May 2025
To My Union Family,
I know you’re scared. I know you’re tired. And I know some of you are wondering if this was all a mistake. I feel that weight too—the uncertainty, the tension, the fear for our families, our futures, and our livelihoods. These are not easy days—and I won’t pretend otherwise. I’m right here with you.
Strikes test everything: our resolve, our relationships, our patience. They reveal cracks—not just in the company, but sometimes in ourselves and each other. That’s why we have to hold the line not just with our picket signs, but with compassion, with unity, and with the understanding that solidarity is our most powerful weapon.
You’re showing up every day. You’re standing out there in the cold, while Raytheon hides behind desks and screens, protected by billion-dollar bank accounts. They’re pretending we don’t exist. They are trying to outlast us. They believe if they starve us—financially, emotionally—we’ll fold. They think fear will break us.
They are betting that you will crack. Because if they can break you, they win. They know the union isn’t some building or committee—it’s you. Every person they wear down, every spirit they crush, is a win for them. That’s how they try to kill the union: one broken worker at a time.
They don’t see the people behind the work. They don’t see the moms and dads, the veterans, the second-chancers, the people who’ve given decades of their lives. To them, we’re line items. Disposable. Replaceable.
And when we finally stood up and said, “No more— we need job security, we need a future,” they slammed the door and blamed us for the mess they made.
So now the pressure’s building. The silence is deafening. It’s no surprise that some are asking the hard questions: Was this the right move? Is the union doing enough?
I hear that too. Some of you might even be thinking this is the union’s fault. But remember: you are the union.
The negotiating committee wants to get back to the table. That’s why Bob changed the captain assignments—so the committee can return at a moment’s notice. They’re not sitting comfortably while we struggle. They’re our siblings—just regular people we trusted and elected—doing their best, feeling the same fear, facing the same uncertainty. They are us.
We all knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Raytheon is a war machine. They build missiles. They’ve got billions. They can buy lawyers, lobbyists, and politicians.
But they can’t buy your courage.
I know this hurts. I know some of you are on the edge—bills stacking up, families asking questions, and the company’s silence growing louder by the day. You have every right to be angry. You have every right to be afraid.
But don’t turn that anger on each other. Don’t let fear divide us. That’s exactly what Raytheon wants. That’s how they win.
Direct that anger where it belongs: at the company.
We are not powerless. We are not alone.
We are the ones who build their products. We make the gears turn. We create their profits.
Raytheon is counting on fear. They’re betting on division. They want us to turn on each other, to lose faith, to walk away before they have to give an inch. That’s how they’ve always won.
But this time, we are stronger.
We have something they’ll never understand: each other.
No union can promise a quick victory. But we can promise this:
We will not stop fighting. We will not back down. And we will not leave anyone behind.
If you’re scared, if you’re angry, if you’re struggling, come to the hall and talk to your fellow brothers, sisters and siblings. This is not the time to go quiet. This is the time to stand tall, to speak louder, to remember exactly why we’re here.
I won’t lie and tell you this will be over tomorrow. I won’t offer empty promises or act like this isn’t hard.
But I will tell you this:
You are not forgotten. You are not alone. And this union—your union—will not stop fighting.
What you’re doing is hard.
It’s brave.
And it matters.
Hold the line. Lean on each other. And remember who you are.
We’re in this together. We stay in it together.
And together—we win.
With all the grit and fire I’ve got,
Ella Sinclair
Union Provocateur
LL 1746
