PCC Is Sending Workers Home Over Watermelon Pins Again — This Time, Union-Branded Ones

It’s happening again. 

The bosses at Puget Consumers Co-op (PCC) are once again sending workers home from their shifts at the Greenlake Village location for wearing watermelon pins, a symbol commonly associated with Palestine. But this time, managers are dismissing workers for wearing union-branded watermelon pins — disciplining workers for insignia that workers argue is explicitly permitted under PCC policy and protected by federal labor law.

Not only that, the crackdown raises questions about the bounds of PCC’s progressive credentials when it comes to what political causes and speech the co-op deems appropriate for the workplace. 

PCC kicked off its second wave of purging the watermelon symbol late last month when PCC President and CEO Krishnan Srinivasan sent an email  to workers, demanding that they comply with appearance standards, which prohibits political expression in their uniform. 

“I know that social and political issues can affect each of us in very personal ways, whether they are happening locally, across our country or around the world,” Srinivasan wrote. “At the same time, when we come to work, we share a responsibility to create a professional, inclusive and welcoming environment that is rooted in our co-op’s mission and upholds our Statement of Equity and Inclusion which is posted in all stores.”

In the email, Srinivasan said he “noticed” some workers “wearing items expressing political views or affiliations while on the clock.” He didn’t specify the items he believed violated appearance standards, which left some workers confused whether or not this directive applied to the union-branded watermelon stickers many workers started wearing earlier this year. 

As The Burner previously reported, workers started wearing UFCW 3000-branded stickers after management allegedly told Greenlake PCC worker Ali Zaidi to remove a pin in the shape of a watermelon, just one of many he wore everyday to work for months. 

The watermelon pin, as well as many others he wore, technically violates PCC's employee handbook which only allows for PCC pins, union-branded pins, and pins representing PCC vendors. Their appearance standards also prohibit clothing that expresses political sentiment, excluding those that support Black Lives Matter. Still, zeroing in on Zaidi’s watermelon pin struck him and many of his co-workers as selective enforcement, especially considering how rarely anyone followed these pin rules. 

At the time, Zaidi decided to remove the button and return to work. Still, the incident kicked off a small yet disciplined movement to continue to wear watermelon pins at PCC — now not just in solidarity with Palestine, but in solidarity with their co-worker who they felt had been unfairly targeted. PCC sent at least two workers home for multiple days. 

In response, the workers' union, UFCW 3000 printed watermelon stickers with their logo attached. The union-branded pins appeared to allow workers to keep wearing their watermelons to support Zaidi’s political speech while in compliance with the PCC employee handbook. Afterall, it’s a union-branded pin, explicitly used to express solidarity for a workplace dispute. It also sets up an argument to protect the stickers under Section 7 of the National Labor Relations Act, which prohibits employers from wearing union buttons, t-shirts, or other union insignia, though restrictions apply. 

For several weeks, workers wore their union-branded watermelons without issue.

So when Srinivasan’s email hit workers' inboxes, Greenlake worker Maddy Olson assumed she could continue to wear her union pin in solidarity with her co-worker. So, Olson and others wore their pins to their next shifts.

The days following the email, managers went around the store and checked for watermelon-wearers. Olson told The Burner that one of her store managers approached her and asked her to remove the pin. Olson tried to get the manager to explain how the pin was political.

“Because to me, it's like just a piece of fruit, and it's in solidarity with my coworker, who I feel like is being unfairly targeted,” Olson said in a phone call with The Burner. 

Another worker, Jason Taylor, told The Burner a similar story. He also told his manager that he didn’t believe the pin qualified as political — he wore it as a union pin. 

When a manager told Zaidi to take off his pin, he told them no. 

“I told them that I'm not going to be taking it off and that I believe that what PCC is doing is not right,” Zaidi told The Burner. 

He took issue with PCC trying to dictate what is and is not “political.” For example, PCC explicitly allows Black Lives Matter pins because they consider that a “human rights” issue, not a “political” one. Zaidi and many others see a watermelon, a symbol for solidarity with the Palestinian people who face genocide, as a nod to a human rights issue as well. 

Zaidi got sent home that day — and another, and another, and so on. The bosses have also sent other workers home for days in a row, some are even approaching their final warnings and could face termination, sources say. 

PCC did not respond to The Burner's request for comments.

For PCC customers and co-op members who believe workers should be able to wear the watermelon pin on the clock, there are several ways to show support. Workers recently launched a GoFundMe to help employees who have lost wages after being repeatedly sent home from their shifts.

UFCW 3000 is also encouraging supporters to contact PCC directly. 

“We know many PCC co-op members don’t want their co-op to treat its workers unfairly, and we also know those members have a powerful voice that administrators and managers really listen to,” UFCW 3000 spokesperson Rich Smith* told The Burner. “Right now, we’re inviting them to use that voice by dropping a watermelon emoji  in the co-op’s feedback form along with a brief message of support for workers who were simply standing up in solidarity with one of their coworkers.”

For workers facing lost pay and the possibility of further discipline, those small acts of solidarity could make a meaningful difference.

*Disclosure: Rich Smith was once my boss. Famously, I am now a reporter without a boss.