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In one corner of the U.S. workforce, there is a dress code dispute like no other.
It's not what these workers are allowed to wear, because that's set. The question is whether they will get paid for the time it takes them to dress and get to work and then, to undress and leave.
There's even a special name for this protocol, reminiscent of the early days of factories: "donning and doffing."
There are now two sizable donning and doffing lawsuits against poultry processors in Minnesota -- Jennie-O and Gold'n Plump -- that may be affected by a U.S. Supreme Court ruling: In two meat-processing cases from Maine and Washington state, the nine justices unanimously decided Nov. 8 that when the workday begins and ends in locker rooms -- donning and doffing everything from hair nets down to rubber boots -- so should the time clock.
To the vast majority of the working world, all of this may sound a little inconsequential. Why should those folks get paid when, for example, attorneys don't bill for the time spent donning and doffing their three-piece suits? Besides, what's the big deal about a few minutes a day?
The big deal is that, collectively, this is big money. Even some quick, hypothetical math -- 10 more minutes a day at $12 an hour times 5,000 employees comes to $50,000 a week -- makes that clear. And industry groups from meat processors to automobile plants are concerned.
"When you add it all up, week after week, various employers will face a significant new cost burden that will invariably affect their competitiveness -- particularly with respect to foreign competition," Quentin Riegel, an officer at the National Association of Manufacturers, told SHRMOnline, a human-resources news site.
But even the individual amounts matter to workers making $9 to $13 an hour, said attorney J. Gordon Rudd Jr., who represents the Gold'n Plump workers.
It can quickly add up to $500 to $1,000 a year, "and to them, that's meaningful money," Rudd said.
Also, the clothing in question is required for safety and sanitation reasons, making firefighters perhaps a better analogy than attorneys.
Jutta Kluka, 70, described all that she donned and doffed on her work days at Jennie-O in Willmar, before she recently retired.
Kluka's first job was to cut one thigh off a bird passing by her on an assembly-line hook, she said. Later, when much of the work was mechanized, she cut away bone remnants missed by the machines, she said.
Every morning at the plant she put on: rubber boots, a hair net, a helmet, a protective chest shield, a white coat, a rubber apron, cotton gloves under rubber gloves on both hands, and finally a mesh metal glove to protect the hand not holding the knife.
For lunch and other work breaks, she took off everything but the white coat and helmet. If you had to go to the bathroom, she said, you hung the white coat in the hallway before you went in.
At the end of the day, everything came off and much of it had to be washed before she put it away in her locker.
"The mesh glove got so full of meat and fat that you had to really scrub with soap at the sinks," she said.
The Supreme Court ruling last month addressed just two particular pieces of donning and doffing. The justices prefaced their ruling by saying they are convinced that donning and doffing are "principal" job activities, and that they mark the beginning and the end of the workday.
That's why, they ruled, employers also have to pay workers for the time they walk from their locker rooms to the plant floor and then back again after work.
That's also why they ruled that employers don't have to pay workers for any time they spend waiting in line to pick up work gear.
"I'd call it a split decision, I guess," said Richard Lobb, spokesman for the National Chicken Council in Washington.
"All I can say is, companies are going to have to review their policies to see if they're in compliance," Lobb said.
It's too soon to know if the facts in the two Minnesota cases will be covered by the Supreme Court ruling.
Both companies declined to comment.
The Gold'n Plump case, which has been certified a collective action in federal court, could eventually include as many as 1,200 current and former employees, Rudd said.
In the Jennie-O suit, attorney Antonio Tejeda said he just filed a request in state court that the case be certified as a class action. He estimated it eventually could include "thousands" of workers.
Tejeda believes the recent ruling will help his case, even though it is in state court.
"When the 'Supremes' talk, everyone listens," he said.
What are your workplace issues? You can reach H.J. Cummins at workandlife@startribune.com. Please sign e-mails; no names will appear in print without approval.
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