I’ve spent more than two-thirds of my life working in restaurants. More than 40 years. I’ve worked front of house and back of house. I’ve owned restaurants. I’ve cooked, managed, promoted, and advocated. I’m still here because I love this work, and because I believe in it. If I didn’t, I would have walked away a long time ago.
I’m not alone. Hundreds of thousands of restaurant workers in New York show up every day for their communities. Dishwashers, servers, cooks, porters, chefs. All of us are required to complete training programs to protect public health and safety. One of the most common is ServSafe, run by the National Restaurant Association.
By name, the other NRA sounds like it represents us. In practice, it does not. It is a lobbying organization that has spent years fighting against fair pay and worker protections in the restaurant industry. On top of that, we’re still struggling to secure fair pay and are fighting for protections to ensure that the same workers who are the backbone of our kitchens can make enough money to afford housing and food of their own.
Getting there hasn’t been easy. Every time progress is made, it feels like the ground shifts again.
The Tipped Employees Protection Act is the latest example. The National Restaurant Association is lobbying for it, and if it passes, it will weaken federal wage laws and make it easier for employers to continue paying subminimum wages. The same people pushing these policies have no problem eating in restaurants, ordering delivery, or relying on the labor they say can’t be paid fairly.
Workers in New York are pushing for a shift to Just Safe Food, a comparable training run by One Fair Wage. It still covers food safety, but it also acknowledges that worker safety, dignity, and fair pay are part of public health.
Restaurant life is not stable or predictable. The hours are irregular. The margins are thin. You’re constantly adapting to rising costs, new rules, and shifting expectations. My own life has been shaped by that reality for decades. The work is physically hard, emotionally draining, and often unforgiving.
During COVID, my restaurant Reverence changed overnight. We stopped being a sit-down fine dining restaurant and became something closer to a community kitchen. We gave away food to people who couldn’t afford it and offered takeout to those who were afraid to leave their homes. It mattered. People depended on it. The gratitude was real. But like so many moments of collective care during the pandemic, it didn’t last.
Last year, I was forced to close Reverence. Not because the community disappeared, and not because the work lost its purpose, but because of layers of bureaucracy shaped by the same forces that claim to speak for this industry. The other NRA talks about unity while benefiting from systems that leave workers and independent operators struggling to survive.
After the closure, I continued the work in different forms. Through SubCulture Dining, I focused on authored hospitality and the realities of labor inside kitchens. Through Reverence Provisions, I translated that work into products rooted in responsibility and material stewardship. And through other public-facing projects, I’ve stayed committed to feeding people in shared spaces, where access and dignity actually matter. The work didn’t disappear. It adapted.
As a Black man, I’ve learned that hard work alone is not enough in this industry. I’ve been fired twice because of my race. I’ve been told to stay in my lane, to limit myself, to only cook what others decided I should represent. I’ve spoken publicly about the physical, mental, and emotional abuse that gets brushed off as kitchen culture. None of it was theoretical. It shaped my career and my life.
Right now, a lot of people are struggling. Workers across industries are being asked to do more with less, and restaurant workers are no exception. If there is any chance to change that, it comes from standing together and being honest about who benefits and who pays the price.
I’m in my 60s now, and I care just as much about restaurants as I did when I was 19. I still believe in their ability to feed people, bring people together, and take care of communities. But loving this industry also means being willing to say when it’s wrong.
Trade groups always come with strings attached. Too often, those strings pull workers further underwater. The cost of that system is real, and it’s hurting everyone involved.
I’m asking people to sign the petition opposing the Tipped Employees Protection Act and to push for fair wages for restaurant workers in New York City. We can’t keep supporting organizations whose power depends on keeping restaurant workers underpaid and unprotected.
The restaurant industry isn’t going anywhere. The question is whether the people who hold it up will ever be allowed to live with stability and dignity. That isn’t a mystery. It’s a choice. And it’s one we can make differently.
Petition Link: https://mobilize.us/s/yS8CVf
Chef Russell Jackson is the Founder of ReverenceNYC Hospitality Group