opinion

Is 2018 the year Burning Man starts doing right by its workers?: Reeder

I worked for Burning Man’s Department of Public Works from 2005 to 2015. It was one of the single greatest experiences of my life, full of extraordinary people and extremely fun times.

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But after the first year or two, I began to wonder about some of the company’s labor practices. I wondered, should I be given housing for the multi-month work season? Should I be getting a paycheck? Burning Man likes to “encourage volunteerism” — meaning that a large portion of its workforce is not paid, but is asked to “gift” their labor. For several years, this included me.

My gift to Black Rock City was seven-day workweeks in extreme environmental conditions — hundreds of hours total — and when I asked for compensation and housing, I was turned down for years before finally “earning” my way into a paid job. But it really was a fun place to work, and I believed I was contributing something good to the world. I worked enthusiastically, and even recruited some of my friends to join.

In 2014, it all changed. The event was growing faster than the crew. The work got too hard, the days too long, and collectively, many of the crew realized we wanted to “gift” a little less of our sanity and health. A member of my crew started organizing for labor rights.

Burning Man, to its credit, improved working conditions somewhat. It started feeding laborers for the full season, for example, and instituted a transparent structure for those who do get paychecks. However, the company still “encourages volunteerism,” asks workers to camp in the dirt for months — and last year, fired the crew member who was suggesting we unionize.

My coworker took his case to the National Labor Relations Board. In a settlement last month, Burning Man compensated him for lost wages, and notified the entire workforce of their right to fair treatment under the law. That’s not an admission of guilt, but it also doesn’t indicate innocence. My coworker was not the first to agitate for better working conditions; and whether it’s coincidental or not, the people who complained did not tend to keep their jobs.

It’s shocking to consider that Burning Man, a people-oriented nonprofit, would do anything other than invest in the health and happiness of its workforce. As a company whose strength is its people, I hope Burning Man will take the lead in treating its crew like a valuable resource, instead of continuing to expect them to “gift” their own lives and well-being.

We can’t change the past, and I wouldn’t want to. But it’s never too late to do the right thing.

Jessica Reeder is an author and editor in Northwest Reno.