“Every Step Has Value”

Of all the forms of activism, one of the most challenging—especially in our contentious times—is to serve as an elected or appointed official. Being in the public eye and helping people find common ground are never easy, so we wanted to know what inspired and sustains AFT leaders who have taken on higher offices. To find out, we spoke with Julie Blaha, Montserrat Garibay, Jan Hochadel, and Brandon Johnson.

Julie Blaha was elected state auditor of Minnesota in 2018. Her previous positions include middle school math teacher, president of Anoka-Hennepin Education Minnesota, and secretary-treasurer of the Minnesota AFL-CIO. Montserrat Garibay is the assistant deputy secretary and director of the US Department of Education’s Office of English Language Acquisition. National Board–certified, she was a bilingual prekindergarten teacher, the vice president for certified employees with Education Austin, and the secretary-treasurer of the Texas AFL-CIO. Jan Hochadel has been the president of AFT Connecticut since 2015 and became a Connecticut state senator in 2022. After working as an engineer, she taught physics and science at technical high schools and served as the president of the State Vocational Federation of Teachers. Brandon Johnson was elected mayor of Chicago in 2023. He began his career as a public school teacher at Jenner Academy in Cabrini-Green and then at Westinghouse College Prep on the West Side, which inspired him to become an organizer with the Chicago Teachers Union in 2011 and take on a career in electoral politics as a Cook County commissioner in 2018.

–EDITORS

EDITORS: How did you initially become active in your community?

BRANDON JOHNSON: I am the son of a pastor, a union worker, and one of 10 siblings; public service has always been a part of me because it is part of the foundation upon which I was raised. Service is inextricable from my faith, and when my parents decided to start their own church, the activation of community service was a requirement. That work of service and being responsible for one another was deeply embedded throughout my entire family.

As a public school teacher in Cabrini-Green—described as a tale of two cities where, on one side, you see the promise and opportunity of downtown Chicago, and on the other, the destructive remains of disinvestment—I experienced firsthand the long-term impact of school closures, unemployment, and gun violence on my students and our communities, and I saw the lack of people in positions of power fighting to change these harsh realities. This is what inspired me to become an organizer in the Chicago Teachers Union. As an organizer, it took the collective power of our diverse community to create the spaces we wanted to see. Together, we defended neighborhood schools from privatization, reduced high-stakes standardized testing, and expanded access to state funding so that students would get the education they deserve in well-resourced classrooms that focus on each student’s potential.

JULIE BLAHA: I had a few formative experiences as an adolescent that pointed me toward activism. I grew up in rural Burns Township, Minnesota (now called Nowthen). When I was 11, my mother decided we needed our roads paved, so she got herself appointed to the Road and Bridge Committee. She was the first woman to serve in an appointed or elected position in Burns Township, and she got our roads paved. Then, because it was no longer so dusty, my friend from down the street could ride her bike even though she had asthma. And Mr. Lane, everybody’s grandpa, was back on his porch with his oxygen tank. I saw how important being involved in local government is.

When I was 14, a neighbor went to the Democratic National Convention. After I asked her what it was like, she got me a job with the state Democratic party (the DFL in Minnesota) conducting telephone surveys. I thought that was so glamorous. I’m really glad I started with one of the hardest jobs in politics—and I didn’t realize how hard it was.

One more formative experience as a teen was attending my precinct caucuses for extra credit in social studies. The caucus chair said, “We need vice chairs,” then he just stared at my mom and me. That’s when I first learned the power of the ask. Don’t ever say no for somebody else; go ask.

Once I became a teacher, I saw just how important politics is. Every single thing in your classroom is touched by some elected leader—every pencil, every pet rabbit is determined by the decisions of elected leaders.

My first year of teaching, a friend was the union elections chair. She asked me to help count ballots. As we counted, we also talked about the day-to-day work of the union, which drew me in. I took over the elections chair position, then became the government operations chair and started coordinating our work with the Minnesota AFL-CIO. Building those connections was crucial; I learned so much about organizing from other unions that I brought back to my local.

I really got deeply involved in my local and the state labor movement when I became the political director of my local. I learned how to talk to legislators. More importantly, I learned how to get other members to talk to legislators. Educators will stand up for their students, but they usually don’t want to be involved in politics. I had to show them that politics was the way to get their great ideas into action. Teachers will do anything to help their students be successful. Well, this is one of those anythings: go to the legislature and ask for what your students need.

JAN HOCHADEL: I wish I’d had experiences like those growing up; for me, activism began when I became an educator. At the beginning of my career I was an engineer, then I became a high school science teacher at J.M. Wright Technical High School in Stamford, Connecticut. Very early on, maybe my second year, somebody asked me to be a building representative for the State Vocational Federation of Teachers (SVFT). I’ll be honest: I had no idea what that even meant. But I said, “Eh, OK, I’ll try it.”

The SVFT represents educators in technical high schools across the state. Unfortunately, my school was about an hour from the union headquarters, so I had to learn how to be a building rep over the phone. Several years later, the mayor of Stamford decided to close my school. That made me angry, but what made me furious was that my union president wasn’t fighting it because relatively few students were enrolled. But I was thinking about the students in front of me, wondering what would happen to them—and to my colleagues.

A few of us decided to fight. We became friends with the state legislature’s speaker of the House, who helped us hold a rally. We emailed, called, and wrote to legislators, and we got media attention. That’s when I started to understand the power of numbers.

At the end of the day, our school was closed. Some people lost their jobs. I was transferred to another school. That summer, my union’s vice president retired, and I ran for her position. My platform pledge was that I would never let another school close under my watch.

I was elected in August 2009. In November, the governor made budgetary cuts across the board, including cutting our licensed practical nurse program for adults. As promised, we fought back. And after we showed the state legislature what the true cost of cutting this program would be, they reinstated it. Even better, we won legislation declaring that no technical school could be closed without legislative approval. That was hard fought. Even though it was our introduction to the legislative process, we were the driving force behind it. We learned from other union leaders in the state, then we taught our members how to testify and to contact their legislators by email and phone.

So that was the start of my activism. I guess it’s not uncommon: something makes you angry, so you get involved. You are motivated to make your voice heard and make a change. Some of our best activists come out of really difficult situations. I’ve thought about that as a union leader. When I’m confronted by an angry member, I see a powerful activist. I ask them, “What do you want to do? How much are you willing to put yourself out there?” And then we work together so they have the confidence and the knowledge to be successful.

MONTSERRAT GARIBAY: I joined Education Austin, which is affiliated with the AFT and the National Education Association (NEA), on my first day of work during orientation. In college, I was an active member of my community and advocated for undocumented students and families, and I would see Education Austin members at many of the community meetings. When I became a member, the then-president of the union, Louis Malfaro, came to my campus and asked me to have a one-on-one meeting during lunch. We spoke for 30 minutes about my personal story and the issues that were affecting our school district. He then invited me to attend the monthly union meetings. Eventually, I became the steward of my campus. I would welcome teachers, put the monthly newsletter in the teachers’ boxes, sign up new members, and attend monthly meetings and the lobby days at the capitol. I enjoyed learning how decisions were made at the district level and loved the fact that we were fed dinner and lunch while meeting other teachers.

As a pre-K bilingual teacher, I became the chair of my union’s Pre-K Committee. When the state cut funding for full-day pre-K programs, our committee focused on advocacy. For months, we worked in collaboration with other teachers, parents, professors, early childhood organizations, and community members to advocate for a high-quality, full-day pre-K program. Parents, teachers, and advocates met with school board members and the superintendent to share the importance and positive impact of the program. After many months of organizing, the school district voted to fund the full-day pre-K program even though the state had cut the funding. That experience transformed my  way of thinking and taught me the importance of organizing to achieve better outcomes for my community.

EDITORS: What are some of the challenges you faced and the lessons you learned as union leaders?

JAN: Once I became president of SVFT, we started focusing on the structure of our schools, making sure there were reps in every building and regular union meetings. It was important to me that we were training the reps to do the work, with SVFT there to help as needed. Through my involvement with the AFT’s national staff and with AFT locals in other states, I learned about the organizing model of engaging members and cultivating leadership throughout the union.

Then, when the Friedrichs lawsuit threatened to take away the fees that ensure everyone who benefits from union work pays their fair share, I thought we needed to prepare workers across Connecticut. But the state federation president did not agree—and that’s why I ran against her. Within six months of becoming the president of AFT Connecticut in May 2015, I was working with AFT staff to mobilize and organize locals throughout the state. So when the US Supreme Court decided Janus in 2018, taking away fair-share fees, we were prepared.

When I took over AFT Connecticut, it was a staff-run federation. One of the first things I did was make two huge banners that hung outside my office; they asked, “What have you done for the members today?” and “What have you done for the movement today?” In staff meetings, I encouraged people to answer those questions at the end of every day. For some people, this shift in our priorities wasn’t a good fit. I never fired anyone, but about a third of the staff turned over during my first couple of years. They were accustomed to the service model of unionism, which solves problems for members but doesn’t center on member activism. I have long been dedicated to the organizing model, which is about helping members find their voice and fighting together for what they value. For the union, transitioning from the service model to the organizing model is really about going from somebody else making decisions for you to making your own decisions.

One thing people don’t tell you is you don’t have to do everything yourself. Surround yourself with people who have the same morals and values—that doesn’t mean they always agree with you. Finding people who will say no to you, who will challenge you, but who share your goals is one of the wisest things that union leaders can do.

JULIE: I became the union president in 2010 and served for four years. It was a tumultuous time. Tragically, several LGBTQIA+ students had committed suicide, and the district was sued for not creating a safe and welcoming environment. In addition, both the US Department of Justice and the US Department of Education were investigating conditions in the district. At the same time, our state funding formula forced us to seek local levies, so we needed to maintain strong community support. The school board tried to ignore the LGBTQIA+ bullying and pretend they were isolated incidents. The whole situation was deeply toxic, but of course our local was committed to supporting our students and their families. Having a larger labor movement to support my local was huge. The Minnesota AFL-CIO, Education Minnesota, and the national AFT provided on-the-ground support throughout this crisis.

So one lesson is that you are not alone—especially if you ask for help. One thing I wish I had known earlier is how important it is for us to ask each other to do things. When you ask someone to take on a new role or run for an office, the worst thing that might happen is that they say no and are deeply honored by your ask. So, worst-case scenario, you make somebody’s day and have to go find somebody else. There’s huge power in that. You can start with simple asks—like when I was asked to help count ballots.

Another lesson is that every step has value. The first time I ran for president of my local union, I lost. That was really helpful because I learned how to try something and lose, and then try again and win. But even without winning, in the act of running you gain so much power to do good. In every election, win or lose, I made connections, picked up skills, and got my message out. Years ago, I also ran for president of the Minnesota AFL-CIO. I didn’t win that either, but the loss helped me when I ran—successfully—for secretary-treasurer.

It took a lot of the pressure off when I realized that running is not simply about getting votes. It’s about building your community, sharing a message that people need to hear, and giving people hope. You are doing something good for the world at every step, and there’s such joy in that—it gets you through tough times.

That’s true for the whole team, not just the candidate. When you’re involved, you’re part of something bigger and helping people even when you don’t know it. Maybe a woman at the grocery store sees your pin for a pro-choice candidate, and now she knows that somebody else understands her and respects her freedom over her own body. Maybe a student needs to see your social media post supporting trans kids because they are thinking about how they’re going to come out. These are things that you’re doing for your whole community.

The best thing I learned in union activism is that everything forward is forward. Every step has value; every step builds power. Don’t get hung up on the endgame; you’re doing good through the whole process.

EDITORS: How do you think of activism, especially union activism?

MONTSERRAT: Activism is essential in our lives. Everyone can practice activism in their communities, schools, workplaces, or where they are. I strongly believe in the power of people working together for a common goal.

During my first years as a union member, I learned about the importance of civic participation, networking, and building relationships. At the time, I was a permanent resident and was fascinated by how elected officials are elected. I attended union meetings to learn about the candidates, volunteered in many campaigns, and often recruited other members to volunteer for campaigns. When I became a citizen, I was delighted to cast my first vote.

After I had been the steward of my campus for a number of years, I was asked to run to be the vice president for certified employees of Education Austin. I ran against a member who had held the position for many years. Being bilingual helped me to connect with teacher assistants, custodians, cafeteria workers, and clerks. I would visit different campuses after school and hold union meetings—I enjoyed meeting members and learning the issues that they were facing. When I was elected vice president in June 2012, I went back to thank the union members who voted for me, and we became very close. They appreciated that I was accessible and started working on the issues they were dealing with, especially the Spanish-speaking members. I was very proud that we passed a policy to have directives also written in Spanish for the classified staff so they could understand why they were directed to follow certain protocols. We also passed a district policy to allow employees to have the day off if they were attending their citizenship ceremony.

I saw firsthand how the lives of our members were getting better because of the work that we did as a union. When I became vice president of Education Austin, I wrote several grant applications to the AFT and the NEA to host citizenship clinics. Over five years, we hosted more than 10 citizenship clinics and helped several hundred union members—such as custodians, bus drivers, and teachers—and community members become citizens. That was a grassroots effort that transformed the lives of many union members.

BRANDON: I believe in what the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said in 1965 when he addressed the Illinois AFL-CIO convention and talked about the potential combined strength of the labor movement and the civil rights movement.* Allow me to share a long quote:

It is not a coincidence that the Labor Movement and the Civil Rights Movement have the same essential origins. Each is a movement that grew out of burning needs of an oppressed poor for security and equality. Each was denied justice by the dominant forces of society and had to win a place in the sun by its own intense struggle and indescribable self-sacrifice.

The labor and civil rights movements reshaped our nation and showed the potent power of our combined strength. We all are here because of the work of giants who came before us, without whom this day would not be possible. As history has shown us, when we come together, we show up with the belief of what unites us and how our differences are what make us who we are. There is no limit to what we can achieve when we do it together. I have committed most of my professional career to fighting for the labor movement, and I have committed my entire life to fighting for Black liberation. I see the two struggles as interconnected, and I will always consider myself to have a foot in both movements.

One of the ways I am continuing to move the needle forward in this work is by focusing on mental health. My brother Leon was my hero and is my motivation. A husband and father, he struggled with mental illness and died addicted and unhoused because he couldn’t find the care he needed. Through our Treatment Not Trauma ordinance, we’re reopening community-based clinics and dedicating 80 additional mental health positions to alleviate the pressure on our first responders. These teams are part of our public health department because mental health crises deserve trauma-informed responses. Our ultimate goal is to provide mental health services without barriers. Whenever, wherever, and however individuals and families need these services, the city of Chicago should show up for them.

EDITORS: What spurred you to take on a higher office?

JULIE: In 2018, we knew that our longtime state auditor was running for governor, and so I was helping recruit someone to run for state auditor. Then one day, Anna Brelje, Education Minnesota’s political action coordinator, turned to me and said, “We should be recruiting you.”

She started gathering support and raising money for my campaign before I committed to running. I knew my union had resources to help people win because I’d been one of those volunteers who helped other people win. Being asked by my union to run was powerful. But what really propelled me to run was seeing what then-President Trump was doing to labor, people of color, women, new Americans, and even students.

In Minnesota, the state auditor oversees over $60 billion of government activity through examinations, including audits and investigations, and legal compliance checks. We offer local officials direct support—including budgeting tools, trainings, and one-on-one coaching—because we want local governments to be successful. A lot of financial data are reported to us; we put it together in context to help local governments make decisions based on facts.

You can do this auditor job a couple of ways. You can be a “gotcha” auditor, which is how many auditors have functioned. But that’s not how educators think. I’m invested in the success of all of us. As the state’s watchdog, I’m a golden Labrador. I am loyal and caring, but I have a bite if I need it. I am dedicated to your success, and I’m going to protect the people of the state of Minnesota.

Much like when I was a union leader, I find joy in supporting people’s ideas. Elected officials have problems they want to solve, and the office of the auditor shares their ideas across the state. Crucially—just as in education—we also help with implementation. As a union leader, I spent most of my time focusing on implementation because that was where the action was. In this position, what keeps me going is knowing just how deeply important it is to our students that our state and local governments work well.

BRANDON: After several years as an organizer, I looked at pushing into the political space to be more responsive to the people I made myself accountable to—the individuals and families I was and am still fighting for. My commitment to them and dedication to service spurred me on every step of the way, and I have never lost sight of that.

In 2018, when I was elected commissioner of the 1st District of Cook County, I led the effort to pass the Just Housing Ordinance, which prohibited housing discrimination against formerly incarcerated people. By the time it took effect at the end of 2019, I was proud to see political action improve people’s lives. It guided my work as a commissioner to continue finding ways the government could work for the people, which led to my collaboration with my colleagues to address issues within our criminal justice system that contributed to racial profiling, secure legal representation for immigrants facing deportation, and advance recognition of Indigenous Peoples’ Day.

At the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, I convened a statewide Save Our Seniors response to the crisis in under-resourced nursing homes. Then, to support and act on the values embedded in the civil uprisings of the summer of 2020, I organized the Cook County Board of Commissioners to commit to a Budget for Black Lives, which brought new investments in healthcare, public transportation, internet access, and affordable housing. But I knew the work didn’t stop there. There were still so many inequities impacting our communities, from overpolicing to the lack of youth engagement, that spurred me to run for mayor in 2022.

As mayor, I’m proud to report that we are working to change these realities by investing in people. One of the best investments we can make into the future of our city is empowering our young people. Our administration has mobilized across all platforms, utilizing our city departments, sister agencies, unions, community organizations, businesses, and more to provide thousands of young people with paid work experience during the summer. When we talk about investing in youth employment, we are really talking about investing in public safety, workforce development, poverty alleviation, economic growth, and so much more.

The power of community working together to uphold equity, justice, and fairness through service brings out the very best in all of us. I have seen its snowball effect across this city, and I know it is the engine toward our future of a better, stronger, safer Chicago.

JAN: Like Julie, I was pushed and pulled into running. I’ve long been friends with Danté Bartolomeo, who is now the commissioner of labor in Connecticut. She used to hold the state Senate seat that I now have (which covers Meriden and parts of Cheshire, Middletown, and Middlefield) and was a great advocate for the technical schools. Unfortunately, she lost her 2016 Senate election to a Republican. In 2022, I was helping Danté and Meriden’s Democratic Town Committee chair find someone to run. After a teacher we were enthusiastic about decided against it, they asked me to run. I was hesitant, but Danté convinced me that I’d still be helping my members. I knew Danté and the job she did as a state senator well, so that made this seem doable.

At times, I worry that I’m not able to do both my jobs well, but ultimately both positions have the same goal: ensuring working people are protected and have the benefits they need. Being a state senator is a continuation of unionism focused on getting all community members to be activists and meeting people wherever they are for the betterment of everyone. The more people we have involved, the better off everyone is.

MONTSERRAT: My own experience and personal story spurred me to do more. As an undocumented immigrant who came to the United States as a very young child not speaking a word of English, I learned the importance of giving back. Throughout my life, I had many people who helped me learn English, find my first job, and apply for college; people also loaned me money to buy my first car, gave me words of encouragement, and mentored me. I was lucky to have a strong support system. As I grew older, I felt a sense to give back. And, when I joined my union, I learned the importance of solidarity. I learned that to create change, we need to work together.

When I was in college, my mentor teacher, who taught in the same district, told me that if I was going to be teaching in the Austin Independent School District, I needed to join Education Austin. As a good student, that is exactly what I did as soon as I got hired. Organized labor can get better results for everyone. Our union was able to get better salaries, professional development programs for educators and paraprofessionals, stronger public schools, more community schools, and stronger policies for programs such as National Board Certification, bilingual education, and arts for students, among other things.

A year later, I learned to organize more deeply in my school when I filed my first grievance. I taught in a pre-K Demonstration School, and we had over 20 bilingual classrooms with more than 26 students per class, while the regular classes each had only 12 students. Our school needed to hire more bilingual teachers, but the principal refused because it meant losing regular classes. I remember attending one of the monthly union meetings where we learned that the district had passed classroom ratios for students in pre-K. The district put a limit of 20 students per class to ensure that students were getting a quality education. I took the district policy to the principal, and she said that there was nothing she could do. So, I reached out to the union and shared what was taking place in our school; my union representative mentioned that we could file a grievance to get more bilingual teachers. She explained the process, including that we needed to get teachers to sign the grievance in less than 10 working days and that we would present the grievance in a hearing with human resources. I started organizing and meeting with teachers after school. We got my colleagues to sign the grievance with over 75 percent of the school staff, and we won! Our school was given more bilingual teachers, our class size was lowered to 20 students, and as a result, our students were able to receive a better education. Mobilizing and winning gave me hope that we could change more things in our schools. I realized the importance of knowing policies and that having a union helped us create better working conditions.

My current position is assistant deputy secretary and director for the Office of English Language Acquisition at the US Department of Education. Building relationships and collaborating have been key in this role, and I use the skills I learned when I was organizing every single day. Since my first day, I have reached out to the different career staff and political appointees, and I have introduced myself and scheduled meetings to learn about their jobs and how we can collaborate. And for the past three years, I have kept building relationships and working in collaboration to raise the bar.

EDITORS: What do you wish you had known earlier in your career?

JAN: At each step of my career—when I first became a building rep, then SVFT president, and state federation president—I felt like I had to do it all by myself. But each time I saw how important it is to get other people involved. These aren’t jobs in which you can make mistakes—people can get hurt. But when you do get it right and you see those wins, it propels you to want to do more. Set yourself up for success by not doing it all. Involve others. Help them grow and find their voice. You’ll have more successes, and the union will be stronger.

This is a lesson I learned while teaching—I just didn’t realize how directly it applies until recently. When I was learning to teach, I threw lots of information at students, hoping some of it would stick. With experience, I saw that the students learn so much more when they teach each other. That’s my real lesson: give everybody else the tools to help all of us succeed.

JULIE: I agree. As I said before, you are not alone—especially if you ask others to help. I’ll add that we need more educators in government. Being an educator gives you all kinds of skills to run for office and be effective in office. We keep things organized. We can deal with unusual behavior. We roll with changes. And we deeply understand one of the most important things government does: public education. For educators, real community building is baked into our mindset, and I think government needs more of that.

MONTSERRAT: Starting out, I would have wanted to know more about how to be even more engaged. I remember that my first year of teaching was overwhelming with meetings, professional development, parent conferences, grades, etc. It wasn’t until my third year—after winning the class-size grievance in my second year—that I got more involved. During my third year, I felt more comfortable in my role and was starting to provide professional development for new teachers—and I learned that there were other issues that were affecting our schools. For instance, the district wanted to reduce the number of arts and music classes and custodians in the schools because of budget cuts. I also started to meet more educators at different campuses because I started to attend the monthly union meetings. My third year is when I became the steward at my campus and the chair of the Pre-K Committee.

BRANDON: I was very intentional about considering my run for mayor and tried to cover every base on what my family and I could expect. It would have been nice to get a heads up on the adjustment from wearing hoodies and driving around in an old Jeep to wearing suits and being driven by security detail. I decided to run for mayor because I wanted to make a difference in my community. I saw what we were lacking, what we needed, and most importantly, what we could do to change this reality through public service. My advice is to look within your community at how injustice impacts you and allow your lived experience to motivate you to change it. I’m not saying it will be easy.

The seismic shift from where I was just a handful of years ago to now and the impact of being one of the only mayors elected without ties to the political establishment or machine are things no amount of explaining or researching prepares you for. But I am here, and a number of movements—civil rights, public education, social justice, labor, faith—are here with me. So, let’s get to work.

*To read Dr. King’s full remarks, see go.aft.org/e36. (return to article)

[photos: Courtesy of Julie Blaha; Courtesy of Montserrat Garibay;  Courtesy of Jan Hochadel; Courtesy of Brandon Johnson; and AFT]