The saga of a rotten college president who sought to block an instructor's tenure because he participated in the unauthorized naming of a greenhouse
Part 1
[From Dissent 45: February 29, 2000]
Board majority blinkage? Mathur and Sampson’s critic-firing juggernaut is stopped—temporarily.
By Big Bill B [Roy Bauer]
Greenhouse:
Jeff clownin' around at a School party, years later |
But Raghu Mathur is nothing if not petty, and he hates Burgess. Hell, he hates ‘im even more than he hates me. So when he caught wind of the greenhouse namage, he had El Ced [Chancellor Cedric Sampson] tell the LS faculty that only the board can name facilities—and the greenhouse is a facility. Never mind that it’s no bigger than an outhouse. Never mind that unauthorized plaques adorn various other “facilities” on campus. Those plaques don’t have Terry’s name on ‘em.
For some reason, the Chancellor opted to send a message specifically to Jeff Kaufmann, an untenured member of the department who had no special role in the “naming.” Jeff duly passed the message on to his department chair Kathy S, who duly responded on behalf of the LS faculty, which had collectively made the namage and plaquage decisions. The LS faculty then complied with Sampson’s instructions, removing the plaque several days before the deadline El Ced had given.
Garden:
In the course of these events, then-VP of Instruction Pat Spencer slyly mentioned to Jeff that no board policy prohibited the naming of gardens. Jeff passed this along to his colleagues, and so, with the tacit consent of the VP of Instruction, the LS faculty now erected a cardboard “Burgess” sign in the garden next to the greenhouse. The decision to do so had again been made by the entire group. Jeff did not attend the installation of the sign.
Trustee Nancy Padberg |
Flash-forward now to Oktoberfest Week at IVC. With the blessing of advisor Mikel B, the Honor Society arranged to roll an old station wagon onto campus for the purpose of fundraising—charging students a dollar for the opportunity to wack it with a sledgehammer, a time-honored collegiate tradition. Administration didn’t seem to object. When, however, VP of SS Armando “Boots” Ruiz discovered that some students had written “Mathur—injustice” (among other things) on the side of the car, he ordered the immediate obliteration of the message. Apparently, in Ruiz’ view, students may not criticize the president of the college. The HS students complied.
Not long after, Jeff and another instructor wandered by the car and were told about the Ruiz incident. He and the other instructor explained to the students that they had every right to spray those words, and express that sentiment, on the car. After all, we’re livin’ in America, ain’t we? Jeff patriotically headed to his office for some spray paint.
When Jeff returned, “Tailgunner” Ruiz had also returned, evidently to ask students for the names of those who had done the earlier offending sprayage. (They didn’t know who did it, they said.) About then, Jeff sprayed “El Presidente” on the derelict, an admirably subtle phrase suggested by a bystander. [UPDATE: I seem to recall learning, later, that Jeff had no role in spraying anything on the car. He merely supplied the paint can.] Ruiz reacted with anger and shouting: “Stop that! Stop that! I know what President you’re referring too!” He even briefly attempted to take the spray can from Jeff. (Ruiz’ semi-violent conduct inspired Jeff to later file an “unusual occurrence” report.) Ruiz then announced that the Honor Society event was over. There’ll be no goddam criticisms of the college president as long as I’m around!, he thought, I guess.
As I said, Jeff had no special role in the ill-fated “naming” incidents. And he did not instigate the “sledgehammer” fundraiser or the spraying of Mathur’s name on that junked car. Nevertheless, soon after Oktoberfest, Mathur took actions in apparent preparation for denying Jeff’s tenure, which would normally be granted in mid-March. With an indifference to due process that is now customary in the district, Mathur ordered Jeff to a meeting, where he informed the instructor that he had been insubordinate with regard to the “naming.” Mathur placed a disciplinary letter in Jeff’s personnel file. He then pressured Jeff’s dean to insert a negative remark in Jeff’s teaching evaluation—a turd in a punchbowl of glowing remarks. He even inserted Jeff’s “unusual occurrence” report in his personnel file!
Mathur’s purpose in all this is manifest: to frighten critics (and potential critics) into silence—by crushing a critic. Jeff, an untenured instructor, is eminently crushable.
Rumors:
In the days just before the Feb. 22 board meeting, we had heard rumors that Mathur would at last recommend denying Jeff’s tenure during the meeting’s closed session. (It was nearly his last opportunity to do so before the “magic date” of March 15.) Reportedly, trustees were being told that Jeff had instigated or masterminded the “namings” and the car incident and that, further, he had simply ignored a communication from the chancellor about the former matter. Naturally, none of this was true. We had even heard that, at an earlier closed session, Mathur, a man with a remarkable history of prevarication and deception, led the trustees to believe that VP Spencer never consented to the faculty’s naming of the garden.
Consequently, faculty and students launched a campaign to disabuse the trustees of any Kaufmannian misconceptions or misunderstandings. Those efforts would largely come to fruition during the “public comments” session prior to the closed board session of Feb. 22 at IVC.
Show of support:
FEBRUARY 22: Trustee Padberg opened the meeting at 4:08. Trustee Milchiker hadn’t arrived yet. —No matter; the Majority was present.
Trustee Steven J. Frogue |
The remarks that followed were impressive. The students expressed love and respect for Jeff. He is “inspiring,” “caring,” “exceptional,” and so on. He routinely goes out of his way to help students. “He changed my life.”
Math instructor Rich Z noted that Jeff is the latest victim of a “vengeful college president.” Traci F spoke of a “political smear.” Brenda B testified to Jeff’s wonderfulness. Julie W noted that the board should be making Jeff “teacher of the year.” Others spoke, and spoke well. Letters and petitions were presented on Jeff’s behalf. It was clear that everyone loves and respects the guy.
Eventually, Priscilla spoke. She explained that the entire Life Science faculty were involved in naming the greenhouse. Jeff, she said, did not initiate the naming: the Life Sciences dean did. The faculty as a group came up with the name, not Jeff. Priscilla, not Jeff, “designed and purchased” the plaque. She installed it by herself. When contacted by the chancellor, the group duly responded to his communication, complied with his demands, etc.
Next, Kathy S. spoke. She presented a very strong letter on Jeff’s behalf signed by all of the IVC Life Sciences faculty. She explained why she, and not Jeff, had responded to the Chancellor’s communication about the greenhouse: she was the chair of his department and, as such, she was the appropriate respondent, chain-of-command-wise.
Some of the board members seemed surprised. Mathur squirmed uncomfortably and El Ced seemed to sink into his chair.
Wendy P (of Brown Act fame) spoke. She clarified the signage business (two signs, one made of cardboard, etc.). She reported her telephone conversation with Pat Spencer over the weekend. According to Spencer, said Wendy, she told Jeff that there were no board policies prohibiting the naming of gardens. Hence, though she never said “You can put up the sign,” she had indeed consented to the LS faculty’s putting up the sign.
More students spoke. As Padberg and the others stared uncomprehendingly, one student pointed to the flag to assert that it represents “freedom of speech.” Throughout the remarks, Fortune, Williams, and Padberg gave off seriously unsympathetic vibes. Williams even affected the manner of a toad, seemingly perched upon his toadstool, stoically awaiting mosquito action.
When the 30 minutes were up, Padberg stopped the show. She asked the board if they wanted to allow the last speaker to speak. With a great display of magnanimity, they did. The student then suggested that the board shouldn’t “misuse” its “power.”
It was all over at 4:42. Padberg sent us out of the room, saying that the open session wouldn’t start until at least 6:30.
Some of us went over to Tijuana’s. When we returned to the Student Services Center at about 6:25, the closed session was not yet over. Someone spotted Armando Ruiz sitting in the Counseling lounge and commenced singing “I’m Your Puppet.” We watched Armando read. His lips moved.
Read out:
At about 6:47, the open session commenced, but not before Padberg again nearly killed someone by shoving open a door with absurd force. Mr. Wilion, the district’s illiterate “speech and advocacy” lawyer, sat in the cheap seats, wearing his best shoes—Hush Puppies, I think. His tie was somehow caught under his arm pit. Other lawyers were scattered about the room, but we weren’t quite sure who they were, though we were sure they were lawyers.
Trustee Frogue, the board clerk, read out the closed session actions:
1. Someone—a “Pat Flanagan”—was appointed dean of something.
2. On a 5/2 vote, the board decided to appeal Roy Bauer’s recent attorneys’ fees victory for his successful 1st Amendment suit against the Chancellor. (He had been awarded $127,000.) So what else is new?
3. On a 6/1 vote (Frogue dissenting), the board decided to “continue” the “instructor” item—that was Jeff—to the March 9 special meeting. WOW!
4. Kathie Hodge was terminated as Vice Chancellor; she will “retreat into the classroom.” (No surprise there. The chancellor’s rule: get rid of anyone more competent than yourself.)
After that, there was an amazing exodus from the room, as students asked, “What happened?” The commotion soon subsided.
Trustee Williams did the invocation: “Oh, heavenly Father…,” he said. If the Lord exists, surely he’s pissed off about John and his friends. Why doesn’t the Deity throw a thunderbolt or two? Just a suggestion.
Liars!
Next, board “resolutions” were read. What could be more worthless than a board resolution--especially from this board? Only an idiot could fail to notice that these “resolutions” and their attendant photo ops were a ploy to counter negative press. Of the 5 “recipients,” I think only two showed up for their certificates, and one of ‘em had to be there.
My favorite honoree: Lincoln Mercury.
A very bored teenager got “resolved at” for winning a prize during the “Astounding Inventions of the Future” competition, held at IVC. Wow: she gets a prize for getting a prize. But does that mean she now gets another prize (for that prize), and then another, and so on? Apparently, these trustees don’t understand infinite regresses.
Poor Don R. He got a resolution, too, but he was pretty gracious about it, I thought. Naturally, Pam “Same Sex” Zanelli, Brownie in hand and haystack on head, snapped away amid all the silly “WHEREASes.” “It’s a job,” she said, in her head. “You’re a hack,” I said, in mine.
The last resolution was about measure F, which the board supported as part of their ongoing anti-airport blarney program. They smiled cunningly into the camera, as the huge plume of toxic waste below us—courtesy of the Marine Corps—reeked imperceptibly, slowly eating at our brains.
During Trustee reports, Lang spoke about free speech. Faculty, he said, now fear losing their jobs if they speak out. That’s not good.
Marcia Milchiker implored the board to “listen to faculty.” Then she went on about the infamous “missing 4 minutes.” (The portion of the December meeting in which Marcia nominated hitherto office-less Dave Lang for clerk—and the Board Majority ruthlessly rammed through their choice [one-time board president Frogue]—was deleted when the meeting aired on cable a few days later.) When Marcia’s 2 minutes were up, Padberg furiously pounded her gavel, causing some in the audience to cover their ears. Marcia resolutely continued for about 15 seconds, offering a delicate aural counterpoint to the booming Padbergian poundage. I thrilled, but it all ended when Frogue commenced twaddling.
The Froguester was in rare form, lashing out at unnamed “liars” and “disgruntled self-serving employees,” who, he said, sought the colleges’ loss of accreditation. These are the same liars, he added, who pursued the recalls against him. The “board majority and the chancellor,” he said finally, will not be deterred from the one truth path, or something to that effect.
Wagner, who always leaves the impression that he’s slumming, said, unenthusiastically, that he wanted to bring all the factions together.
Padberg made gratuitous congratulatory noises about the positive accreditation outcome. Then she spoke of dissent. Dissent’s swell, she said, but it should be “responsible and constructive.” You faculty, she said, “come from the atmosphere of thinking.” I guess that was supposed to be a contrast with her own atmosphere, the atmosphere of unthinking.
Fortune then joked, in her oafish manner, that it “sounds like we’re all running for office!” Actually, she was right, especially with regard to those trustees who speechified about the airport and Measure F. In contrast, Fortune addressed parking—the real issue, she said.
Williams, looking particularly toad-like, croaked once again about the bankruptcy. Plus: if measure F fails, we’ll be “devastated.” He opined regarding the airport’s likely affect on property values.
So much for trustee campaign speeches.
Pattern:
It was necessary to do some “housekeeping,” said Padberg. She indicated that IVC president Mathur had pulled student Julie B’s name off of the list of prospective student volunteers. (She had applied to do volunteer work for the school of Humanities and Languages.) By this action, Mathur had effectively blackballed her.
Curious. At the Feb. 7 meeting, Julie had distributed letters of support for instructor Roy Bauer, a Mathur critic. Do you suppose there’s a connection?
Not long ago, Mathur had similarly blackballed prospective volunteer Deb Burbridge, who happened to be one of the petitioners of the student lawsuit against Mathur. He hasn’t blackballed any other students.
I’m sensing a pattern.
Anti-aircraft guns:
After a few minutes, Wagner started in on Jane Fonda. Months ago, he objected to the district’s membership in the American Association of University Women (AAUW) on the grounds that the group had recently honored “Hanoi Jane” Fonda. On the 22nd, Wagner went after Fonda again, no doubt for the benefit of all those lovely right-wing lunatics out there in South County TV Land. My God, he said, there she was with the VC, manning an anti-aircraft gun! The trollop!
I guess the Wag Man hasn’t heard about Jane’s recent conversion. She won’t be manning any more anti-aircraft guns, ceptin’ for the Lord.
The sound system occasionally made unpleasant electronic popping noises. Perceiving this, president Mathur approached the “tech guy,” who seemed to be on a date, in order to investigate the problem. Though Mathur’s efforts bore no fruit, they were eminently appropriate.
--There. Don’t say I never said anything positive about the guy.
Speculation:
During the break, I spoke with several people, including the excellent Kathie Hodge. It was clear that, during the closed session, something had happened to stop or slow the “fire Jeff” juggernaut. But what? Well, there was the obvious: the expressions of support during public remarks clarified Jeff’s admirable standing among his colleagues and students. How can you fire a guy who’s obviously doing his job and doing it well?
But that wasn’t enough to explain what happened. I speculated that Wagner had perceived the disparity between what the Mathurians had told the board and what the Life Sciences faculty had just told the board. The disparity was too clear and significant to ignore.
Perhaps Wagner, fearing another embarrassing round of litigation, had advised launching some sort of investigation. Fortune, Williams, and Padberg would go along with that, I speculated, knowing that they could still fire Jeff, as per plan, at the March 9 meeting (6 days before the tenure decision deadline).
I didn’t stay for the rest of the meeting. Evidently, the board discussed the proposed “speech and advocacy” policy again, and made clear their intention to ram it through (perhaps on March 9). These people are unbelievable.
Lang questioned the pulling of Julie B’s name. A problem with paper work, said Raghu. So that problem will be resolved? Mathur answered equivocally.
That was about it, I guess.
Inwestigation:
A lot has happened since the meeting. I’m told that, the day after the board meeting, Sampson treated Trustee Milchiker to lunch. Hmmm. Lobbying, I bet. Maybe these people are getting desperate.
Two days after the meeting, first Kathy S and then Jeff’s dean met with lawyer Wilion and Glenn “Toady” Roquemore. Evidently, an investigation is afoot.
Could be the board is headed for a 4/3 vote. But boards don’t like to fire someone on what appears to be a split vote. 5/2 is much better. So maybe there’s hope.
I’m told that, on March 1st, Mathur will be deposed in connection with Jeff’s suit against him up in LA. I bet Mathur’s scared gooless.
Stay tuned.
I look forward to seeing you all at the March 9 meeting, where you will no doubt come out in great numbers to support your colleague Jeff and also to speak against the passage of BP8000, among other outrages. —BBB
[Go to part 2: Mathur goes after Jeff for “naming a greenhouse” aka "Hello Mr Chips" - Mar 20 2000 ]