to be.”
And while the company also goes out of its way to hire people from diverse backgrounds, those same workers lack critical protections once they’re hired. For example, there has been online chatter of crackdowns at various Trader Joe’s stores on employees wearing button pins indicating their pronouns.
Connor Hovey, a lead TJU organizer in Louisville, Kentucky, tells me that during his three pre-hiring interviews, “they really harped on the importance of me being queer. It did not feel genuine. The LGBTQ+ and BIPOC crew members are basically cast aside as a letterhead.” He went on to say, “Trader Joe’s cares a lot more about how it will make them look as a company. There is no inward speculation. It’s all outward projection.”
Trader Joe’s corporate has since made the buttons available after being pressured by the union.
Grassroots organizing efforts at Trader Joe’s stores directly counter the notion that it is a thoughtful, progressive company. Organizers wouldn’t have materialized if the company was, in fact, taking care of its workers.
So far, three stores are officially unionized—the store in Hadley, Massachusetts,another in Minneapolis, and now Oakland, California, in the grocery giant’s home state. Workers in Louisville, Kentucky voted to unionize in January, but the company has contested that election. With employees at the Essex Crossing store in New York City narrowly losing out in a 76-76 tie, it’s hard not to notice the momentum.
“Trader Joe’s United is definitely going to sweep the nation, no matter how long it takes,” says Hovey. “We are here to stay. We’re here to bargain. We’re here to advocate for the crew. We’re not going anywhere.”