On a brilliant, sunny Wednesday afternoon, a group of women in purple t-shirts huddled along the sidewalk of Willoughby Street in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. Behind them was the gothic black metal fence surrounding Mercy Home for Children, the sprawling brick building where all of the women worked. They were out front, today, in their 1199 SEIU union t-shirts. They were on a picket line. They want a contract. They want respect.
Mercy Home is a place that takes care of children and adults with developmental disabilities. It has more than a dozen locations across New York City. Since October of 2025, more than a year and a half ago, the employees have been trying to negotiate a new union contract with the company. That is too long. The union says that Mercy Home pays its workers less than their peers in the city, and significantly less than people who do similar work in nursing homes. The company is offering only paltry raises. Yesterdayās picket line was an attempt to prod the negotiations along. I went out there to Willoughby Street to speak to some of the women about what their jobs are like.
Nadine Johnson
āIāve been working at Mercy Home for 23 years. Iām a medical direct support professional. I take my individuals to my appointments, make sure they donāt miss anything, and just teach them everyday life skills. But the most important thing is medication, and making sure they get to see their doctors.
We need more money. Everything is going up but our pay. Gas, rent, electricity, everything has gone up. So we just want a decent wage to live. Thatās it. After 23 years, Iām not even making $20 an hour. And thatās sad. Thatās very sad. My son works in the mail room, and he makes more than me. Thatās a shame. For the job we do, the effort, we treat these guys like family. Itās so unfair. So unfair.
My day starts off dropping off individuals to programs right here at this office. Then I run around and do my appointments. After my appointments, Iām running to sit with another individual whoās in a nursing home right now. Then Iām running from there back here to pick them up and take them back to the residence. So by the time I get back, my day is done. Iām in the streets all day long. Show me some respect with my pay. All Iām asking for is fair pay and respect. Thatās it.
Negotiations with management have been terrible. They are not giving at all. Itās like pulling teeth. Theyāre not negotiating. Theyāre stuck at this certain number, and itās doing nothing for anyone. They wouldnāt want those number. Two percent [raise]! Thatās nothing.
We literally do the work. They sit back and get the pay. Thatās not fair. Come on, at least give us a decent wage. Weāre not asking for much. Bring us up to $20 at least. Weāre not even there. Thatās sad!ā
Mona Ford
āIāve been here 20 years. Iām an overnight direct support professional. I work overnight shifts, like last night. We work from ten in the night until eight the next morning. For the past four years Iāve been doing this. I did 13 or 14 years on the evening shift, which is from three in the afternoon until ten at night.
You have to cook. When the individuals come off the bus, you have to get them ready to get their snack. After snack, they go to the recreation room, and after that they come back. They have dinner. You take them up and you shower them. You give them the medication. So weāre doing [Licensed Practical Nurse] work when we give them meds, because you have to pass this exam every year so that you can give medication. And after that, you have to sit and do the goalsāall their goals, what they can do, what they canāt do.
So itās a long haul, and you never finish. We have runners. They run out the building if youāre not watching. Theyāll go out one stair and come down the other. You have to keep an eye on them at all times. Right now we have three people here, but at my other [location] I have 13, all ladies.
I like the work. If not, I wouldnāt be here. The individualsāsome of them have no one but us. Some of them, bank holidays, Christmas, birthdays, no one comes to see them. We spend more time with them than we do with our own families. Weāre always there. Weāre nursemaids, weāre housekeepers, weāre the doctors, weāre the cooks, weāre family, weāre friends. Everything. Some of them were there from [the time they were] babies. And now theyāre getting older.
Itās been nearly two years, and we need a contract. I think itās unfair that they just, theyāre not coming to the bargaining table trying to help. If you are negotiating, you bring your part and I bring mine and you meet in the middle. They are not doing that.
We need respect from management, from the office. And proper pay. Thatās what we need. They want to speak to you as they like. As I told them before, they have a plantation mentality. They think we are slaves to them. For these past [snowstorms] that we had here last year and early this year, some of our staff worked five and six shifts straight. They didnāt get home. You would think they would show us at least a little bit of respect, knowing that we are there for the individuals, not for them. They donāt care. They think we have to do it, and we have to take whatever they pay us. Itās not fair.
Weāre under $19 an hour, after 20 years. Donāt come to work here.ā
Chevelle Hall
āWeāre not getting enough pay. Weāre overworked. Three people cover the night shift. If someone doesnāt come in, two people work. Where does that pay go? Itās a three person job. Two people do the job, where does that other money go? We have three individuals each. Iām responsible for three girls, sheās responsible for three guys, and if that person [doesnāt come in], thereās three more. Weāre doing medication, weāre getting them up, weāre getting them showered, weāre making sure theyāre eating. Weāre helping them. Weāre their hands, their eyes, their mouths. During the day, they go to their programs. Itās like school, a little bit.
I started a year ago. After me, a lot of people started, and they stopped. Iām only still here because of the individuals. You come here and you grow a bond with them, and you see that they really need you. You donāt want people to come in and take advantage of them, so youāre there to help. Weāre there, and weāre helping. I think the least you could do is to take care of us. Weāre taking care of them.
Some of them, their parents are still in their life, or their family. Most of them, theyāre not. We are their family. We are their friends. We are the person they see every day. We will celebrate the holidays with them. Itās we and them.
We would like daycare here. We would like more pay. We want more than the 2%. Everything goes up but the pay. We have kids! Weāre leaving our families at home to help take care of [the people here]. At least we could get the basics.ā
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‘Come on, at least give us a decent wage.’
1865: āInstead of the conservative motto, A fair dayās wage for a fair dayās work, we must inscribe on our banner the revolutionary watchword, Abolition of the wage systemā (Marx, Value, Price, and Profit).
1928: āEarning a wage is a prison occupationā (Wages, DH Lawrence).
1965: Workers still ādonāt realise that they can abolish the wages systemā (Socialist Standard).
2019: $15/hour by 2024? (Sandersā Raise the Wage Act).
2025: The federal minimum wage is $7.25 per hour.