by Big Bill [Dissent 1, 3/2/98]
On the 23rd (Monday), at about 3:10 p.m., I checked my office voice-mail, and among my messages was a call from B.B., who had heard, she said, that there would be a union meeting “this afternoon.” As far as I knew, no meeting had been scheduled for the 23rd—meetings, typically, are scheduled on board meeting days—and so this information was a bit surprising—although, in truth, I knew from past experience that union president Sherry Miller-White is quite capable of scheduling meetings without telling the general union membership.
Union meetings usually start at 3:00, and so I knew that, if I didn’t leave immediately, I would miss most of the meeting. It had already been a frustrating day as regards the union, for Lisa, my increasingly demonstrative office mate, had requested (of Ray Chandos) the minutes of a meeting that she had been unable to attend, and Ray responded with a message that asserted, snippily, that it is the responsibility of division reps to provide such information, and union officers, such as Ray, have better things to do than to duplicate and mail documents, etc. (Something to that effect.)
Ray’s message was quite odd, for surely he knows that the School of Humanities and Languages at IVC has struggled for a year, without success, to have one of its members recognized as a division representative; surely he knows that, despite my being unanimously elected by the (union) members of the school as our rep, Sherry Miller-White has refused to recognize me as such. She refuses still. Was Ray telling Lisa, then, that she, a member of the union, had no right to information about the union’s actions/decisions? Lisa was peeved, and so was I.
Ray was already on my excrement list, for I had scheduled an appointment with him for last Friday at 9:00 a.m., but he didn’t show, and so I made the trip to IVC (from Trabuco Canyon) for nothing. (I have since learned that Ray somehow never received my e-mail confirmation of the appointment.) And so, overcoming an attack of consternation, I headed out the door to make my way down to Saddleback College. (I knew that the meeting would be at Saddleback, for, as you know, meetings are never held at IVC.)
I must have entered the meeting room in the Saddleback College Library at about 3:40--I was slightly detained in transit by an enormous stinking ark that had somehow settled on top of Best Buy near Oso. As I entered, I immediately sensed an unwelcome atmosphere. Perhaps it was the way that Sherry glared at me; or maybe it was the way Ken Woodward commenced making unflattering references to “Roy Bauer,” as though that fellow were not in the room. I pick up on things like that.
[Only recently, I learned that, during the part of the meeting I missed, the Representative Council decided that only the Rep Council would be allowed to vote to ratify the recently “revised” bylaws. THAT’S ILLEGAL!]
Generally, Sherry was holding forth on the contract, which, she insisted, was “great”--a towering achievement, a veritable miracle--despite the assiduous efforts (she said) of “certain people” (she glanced my way) who put the union negotiators in a desperately bad position at a crucial moment by instigating newspaper articles that discussed faculty salaries. These fiends, she said, seek to lower faculty salaries, which, evidently in her estimation, places them several circles below rapists and murderers. (Bob Cosgrove’s name was mentioned.) Sherry then asserted that the efforts of these loathsome insurgents “cost each of us $6,000.” Jeez, that’s almost enough to pay the board’s legal bills for a whole weekend!
Ken Woodward kept staring at me; his eyes were distorted by the mounting pressures of black bile in his skull. On occasion, he muttered aloud puerile unpleasantries about me to his chum, Mr. Kopfstein; he said, “What do you expect from a dropout!”, “I’ll keep mentioning my Ph.D. in economics--did you know that I have one?--‘cuz that really gets him mad!”, and so on. The scene reminded me of those wonderful close-ups of Mr. and Mrs. Robinsons’ hideously animated mouths, impotently spewing curses at the end of The Graduate. No--it reminds me of the look on the face of a kid, in 1962, who was picked last when we were choosing up sides for a dodge-ball game. Later, that kid popped the ball. Ken’s a ball-popper.
I confess that, at that moment, I took unhealthy pleasure in observing Ken make a colossal ass of himself. As the people in my family like to say, “Just add water, and he makes his own sauce.”
Sherry seemed to declare both that the tentative contract is “great” and that it was somehow ruined by the aforementioned insurgents.
A person from counseling noted that, though the contract secures a 0% raise for faculty in general, it in effect provides a significant raise for a subset of faculty—a subset, interestingly, three members of which were on the negotiating team. “It doesn’t look good,” said the counselor. She also said that, for people in her area of the college, the new restrictions on reassigned time in the contract “are a death blow” (or some such thing). She briefly explained the gory details—details with which the members of the negotiating team seemed utterly unfamiliar.
In response, Mr. McClendon and Ms. MacMillan argued that the contract must be ratified or not as a whole. If one were to reject it on the basis of a single death blow, then the whole contract would go down the drain and the negotiations would have to begin anew.
Sherry insisted that, though the contract includes no raise, the union negotiators were able to secure “everything else” that they wanted. In response, Ms. LeBauer noted that the contract does nothing to advance “domestic partner benefits,” a goal that some members of the union have been noisily advocating for some time. I believe that Sherry responded as follows: before the negotiations began, an effort was made to solicit desiderata from the membership; but no one submitted a request for the advancement of domestic partner benefits! (Hey, maybe no one submitted a request for a raise, either!)
I believe that Walt (last name?) and Mr. McClendon urged the group to get their “ducks in a row” before facing the union membership at the March 2 “contract ratification” meeting. (See the February FA Newsletter.) Undoubtedly, they said, lots of complaints will be expressed, and we’d better begin formulating plausible defenses. I suggested that, insofar as the group seeks to prepare for complaints, they had better know right now that many faculty at IVC are upset about the contract’s assault on reassigned time, among other things.
Ms. LeBauer, a person evidently in possession of infinite patience, asked why the contract’s section on reassigned time—to which she also objected--was placed at the end and without a heading of the kind given to the other sections of the contract. She also asked why there was no mention of this provision--arguably, the most surprising provision of the tentative contract—in the union’s February Newsletter, which was distributed during the meeting, and which purported to list “Highlights of the Tentative Agreement.”
Sharon gave an answer that was too feeble for me to recall; the facts to which Ms. LeBauer referred, she said, do not reflect a conspiracy. It seemed to me that, at that point, Sharon was about to burst into tears.
Someone asked about the origin of the new reassigned time restrictions. “The district insisted on them,” said the negotiators (viz., MacMillan, Kopfstein, Miller-White, and Woodward). Mr. Woodward noted that, in negotiations, one must give something the other side wants in order to get what our side really wants, and the district (the Board Majority?) wanted the restrictions on reassigned time.
But why, asked someone, did the negotiators assume that protecting reassigned time was not particularly desirable to the union membership? LeBauer and I noted that, given the proposed reassigned time restrictions, instructors who do not wish to do overload can no longer receive support for important activities that only they can do competently. For us, and for many others, maintaining reassigned time is particularly desirable, even necessary.
At some point, reference was made to an alleged effort now being organized at IVC to try to urge non-ratification of the tentative contract. (Funny, I hadn’t encountered any such effort.) Some people at the meeting were sure about this. Indeed, judging by their body-language and the trajectory of their spit-balls, it seems that they thought that I was directly involved in this conspiracy.
In the course of the meeting, some members of the negotiating team (viz., Mr. Kopfstein and Ms. Miller-White) took mighty umbrage at the complaints and concerns expressed during the meeting. For his part, Mr. Kopfstein declared that, in view of the ingratitude that he was witnessing, he would never again participate in negotiations. Never. He and Sherry seemed to say: “Hey, we worked hard, very hard, to secure the best possible contract for you. Everything we do is for you. So let’s not have all this carping about the occasional death blow that some members will be dealt! Jeepers!” I believe that, if a ball had been in the room, they would have taken it and left the building.
To be honest, Mr. Kopfstein was on his best behavior throughout the meeting. Not once did he turn red and curse at someone.
At some point, the “reorganization” came up. Sherry asserted that the union was opposed to it, that the union had fought it. But, I asked, wasn’t it precisely the union-supported Board Majority who championed the reorganization? And, further, wasn’t it precisely the union-vilified Board Minority that argued against it? At that moment, a string of drool briefly shot down the side of Sherry’s mouth. —Not really, but her answer was about as helpful as that drool would have been.
Sharon—again, apparently on the verge of tears—expressed concern that, upon ratification by the membership, the tentative contract might then be rejected by the board; after all, board ratification depends on one slimy vote; and it is this vote—Frogue’s—that would be removed by those dastardly insurgents who are in charge of the current recall effort.
This remark led to a discussion of the merits and demerits of trustee Frogue. Once again, Sherry defended the man. “He’s weird!”, she shouted, but he’s no racist. Evidently, Sherry bases this judgment on the fact that she asked Mr. Frogue whether he is a racist, and he said “No.”
“But what about the student affidavits?”, I asked. In Sherry’s mind, evidently, it is more likely that a dozen or so students are lying than that Mr. Frogue is lying. That darned Frogue hath charms that soothe the savage unionist. It pisseth me off.
Eventually, the meeting just petered out. I hung around to ask Sherry one or two questions. She tried to ignore me. I said: “Just one quick question.” “Yes?”, she answered.
I asked her about the scheduling of the meeting. Why hadn’t anyone at IVC been told about it? She gave a long-winded answer. I said, “Why not just have Ray [Chandos] put a note in our mailboxes?” She had no answer, and she became peevish. So I asked her why she has never, I mean never, answered a single one of my letters and requests in the last year. I said this loudly. She just stared. I left.
---JULIE [JW]
On the 23rd (Monday), at about 3:10 p.m., I checked my office voice-mail, and among my messages was a call from B.B., who had heard, she said, that there would be a union meeting “this afternoon.” As far as I knew, no meeting had been scheduled for the 23rd—meetings, typically, are scheduled on board meeting days—and so this information was a bit surprising—although, in truth, I knew from past experience that union president Sherry Miller-White is quite capable of scheduling meetings without telling the general union membership.
Union meetings usually start at 3:00, and so I knew that, if I didn’t leave immediately, I would miss most of the meeting. It had already been a frustrating day as regards the union, for Lisa, my increasingly demonstrative office mate, had requested (of Ray Chandos) the minutes of a meeting that she had been unable to attend, and Ray responded with a message that asserted, snippily, that it is the responsibility of division reps to provide such information, and union officers, such as Ray, have better things to do than to duplicate and mail documents, etc. (Something to that effect.)
Ray’s message was quite odd, for surely he knows that the School of Humanities and Languages at IVC has struggled for a year, without success, to have one of its members recognized as a division representative; surely he knows that, despite my being unanimously elected by the (union) members of the school as our rep, Sherry Miller-White has refused to recognize me as such. She refuses still. Was Ray telling Lisa, then, that she, a member of the union, had no right to information about the union’s actions/decisions? Lisa was peeved, and so was I.
Ray was already on my excrement list, for I had scheduled an appointment with him for last Friday at 9:00 a.m., but he didn’t show, and so I made the trip to IVC (from Trabuco Canyon) for nothing. (I have since learned that Ray somehow never received my e-mail confirmation of the appointment.) And so, overcoming an attack of consternation, I headed out the door to make my way down to Saddleback College. (I knew that the meeting would be at Saddleback, for, as you know, meetings are never held at IVC.)
[Only recently, I learned that, during the part of the meeting I missed, the Representative Council decided that only the Rep Council would be allowed to vote to ratify the recently “revised” bylaws. THAT’S ILLEGAL!]
Generally, Sherry was holding forth on the contract, which, she insisted, was “great”--a towering achievement, a veritable miracle--despite the assiduous efforts (she said) of “certain people” (she glanced my way) who put the union negotiators in a desperately bad position at a crucial moment by instigating newspaper articles that discussed faculty salaries. These fiends, she said, seek to lower faculty salaries, which, evidently in her estimation, places them several circles below rapists and murderers. (Bob Cosgrove’s name was mentioned.) Sherry then asserted that the efforts of these loathsome insurgents “cost each of us $6,000.” Jeez, that’s almost enough to pay the board’s legal bills for a whole weekend!
Ken Woodward kept staring at me; his eyes were distorted by the mounting pressures of black bile in his skull. On occasion, he muttered aloud puerile unpleasantries about me to his chum, Mr. Kopfstein; he said, “What do you expect from a dropout!”, “I’ll keep mentioning my Ph.D. in economics--did you know that I have one?--‘cuz that really gets him mad!”, and so on. The scene reminded me of those wonderful close-ups of Mr. and Mrs. Robinsons’ hideously animated mouths, impotently spewing curses at the end of The Graduate. No--it reminds me of the look on the face of a kid, in 1962, who was picked last when we were choosing up sides for a dodge-ball game. Later, that kid popped the ball. Ken’s a ball-popper.
I confess that, at that moment, I took unhealthy pleasure in observing Ken make a colossal ass of himself. As the people in my family like to say, “Just add water, and he makes his own sauce.”
Sherry seemed to declare both that the tentative contract is “great” and that it was somehow ruined by the aforementioned insurgents.
A person from counseling noted that, though the contract secures a 0% raise for faculty in general, it in effect provides a significant raise for a subset of faculty—a subset, interestingly, three members of which were on the negotiating team. “It doesn’t look good,” said the counselor. She also said that, for people in her area of the college, the new restrictions on reassigned time in the contract “are a death blow” (or some such thing). She briefly explained the gory details—details with which the members of the negotiating team seemed utterly unfamiliar.
In response, Mr. McClendon and Ms. MacMillan argued that the contract must be ratified or not as a whole. If one were to reject it on the basis of a single death blow, then the whole contract would go down the drain and the negotiations would have to begin anew.
Sherry insisted that, though the contract includes no raise, the union negotiators were able to secure “everything else” that they wanted. In response, Ms. LeBauer noted that the contract does nothing to advance “domestic partner benefits,” a goal that some members of the union have been noisily advocating for some time. I believe that Sherry responded as follows: before the negotiations began, an effort was made to solicit desiderata from the membership; but no one submitted a request for the advancement of domestic partner benefits! (Hey, maybe no one submitted a request for a raise, either!)
I believe that Walt (last name?) and Mr. McClendon urged the group to get their “ducks in a row” before facing the union membership at the March 2 “contract ratification” meeting. (See the February FA Newsletter.) Undoubtedly, they said, lots of complaints will be expressed, and we’d better begin formulating plausible defenses. I suggested that, insofar as the group seeks to prepare for complaints, they had better know right now that many faculty at IVC are upset about the contract’s assault on reassigned time, among other things.
Sharon gave an answer that was too feeble for me to recall; the facts to which Ms. LeBauer referred, she said, do not reflect a conspiracy. It seemed to me that, at that point, Sharon was about to burst into tears.
Someone asked about the origin of the new reassigned time restrictions. “The district insisted on them,” said the negotiators (viz., MacMillan, Kopfstein, Miller-White, and Woodward). Mr. Woodward noted that, in negotiations, one must give something the other side wants in order to get what our side really wants, and the district (the Board Majority?) wanted the restrictions on reassigned time.
But why, asked someone, did the negotiators assume that protecting reassigned time was not particularly desirable to the union membership? LeBauer and I noted that, given the proposed reassigned time restrictions, instructors who do not wish to do overload can no longer receive support for important activities that only they can do competently. For us, and for many others, maintaining reassigned time is particularly desirable, even necessary.
At some point, reference was made to an alleged effort now being organized at IVC to try to urge non-ratification of the tentative contract. (Funny, I hadn’t encountered any such effort.) Some people at the meeting were sure about this. Indeed, judging by their body-language and the trajectory of their spit-balls, it seems that they thought that I was directly involved in this conspiracy.
In the course of the meeting, some members of the negotiating team (viz., Mr. Kopfstein and Ms. Miller-White) took mighty umbrage at the complaints and concerns expressed during the meeting. For his part, Mr. Kopfstein declared that, in view of the ingratitude that he was witnessing, he would never again participate in negotiations. Never. He and Sherry seemed to say: “Hey, we worked hard, very hard, to secure the best possible contract for you. Everything we do is for you. So let’s not have all this carping about the occasional death blow that some members will be dealt! Jeepers!” I believe that, if a ball had been in the room, they would have taken it and left the building.
To be honest, Mr. Kopfstein was on his best behavior throughout the meeting. Not once did he turn red and curse at someone.
At some point, the “reorganization” came up. Sherry asserted that the union was opposed to it, that the union had fought it. But, I asked, wasn’t it precisely the union-supported Board Majority who championed the reorganization? And, further, wasn’t it precisely the union-vilified Board Minority that argued against it? At that moment, a string of drool briefly shot down the side of Sherry’s mouth. —Not really, but her answer was about as helpful as that drool would have been.
Sharon—again, apparently on the verge of tears—expressed concern that, upon ratification by the membership, the tentative contract might then be rejected by the board; after all, board ratification depends on one slimy vote; and it is this vote—Frogue’s—that would be removed by those dastardly insurgents who are in charge of the current recall effort.
This remark led to a discussion of the merits and demerits of trustee Frogue. Once again, Sherry defended the man. “He’s weird!”, she shouted, but he’s no racist. Evidently, Sherry bases this judgment on the fact that she asked Mr. Frogue whether he is a racist, and he said “No.”
“But what about the student affidavits?”, I asked. In Sherry’s mind, evidently, it is more likely that a dozen or so students are lying than that Mr. Frogue is lying. That darned Frogue hath charms that soothe the savage unionist. It pisseth me off.
Eventually, the meeting just petered out. I hung around to ask Sherry one or two questions. She tried to ignore me. I said: “Just one quick question.” “Yes?”, she answered.
I asked her about the scheduling of the meeting. Why hadn’t anyone at IVC been told about it? She gave a long-winded answer. I said, “Why not just have Ray [Chandos] put a note in our mailboxes?” She had no answer, and she became peevish. So I asked her why she has never, I mean never, answered a single one of my letters and requests in the last year. I said this loudly. She just stared. I left.
---JULIE [JW]
ON THE PHONE AGAIN (To the tune of “On the Road Again”)
by Julie [Dissent 1, 3/2/98]
Probably because I was part of establishing the anal voting procedures for [IVC] Academic Senate general faculty elections, I became concerned about the upcoming vote on our contract. As of Friday we had no idea where and how voting is to occur, who monitors the process, who counts the ballots, and what arrangements will be made for us sabbatical types--you get the picture. So...I called our CTA regional liaison, Diane Fernandes-Lisi, to register my concerns. Apparently, she had spoken to union VP Sharon MacMillan and suggested the voting be as secure as possible (yuh think?), but Diane didn’t have any additional details other than the ballots were to be sealed in double envelopes. I also said that it would be sorta nice if some Association folks could see their way to IVC to answer contract questions prior to any vote—similar to the meeting being held at Saddleback. Diane said she would be speaking again to Ms. MacMillan and would pass along my concerns.
Stay tuned.
Julie
Probably because I was part of establishing the anal voting procedures for [IVC] Academic Senate general faculty elections, I became concerned about the upcoming vote on our contract. As of Friday we had no idea where and how voting is to occur, who monitors the process, who counts the ballots, and what arrangements will be made for us sabbatical types--you get the picture. So...I called our CTA regional liaison, Diane Fernandes-Lisi, to register my concerns. Apparently, she had spoken to union VP Sharon MacMillan and suggested the voting be as secure as possible (yuh think?), but Diane didn’t have any additional details other than the ballots were to be sealed in double envelopes. I also said that it would be sorta nice if some Association folks could see their way to IVC to answer contract questions prior to any vote—similar to the meeting being held at Saddleback. Diane said she would be speaking again to Ms. MacMillan and would pass along my concerns.
Stay tuned.
Julie
REBEL GIRL
I Joined the Faculty Union: A True Story
By Rebel Girl [Dissent 1, 3/2/98]
I still remember when I first saw it. It was a crisp fall afternoon in 1996, the kind of storm washed day that makes the San Bernardinos seem close enough to touch. Even the clock tower in the A-quad, IVC’s own simultaneous homage to Big Ben and Lincoln Logs, seemed majestic as it pealed a musak version of What the World Needs Now is Love. But all was not well at the little college in the orange groves. “Look,” a colleague said, thrusting a glossy brochure my way. “Have you seen it”?
In lurid red and black, the flier proclaimed “Stop Same-Sex ‘Marriage’ Advocates who want to TAKE CONTROL of your Tax dollars and Your Community Colleges.”
I looked around. Suddenly the copy I was carrying of James Baldwin’s The Price of the Ticket made me feel, well, conspicuous. I remembered the poster hanging in my office. Featuring the photos of several prominent and yet closeted gays and lesbians, it offered the following observation: PERHAPS HISTORY HAS SET THE RECORD A LITTLE TOO STRAIGHT.
The flier warned that a political action committee was promoting 4 candidates in the SCCD Board of Trustees election. These 4 candidates, the flier claimed, support health benefits for domestic partners, college classes with “Gay and Lesbian Lifestyles” content as well as “seminars and conferences to educate participants about the Gay and Lesbian Lifestyle.” “Vote to Protect the Integrity of Saddleback Colleges,” the flier urged.
The flier offered the slate of incumbents Steve Frogue and John Williams as well as Dorothy Fortune and Don Davis as alternatives to those backed by “ultra liberal political groups.” I recognized the Frogue-Fortune-Davis-Williams slate as the one endorsed by the faculty union.
I wanted to know: Did the faculty union pay for this flier?
The answer — yes.
My reaction? I made my first local political contribution in five years of living in Orange County. I donated a small amount of money to the campaigns of David Lang, Lee Rhodes, Suzy Moraes and Dianne Brooks. Why? Well, I support domestic partnership benefits. And my classes often feature books written by gay men or lesbians and/or those with gay and lesbian content; indeed, as a professor of English, I’ve been known to teach the works of James Baldwin, Virginia Woolf, Oscar Wilde, Richard Rodriquez, Walt Whitman, Louise Erdrich, Susan Sontag, Audre Lorde, E. M. Forster, Bernard Cooper and others. Besides, I recognized the true and cruel thrust of the flier—the demonization of gays and lesbians.
My next reaction? Well, it was a bit delayed due to a leave of absence that Spring. But upon my return, I did, I’d like to think, what James Baldwin would have done. I did what you can do--I contacted Ray Chandos (IVC grievance chair and division rep for the School of Physical Sciences, Engineering and Technologies) and, well, I joined the faculty union. Why? Because of its homophobic campaign tactics as well as its lack of judgment as exemplified in its choice of a consultant who would resort to such tactics and its endorsement of candidates who would condone them. Is there an excuse for such tactics? No.
Postscript: As a former contract negotiator for classified staff in the Santa Monica-Malibu Unified School District, Rebel Girl also recognized the red herring offered by the flier. What red herring? Well, it’s the union’s responsibility and role to ask for changes in benefits—it’s not up to the district to promote such things. Domestic partnership benefits would reach the negotiating table only if our union leadership put them there.
In lurid red and black, the flier proclaimed “Stop Same-Sex ‘Marriage’ Advocates who want to TAKE CONTROL of your Tax dollars and Your Community Colleges.”
I looked around. Suddenly the copy I was carrying of James Baldwin’s The Price of the Ticket made me feel, well, conspicuous. I remembered the poster hanging in my office. Featuring the photos of several prominent and yet closeted gays and lesbians, it offered the following observation: PERHAPS HISTORY HAS SET THE RECORD A LITTLE TOO STRAIGHT.
The flier warned that a political action committee was promoting 4 candidates in the SCCD Board of Trustees election. These 4 candidates, the flier claimed, support health benefits for domestic partners, college classes with “Gay and Lesbian Lifestyles” content as well as “seminars and conferences to educate participants about the Gay and Lesbian Lifestyle.” “Vote to Protect the Integrity of Saddleback Colleges,” the flier urged.
The flier offered the slate of incumbents Steve Frogue and John Williams as well as Dorothy Fortune and Don Davis as alternatives to those backed by “ultra liberal political groups.” I recognized the Frogue-Fortune-Davis-Williams slate as the one endorsed by the faculty union.
I wanted to know: Did the faculty union pay for this flier?
The answer — yes.
My reaction? I made my first local political contribution in five years of living in Orange County. I donated a small amount of money to the campaigns of David Lang, Lee Rhodes, Suzy Moraes and Dianne Brooks. Why? Well, I support domestic partnership benefits. And my classes often feature books written by gay men or lesbians and/or those with gay and lesbian content; indeed, as a professor of English, I’ve been known to teach the works of James Baldwin, Virginia Woolf, Oscar Wilde, Richard Rodriquez, Walt Whitman, Louise Erdrich, Susan Sontag, Audre Lorde, E. M. Forster, Bernard Cooper and others. Besides, I recognized the true and cruel thrust of the flier—the demonization of gays and lesbians.
My next reaction? Well, it was a bit delayed due to a leave of absence that Spring. But upon my return, I did, I’d like to think, what James Baldwin would have done. I did what you can do--I contacted Ray Chandos (IVC grievance chair and division rep for the School of Physical Sciences, Engineering and Technologies) and, well, I joined the faculty union. Why? Because of its homophobic campaign tactics as well as its lack of judgment as exemplified in its choice of a consultant who would resort to such tactics and its endorsement of candidates who would condone them. Is there an excuse for such tactics? No.
Postscript: As a former contract negotiator for classified staff in the Santa Monica-Malibu Unified School District, Rebel Girl also recognized the red herring offered by the flier. What red herring? Well, it’s the union’s responsibility and role to ask for changes in benefits—it’s not up to the district to promote such things. Domestic partnership benefits would reach the negotiating table only if our union leadership put them there.
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