Fighting Wall Street after Toys R Us

I’ve never been a political person. But when Wall Street took my job and threw my family into financial crisis, I had no other option but to fight back.

Toys R Us was a great place to work for many years. I started as a seasonal part-time employee during the holiday season in 1997 and worked my way up to an assistant manager. I raised my five kids on my job with Toys R Us.

I dedicated 20 years to the company, sacrificing family time by working through nearly every holiday, including overnight shifts for many of those years. My daughter also worked there for five years as she put herself through college.

Everything changed in 2005 when Bain Capital, KKR and Vornado Realty bought Toys R Us and loaded the company with debt. Everything went downhill — hours were cut, full-time positions were eliminated and the company stopped investing in its employees.

At my store in Waco, we found out in March that the company would be liquidating. I was in shock — sales were good and profits were up across the board. Even after the company filed for bankruptcy, executives told us we were going to make it through, and we believed them.

We were a thriving toy store that children and families loved — but that wasn’t good enough for Wall Street. Later, we found out that the company had potential buyers who wanted to save the company, but it was more profitable to let the whole thing burn to the ground.

I couldn’t sit back and let Wall Street get away with it.

In my 50 years, I never imagined I would become an activist. But after connecting with fellow coworkers online, I joined Rise Up Retail, a national movement of retail workers, and within a few days I was boarding a flight to Washington, D.C., to meet with members of Congress to share my story. I wanted people to know about what Wall Street did to Toys R Us to make sure what happened to us doesn’t happen to other working families ever again.

My husband, a Republican, cautioned me not to go — but I knew that when my family was in financial crisis, I had to do everything in my power to fight. I didn’t care which side of the political spectrum these politicians were on as long as they were willing to listen and stand with us.

Since the moment I stepped onto that plane in May, I’ve sat down and met U.S. Sen. Bernie Sanders and U.S. Rep. Keith Ellison, as well as the offices of U.S. Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee and U.S. Rep. John Culberson. I’ve occupied a Toys R Us store with dozens of my coworkers from all across the country. I stood in front of former CEO Dave Brandon’s penthouse and seethed in anger about his betrayal. I’ve marched directly into the buildings of Bain Capital, KKR and Vornado to share my story and demand justice. I have shared my story and asked these Wall Street firms directly: Where’s my money? Who’s going to pay my bills? Who’s going to feed my family?

Our stores may be closed, but the fight isn’t over. This month, I’m going to a meeting of the Teacher Retirement System of Texas in Austin to share my story and urge them not to invest any more funds into KKR until Toys R Us workers get what we’re owed in severance.

I’ve never felt such financial strain on my family, and, at the same time, I’ve also never felt more alive. This movement is all about family, love, compassion, but it’s also about anger and pain. The anger fuels me to keep fighting and not give up.

Twenty years of hard work and missing nearly every holiday with my family — and not even a “thank you” let alone severance pay, despite being promised that we would. It’s just not right.

You better believe that I have absolutely no political allegiances to any political party, regardless of how I’ve voted in the past. The midterm elections are coming up, and I am ready to vote out anyone who stands for Wall Street instead of families.