More Than “Just a Cartoon”: Why Member Creativity Deserves a Place in Our Union Culture

A few years ago, during the 30th anniversary of the Power Rangers franchise, I created and forwarded a series of designs to leadership with the hope that they could become official hall swag — shirts, sweaters, stickers, challenge coins, or even limited-edition collectibles for members. The concept was simple: take something recognizable, nostalgic, and energetic, and reimagine it through the lens of electricians and union pride.

The designs weren’t thrown together for a laugh. They were made with intention. The logo fused retro aesthetics with IBEW identity, while the “Electric Zord” itself was designed to represent the different sectors that make up our membership and the strength that comes from them working together as one.

Every part of the design had meaning.

The house used as the head represented our Low Rise sector — the residential members helping build the neighborhoods and communities people call home. One leg was designed as a condominium tower to represent our High Rise sector and the skyline-changing work performed across the city. The other leg took the form of a cooling tower to symbolize members working under the EPSCA agreement and the massive infrastructure projects that power Ontario.

The shoulders were built as industrial factories representing the ICI sector — the backbone of heavy industrial, commercial, and institutional electrical work. The arms were bucket trucks representing our Line sector and the workers who keep power moving through storms, emergencies, and every season in between. Finally, the chest piece contained an RJ45 connector at its center to represent our Communications sector and the members responsible for the data and network infrastructure that modern life depends on.

The entire concept was built around one idea: different sectors, different specialties, one union.

Instead, the response that came back was that the concept was “too childish.”

That answer stuck with me.

Not because every idea deserves approval, but because it revealed a larger issue: there seems to be no real pathway for members to creatively contribute to the culture and branding of the hall. Ideas are sent upward, quietly rejected, and disappear without meaningful discussion, collaboration, or opportunity for improvement. What makes that more frustrating is that the standard being applied doesn’t always appear consistent.

Over the years, our hall has embraced swag inspired by other pieces of pop culture. One example leaned heavily into The A-Team aesthetic — a show that actually had a far shorter run and cultural lifespan than Power Rangers. That campaign even revolved around the phrase “Eh-Team,” a deliberately silly pun mixed with a heavy dose of Canadian nationalism. Nobody dismissed that idea as too childish, too unserious, or too pop-culture driven. It was embraced because someone had the ability to bring it forward and see it through.

So the question becomes: why are some forms of creativity welcomed while others are brushed aside?

Power Rangers is over thirty years old. It is older than some members currently in the union. The people who grew up watching it are now journeypersons, forepersons, parents, and union activists. Nostalgia is not immaturity. Culture evolves with the membership. If we want younger members engaged in union life, then we need to stop treating modern or unconventional ideas like they are automatically unserious.

Union swag should not only reflect tradition — it should reflect membership.

The disappointment from this experience is one of the reasons I decided to run for E-Board. Not because I believe every design I make should become official merchandise, but because members deserve better systems for participation. There should be clear and open avenues for artists, designers, tradespeople, and creative members to submit ideas, collaborate, and receive constructive feedback. We have incredibly talented people throughout this union: graphic designers, illustrators, welders, musicians, photographers, coders, painters, and creators. Too often, that talent sits unused because there is no structure that encourages contribution.

Creativity builds culture. Culture builds engagement. Engagement builds solidarity.

Something as simple as a sticker or hoodie can become a conversation starter on a jobsite. A coin can become something members collect proudly. A shirt can make apprentices feel connected to the hall in a way that standard branding sometimes cannot. These things matter because morale and identity matter.

I don’t believe unions grow stronger by becoming sterile or afraid of trying something different. I believe they grow stronger when members feel like they have ownership over the culture they belong to.

If elected to the E-Board, I want to help create better mediums for member-driven ideas — whether that means open design submissions, member voting on merchandise concepts, collaborative committees, or rotating limited-run swag designed by the membership itself. The point is not whether one specific design succeeds or fails. The point is ensuring members are actually heard when they try to contribute.

The “Electric Zord” designs may never make it onto a shirt or coin. But the conversation behind them matters far more than the artwork itself.

Because no member should feel like their creativity only matters when it fits someone else’s idea of what union culture is supposed to look like.