We are happy teachers: the Chancellor's opening session & the union luncheon

Cedric

By Chunk Wheeler [Dissent 41 1/18/00]

McKinney theater (January 4, 2000):

My winter break was a complete bust, what with my getting a bad case of sciatica and whatnot. Somehow, I went to “staff development” activities down at Saddleback College expecting to have my spirits raised. What was I thinking?

Arriving at Saddleback’s McKinney theater at about 9:05, I grabbed some coffee and headed inside, where I sat pretty much in the middle. I espied Bob Kopfstein and Ray Chandos way off to my right. They whispering nastily. Just then, Pam Zanelli walked in, a haystack still on her head. Williams, Lang, and Milchiker were down toward the front, in the dignitary zone. Williams, looking staunch, was wedged in his seat like a square peg in a square hole.

At about 9:10, facing a meager crowd of about 60, Cedric began to purr through his nose the way he does, pointing out, unpleasantly, that it wasn’t yet a new millennium, not for another year. Gotta get beyond Y2K thinking, said he. Off to the right, someone broke wind, and there was laughter.

Sampson introduced the trustees, starting, naturally, with Williams. Then he thanked Maureen S for setting up the morning session, whereupon he explained the need for clarification of “roles and responsibilities.” Translation: “gotta put those goddam academic senates in their place.”

The guest speaker—Ray Geigle, Dean of the School of Arts and Sciences at Cal State Bakersfield—seemed pretty cheerful for a guy who has to live in Bakersfield. He was a pretty good speaker, too, in stark contrast to Sampson.

For no apparent reason, Geigle told a funny story about a philosophy course he took as an undergraduate. In class, the professor asked Geigle whether he understood the lecture. Geigle said he did. Said the professor: “Well, good, Geigle; if you understood it, then everyone did.” We all laughed, but it was a bitter laugh, for we thought: “how come we’re stuck with stiffs like Cedric while friggin’ Bakersfield gets this guy?”

Geigle explained that 70% of the labor force is now in the service industry, and students need to understand that. Up in Bakersfield, lots of students want to go into agriculture, but that’s no good, ‘cuz, pretty soon, all of our crops will be grown by one guy on a computerized tractor, plowin’ computerized dirt.

Said Geigle: used to be that kids could go into manufacturing and make some good money, buy a house, a car. Now, manufacturing is pretty damned cheap and efficient, and these manufacturing jobs have vanished. Gotta have knowledge; that’s the new commodity.

John

That has enormous implications for us in higher education, said Geigle. But higher Ed is a huge bureaucracy, and it isn’t flexible. We’ve gotta learn to compete with the likes of the University of Phoenix. (!) Organizations like that could, he said, “drive us out of business.” We can no longer afford to teach courses just because we want to teach ‘em; gotta tailor courses to what students need right now. If we don’t provide the courses, someone else will, said Geigle.

He was starting to piss me off.

Geigle talked about the globalization of the economy, which, he said, is now unstoppable. The world wide web is having an incredible effect, like nothing that’s come before it. Nobody knows where this train is going, in part because it has no engineer. We can’t predict how things will be 3 years from now. So flexibility’s the thing.

Geigle seemed to say that the economy is becoming increasingly polarized between the unskilled, who are making five bucks an hour (or who make big bucks administering at IVC), and the highly skilled, who are wealthy bastards with maids and chauffeurs. He also noted that, pretty soon, we’ll all have molecular computers implanted in our bodies.

We’ve gotta tell our students more about the “texture of the job” they’re going into, said Geigle. A student might start out wanting to be, say, a traditional nurse, but he or she will end up shoving microcomputers up patients’ noses and then spinnin’ ‘em out the door.

Sensing the need to end with something positive, Geigle was suddenly bullish about California. Our state, he said, has all of the attributes necessary for global leadership. The largest open markets are in the Pacific Rim, and California has great ports. Also, we’ve got this diversity thing nailed. We’re screwing up, though, ‘cuz we’re not teaching languages. Gotta get on that. Everybody must get multilingual.

Geigle talked about our infrastructure, which has been badly neglected. Our generation has not done for its children, said G, what our parents did for theirs. Basically, said Geigle, we’re a bunch of assholes, and, looking over at Sampson and Williams, it was hard to disagree.

The Faculty Association Luncheon

After that, I hung out with Bill for a bit, and then I wandered over to the union luncheon, where we all stood in line. Suddenly, Lee popped up, holding a copy of Dissent 40, which offered an account of his Dec. 13 drumming performance. He shook the thing at me and said, “Why don’t you distribute these around here!” I said, “I did, Lee. That’s why you’ve got one. Nice to see you, Lee.” His tail twitched.

At long last, we got our food—there wasn’t much for vegetarians—and we sat down. I sat with Wendy, and others soon joined us. Cedric wandered over to greet people, but, though he stood only inches away from our table, he passed us by. I noticed Tony and Tom and Patrick over at one table, and Walter and Dale and Laurence at another. Larry and Moe and Curly were there, too.

Huddling at the table next to the podium were Pam “Same Sex” Zanelli, John “PE Boy” Williams, Ray “White Wash Willy” Chandos, Bob “Anger Management” Kopfstein, Sherry “PAC Woman” Miller-White, Sharon “Tiny Tears” MacMillan, and Cedric “Just Waitin’ for Retirement” Sampson.

Wow. An Axis meeting, right out in the open like that.

Just before things got started, we heard a strange sound from nearby. We looked down. It was Lee, who whispered, “I see you choose your friends carefully.” Then he ran off, [disappearing among the vertically unchallenged.]

Ray was seated in front of the podium, so, when things got started, they moved him to a card table against the wall, where he chewed alone, while the adults continued to conspire at the big table.

Sharon, wearing a brown suit with big gold buttons, introduced the featured speaker, who, as near as I can tell, was the caterer. He seemed like a nice fellow, though his address was uninspired. Later, he popped up to make a pitch for his restaurant.

Haggerty

Next, President-elect Lee Haggerty spoke. He talked about our chapter’s reputation for getting good contracts. Haggerty seemed to think that he was addressing only Saddleback faculty, a motif that recurred during most of the presentations. Upon noting, gratuitously, that he had recently been chosen as Teacher of the Year, Lee said something about the need for “healing,” though he failed to specify the ailment from which he was suffering. “Let’s recommit ourselves to students,” he said. It’s our commitment to “empowerment of students” that made Saddleback what it is today, he added.

After Maureen made an announcement concerning the “Great Teacher” seminar at Lake Arrowhead, Sharon introduced various dignitaries in the audience, including two trustees (Milchiker and Williams), the Chancellor, and President Bullock. Raghu P. Mathur was nowhere to be seen. Sharon, apparently about to break into tears, praised Williams for his support of the contract, especially with regard to the tiff over cost of living. Thanks to the outcome of the COLA wars, said she, “we’ll be happier teachers.”

Next, the loathsome John Williams spoke; he wore a blue suit, Hitler hair, and a ridiculous tie apparently fashioned from an American flag—a clear violation of what the SAR call “flag etiquette.” He said: “Yeah, I supported you. Now, you damn well better support me in 2000.” —Well, no, he didn’t actually say that. What he actually said was, “Why am I here?” Really.

Following Haggerty’s example, Williams spoke fondly of Saddleback College, which, he said, “changed my life.” He had intended to be a PE teacher and coach, but then he took some criminal law courses at the college, and the rest is history. (Yeah. In fact, he sat around eating doughnuts as a bailiff for 22 years. Naturally, after his doughnut period, he felt prepared to oversee a college district.)

He said that we’ve recovered from the bankruptcy and the “future is very bright.” After underscoring his role in the COLA wars, he said, “I appreciate your support” and “Please email me.”

Bob K got up to praise [himself] and his cronies for their successes negotiating the contract. Bob explained that good salaries in the district started with a board member, who used to say, “You can’t pay a good teacher enough; you can’t fire a bad teacher fast enough.” Everyone nodded; Lee W winced.

Sharon spoke about faculty evaluations, a bone of contention. The IVC Academic Senate has pursued a change in the evaluation procedures (for IVC) to bring them more in line with state guidelines, which favor inclusion of “peer evaluation.” Naturally, the Old Guard is against this. Sharon said that our existing “system” is very “liberal.” Hence, we “shouldn’t change it.” Ray C got up to make similar noises. He seemed to suggest that our peers can’t be trusted to evaluate us, but deans can. In fact, however, in December, an administrator at IVC was pressured by King Raghu to place an utterly undeserved negative remark in a faculty critic’s teaching evaluation. What about that, Ray?

The joint meeting of the academic senates

An hour or two later, we headed to BGS for a joint meeting of the academic senates, with Anne Cox and Peter Morrison presiding. The chancellor, of course, has recently expressed his intention to urge the modification of the board policy concerning delegation of authority to the academic senates. This effort by the chancellor (and, no doubt, the Board Majority) to reduce senate authority turned out to be the sole topic of the meeting.

Lee Walker was there. Amidst much groaning, he held up a recent Times article which described the “insulting” and “juvenile” anonymous newsletters that have cropped up at Saddleback College in response to the Dissent. He then held up a copy of Dissent 40, which, he said, has an article by “Chuck Wheeler”—implying, of course, that the Dissent, too, offers anonymous writings. At that point, I announced (politely) that “My name appears at the end of the article, Lee.” (Evidently, the poor fellow can’t read.)

Anne introduced some visitors, including Linda Collins of the State Academic Senate and trustees Nancy Padberg and Don Wagner. Wagner explained, rather ominously, that he will “report back to the board” what the senators have to say. He then added, contrary to all reason, that there is no effort afoot by anyone to change the scope of the exiting board policy regarding delegation of authority.

What’s that boy been smokin’?

Lee asked an incoherent question about the Brown Act, which produced a quizzical look on Ms. Collins’ face. “I’m not quite clear what the point is,” said she.

Peter laid out the essential facts regarding the “delegation of authority” caper. Basically, the board policy that defines delegation of authority to the senate (giving to the senate authority in 11 areas) explicitly precludes a unilateral change of the policy by the board. So, asked Peter, can the board act unilaterally? “Let’s hope that we don’t get there,” said Peter, for no one wants to pursue this matter in the courts. [Ultimately, the board did act unilaterally. —Ed.]

There was some disagreement concerning whether the change that the chancellor intends to recommend is “substantive.” After a while, partly owing to remarks by Ms. Collins, who seemed to be pretty sharp, it became abundantly clear that, contrary to the chancellor’s defenders—the Old Guard and Wagberg—the proposed change is indeed substantive.

At one point, I asked whether the board has in fact violated the existing policy—by failing to accept the senate’s recommendations (in the specified areas) or failing to provide written reasons for failing to accept them, as the policy requires. Eventually, it became clear that the board has indeed done so on several occasions. Such, at any rate, was the judgment of officers and senators of the Saddleback Academic Senate.

A defensive and clueless Nancy Padberg declared that there has been an “ongoing dialogue” for six months about these proposed changes, a point handily refuted by Anne Cox, who explained that no one had heard of the chancellor’s proposal until November or December. Anne and others rejected the notion, expressed by Sampson, that the senate does not understand its role. The problem is that the board does not accept the senate’s recommendations, contrary to board policy.

MacMillan

Someone (Anne?) offered the example of the Community Ed program that was in direct conflict with credit courses. In that matter, the Senate’s recommendation was simply ignored, and no written explanation was provided. “Professional leave” was also cited as an example.

Maureen S described how, during her tenure as senate president, the senate presidents were marginalized. First, they were moved from the meeting table; then their microphones were removed; and so on. Mickey M, who had also served as senate president, chimed in to explain that, when her hand went up at meetings, she was routinely ignored. There was a time, she said, when the faculty’s voice was valued; no longer. As things now stand, changes are just “given to us.”

A guy named Martin said we need to be entrepreneurial. Then Lee said something of about equal perspicacity.

Dale C chose that moment to announce: “I think the board is doing a great job,” whereupon Lee clapped loudly and alone.

And so it went. —CW

Club WASP (Lee W's Sons of the American Revolution)

By Big Bill

[From Dissent 41. “Big Bill” was one of Chunk Wheeler’s alter egos.]

“Shift that fat ass, Harry. But slowly, or you’ll swamp the damned boat.”

                                           —George Washington

I must say, I’m still reeling from that fine display of patriotism and tootage provided by Lee Walker’s “Sons of the American Revolution” last month (Dec. 13). That night, many of us, and not only Mr. Frogue, were struck by the same thought: How can I join the “Sons”?

Well, probably, we can’t. Upon opening the website for the National Society of the Sons of the American Revolution (SAR), I soon discovered that the SAR “is a ‘lineage’ society, which means you must have an ancestor who supported the cause of American Independence during the years 1774-1783.” Oh.

I wondered how many “Bauers” are Sons. Then I wondered how many Latinos, Asians, and African Americans are Sons. Not many, I bet. Actually, if you become a member of the SAR, you’re not called a “Son”; you’re called a “Compatriot.” Looks like Compatriots are a bunch of white guys with names like “Washington” and “Walker.” No wonder Mr. Frogue wants to join!

I wiped away a tear—no doubt, I’m a descendant of those devilish anti-Revolutionary Hessians—and then read on. “The SAR,” says the site, “is a historical, educational, and patriotic non-profit...corporation that seeks to maintain and extend,” among other things, “an appreciation for true patriotism” and “a respect for our national symbols.” [I am referring, of course, to the site as it appeared in 2000.]

National symbols? Sure enough, the SAR are pretty political, and they’ve come out in favor of an amendment to the Constitution “for the protection of the American flag.” Evidently, these Compatriots will defend with their lives—in weekend reenactments—the right of lawmakers to jail a guy for expressing his contempt for this fucked-up, flag-happy country.

The website, which is littered with photos of people who could easily have appeared in “Deliverance,” indicated that the SAR has a magazine, the articles of which were available with the click of my mouse. I clicked, and there appeared an article entitled “George Washington: the Greatest Patriot of All,” written by Compatriot Larry D. McClanahan.

Mr. McClanahan, who hails from Tennessee, complains that “recent historical efforts have been aimed at discrediting George Washington, his deeds, and the ideals defended by him and other founding Patriots.” I guess Larry means the slavery thing. George did own hundreds of slaves. Plus, he lost most of his battles and was into guerrilla warfare—and all because he didn’t like his tax bill!

McClanahan doesn’t want to talk about any of that, for he is obsessed with the notion that our national Dad was guided by the Lord, for, at one point, he notes that “Many students of George Washington’s life believe that he was led and protected by divine providence.” “Evidence,” writes the perspicacious McClanahan, is provided by George’s voyage to Barbados, where he became infected with smallpox but didn’t die. Imagine! Another time, he was in this battle, see, and he found bullet holes in his coat but not in him. Pretty spooky, I’d say.

An Indian chief said that George was protected by the Great Spirit, and so that clinched it.

McClanahan, ever the careful scholar, goes on to relate an “account,” according to which George “received a prophecy for the new nation from a specter [a malignant dwarf] who appeared to him late at night as he sat in his tent near the fire.” Wow.

In the end, says M, George died of a cold. No one knows if his coat died of that cold, too.

Another Compatriot, one James R. Westlake, offers an article entitled “Mount Vernon.” Like McClanahan, Westlake isn’t into “discrediting” George. Here’s how he describes Washington’s Mount Vernon estate: it “became a self-sustaining entity, which housed, fed, and clothed the many persons who lived on the lands and worked the farms. [Washington] was indeed a successful gentleman farmer....” Those “many persons” were pretty happy and carefree, I bet—when they weren’t being flogged and branded and stuff.

I looked and looked, and nowhere in the SAR site could I find my favorite George Washington story, which comes straight from General “Ox” Knox, who accompanied Washington across the Delaware—just before his troops sneak-attacked the Hessians on Christmas Day. According to Knox, when Washington stepped into the boat, he nudged his 280-pound friend and said, “Shift that fat ass, Harry. But slowly, or you’ll swamp the damned boat.” —BB

Red Emma's Poetry Korner (January 2000)

From Dissent 41

“It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier, who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.”

—“A Poem to a Soldier” by Father Dennis Edward O’Brien. U.S. Marine Corps Chaplain

 (Read at the Dec. 13 Board meeting.) 

     The assault on the body politic comprises, to put it militarily, a two-pronged strategy. Its onslaught on spirit is often as fierce as on the intellect and occasionally, as above, it is a simultaneous offensive, sublime in its total(itar)ity. 

     The above poem (sic), offered in strict tones by a presumed member of the Sons of the Revolution (a solemn daughter, actually), the local citizen PR militia, which bivouacked briefly at a recent SOCCCD Board Meeting, leaves even this hardened political reporter breathless. And keep in mind that Red has experienced actual personal conversations with Steve Frogue (alum, USMC) and Lee Walker, himself a member of the Fife and Dumb Corps which entertained the Board of Trustees that night. 

     Where to begin? As an educator and writer, I’ll resist the urge to explicate this bit of martialistic Ann Landersite barber shop inspiration. Its many errors speak for themselves, and loudly: single cause fallacy, either/or fallacy, cause/effect incongruity, ahistoricity, illogic, and so on. 

     Just one observation: As much as Red Emma opposes militarism and the military and soldiering generally, it’s important to note the good father’s utter contempt for the actual soldier, who is reduced, like the reporter, poet, and organizer, to a sad cartoon. Can’t soldiers also be poets, organizers, or reporters? No, not in the unvivid and fabulously one-dimensional civilian vs. soldier world of Padre Dennis, U.S.M.C. 

     Frankly, this kind of writing gives war a bad name. That the War Boosters show up at public education venues at SOCCCD Board meetings speaks both to their contempt for intellect and their commitment to a right-wing esprit de corps or, in this case, esprit de corpses. They toss up the moldering cadavers of victims of patriotic state terror in an attempt to intimidate the rest of us. Francis Scott Key. George Washington’s teeth. Paul Revere’s horse. This works in South Orange County. 

     Watch the Cox Communications video and be amazed: A group of off-key Minutemen staggers around the board chambers. Everybody pledges allegiance to Old Gory. An illiterate student reads a high school style chronology of George’s life: Born. Killed others. Elected President. Became a god. Dorothy basks in the Burt Parks role. Marcia pulls a bugle out of her ear. Drummer Lee nearly trips over the camera tripod. Embarrassed, frightened, or reduced perhaps to stunned disbelief, board members who might otherwise resist or object cannot, presumably for fear of being put in stocks, tarred and feathered—or otherwise politically attacked—by this minority of bunting-clad necrophiliacs. 

     Of course, the spectacle pretends to be about the idea that foreign powers might take over and deprive Orange County citizens of our sacred rights. A modest perusal of the record of recent U.S. wars indicates that none in the last 50 years has been anything other than a war of empire. Even WWII is today seen as something less than the “good war” once imagined by many. 

     But that’s not the point, is it? The point is to consolidate political power by wrapping everybody up in the flag, a tried and true strategy. 

     Here, then, is a modest corrective to the sadistic, cloying and repugnant versification of the Sons of Revolution and their dimwit spiritual leader. It’s a real-life song sung by real-life (later, real dead) British soldiers marching to their doom during World War I. You can hear it performed on CD by Red’s favorite band, Chumbawamba, a musical cooperative with perhaps a more realistic assessment of the war Game.

Hanging on the Old Barbed Wire

If you want to find the General, I know where he is 

He’s pinning another medal on his chest. 

I saw him pinning another medal on his chest 

If you want to find the Colonel, I know where he is. 

He’s sitting in comfort, stuffing his bloody gut. 

I saw him, I saw him, sitting in comfort Stuffing his bloody gut 

If you want to find the Sergeant, I know where he is. 

He’s drinking all the company rum. 

I saw him, I saw him, drinking all the company rum. 

If you want to find the Private, I know where he is. 

He’s hanging on the old barbed wire. 

I saw him, I saw him, hanging on the old barbed wire.

     Finally, two poetic suggestions from Red. First, insist on Board pre-meeting ceremonies which more accurately reflect the values of most South County voters. Upcoming events which might merit acknowledgement by our elected education officials: 

Martin Luther King Day (January 17), 

Angela Davis’s birthday (January 26), 

Bob Marley’s birthday (February 6), 

Susan B. Anthony’s birthday (February 15), 

Women’s History Month (March), 

Cesar Chavez’s birthday (March 31). 

     You get the idea. 

     Speaking of Cesar Chavez (a United States Navy veteran!), somebody needs to ask the SOCCCD Board to weigh in on the current effort to make the birthday of this internationally recognized fighter for justice and peace a state holiday. A resolution from our school board could only help the campaign, headed by state senator Richard Polanco to pass Senate Bill (SB) 984. 

     Many local governments and school boards across the state have publicly backed the bill. An earlier measure was passed by the California Legislature but vetoed by—surprise!—former Gov. Pete Wilson. 

     Red Emma attended a weekend rally in Santa Ana supporting the effort and was impressed with a college president I like to call the anti-Mathur. Rancho Santiago College President Enriqueta Ramos is some kind of dream. She’s elegant, competent, and her roots are community-based, not corporate. 

     In short, she’s on the right side, not the far-right. 

     Second, check out PBS’s upcoming “P.O.V.” airing of “Regret to Inform,” the documentary story of a recent U.S. war widow whose pilgrimage to Viet Nam explores the real meaning of organized state violence. 

     Peace. —RE

Andrew Tonkovich

Spring opening session; Union luncheon; Joint meeting/Academic Senates

Dissent 41

January 18, 2000

We are “Happy Teachers”

by Chunk Wheeler [Roy Bauer]

McKinney theater:

John Williams

     My winter break was a complete bust, what with my getting a bad case of sciatica and whatnot. Somehow, I went to “staff development” activities down at Saddleback College expecting to have my spirits raised. What was I thinking?

     Arriving at Saddleback’s McKinney theater at about 9:05, I grabbed some coffee and headed inside, where I sat pretty much in the middle. I espied Bob Kopfstein and Ray Chandos way off to my right; they whispering nastily. Just then, Pam Zanelli walked in, a haystack still on her head. Williams, Lang, and Milchiker were down toward the front, in the dignitary zone. Williams, looking staunch, was wedged in his seat like a square peg in a square hole.

     At about 9:10, facing a meager crowd of about 60, Cedric began to purr through his nose the way he does, pointing out, unpleasantly, that it wasn’t yet a new millennium, not for another year. Gotta get beyond Y2K thinking, said he. Off to the right, someone broke wind, and there was laughter.

     Sampson introduced the trustees, starting, naturally, with Williams. Then he thanked Maureen S for setting up the morning session, whereupon he explained the need for clarification of “roles and responsibilities.” Translation: “gotta put those goddam academic senates in their place.”

     The guest speaker—Ray Geigle, Dean of the School of Arts and Sciences at Cal State Bakersfield—seemed pretty cheerful for a guy who has to live in Bakersfield. He was a pretty good speaker, too, in stark contrast to Sampson.

     For no apparent reason, Geigle told a funny story about a philosophy course he took as an undergraduate. In class, the professor asked Geigle whether he understood the lecture. Geigle said he did. Said the professor: “Well, good, Geigle; if you understood it, then everyone did.” We all laughed, but it was a bitter laugh, for we thought: “how come we’re stuck with stiffs like Cedric while friggin’ Bakersfield gets this guy?”

     Geigle explained that 70% of the labor force is now in the service industry, and students need to understand that. Up in Bakersfield, lots of students want to go into agriculture, but that’s no good, ‘cuz, pretty soon, all of our crops will be grown by one guy on a computerized tractor, plowin’ computerized dirt.

     Said Geigle: used to be that kids could go into manufacturing and make some good money, buy a house, a car. Now, manufacturing is pretty damned cheap and efficient, and these manufacturing jobs have vanished. Gotta have knowledge; that’s the new commodity. 

     That has enormous implications for us in higher education, said Geigle. But higher Ed is a huge bureaucracy, and it isn’t flexible. We’ve gotta learn to compete with the likes of the University of Phoenix. (!) Organizations like that could, he said, “drive us out of business.” We can no longer afford to teach courses just because we want to teach ‘em; gotta tailor courses to what students need right now. If we don’t provide the courses, someone else will, said Geigle.

     He was starting to piss me off.

     Geigle talked about the globalization of the economy, which, he said, is now unstoppable. The world wide web is having an incredible effect, like nothing that’s come before it. Nobody knows where this train is going, in part because it has no engineer. We can’t predict how things will be 3 years from now. So flexibility’s the thing.

     Geigle seemed to say that the economy is becoming increasingly polarized between the unskilled, who are making five bucks an hour (or who make big bucks administering IVC), and the highly skilled, who are wealthy bastards with maids and chauffeurs. He also noted that, pretty soon, we’ll all have molecular computers implanted in our bodies.

     We’ve gotta tell our students more about the “texture of the job” they’re going into, said Geigle. A student might start out wanting to be, say, a traditional nurse, but he or she will end up shoving microcomputers up patients’ noses and then spinnin’ ‘em out the door.

     Sensing the need to end with something positive, Geigle was suddenly bullish about California. Our state, he said, has all of the attributes necessary for global leadership. The largest open markets are in the Pacific Rim, and California has great ports. Also, we’ve got this diversity thing nailed. We’re screwing up, though, ‘cuz we’re not teaching languages. Gotta get on that. Everybody must get multilingual.

     Geigle talked about our infrastructure, which has been badly neglected. Our generation has not done for its children, said G, what our parents did for theirs. Basically, said Geigle, we’re a bunch of assholes, and, looking over at Sampson and Williams, it was hard to disagree.

The Faculty Association Luncheon

     After that, I hung out with Bill for a bit, and then I wandered over to the union luncheon, where we all stood in line. Suddenly, Lee popped up, holding a copy of Dissent 40, which offered an account of his Dec. 13 drumming performance. He shook the thing at me and said, “Why don’t you distribute these around here!” I said, “I did, Lee. That’s why you’ve got one. Nice to see you, Lee.” His tail twitched.

     At long last, we got our food—there wasn’t much for vegetarians—and we sat down. I sat with Wendy, and others soon joined us. Cedric wandered over to greet people, but, though he stood only inches away from our table, he passed us by. I noticed Tony and Tom and Patrick over at one table, and Walter and Dale and Laurence at another. Larry and Moe and Curly were there, too.

     Huddling at the table next to the podium were Pam “Same Sex” Zanelli, John “PE Boy” Williams, Ray “White Wash Willy” Chandos, Bob “Anger Management” Kopfstein, Sherry “PAC Woman” Miller-White, Sharon “Tiny Tears” MacMillan, and Cedric “Just Waitin’ for Retirement” Sampson.

     Wow. An Axis meeting, right out in the open like that.

     Just before things got started, we heard a strange sound from nearby. We looked down. It was Lee, who whispered, “I see you choose your friends carefully.” Then he ran off.

     Ray was seated in front of the podium, so, when things got started, they moved him to a card table against the wall, where he chewed alone, while the adults continued to conspire at the big table.

     Sharon, wearing a brown suit with big gold buttons, introduced the featured speaker, who, as near as I can tell, was the caterer. He seemed like a nice fellow, though his address was uninspired. Later, he popped up to make a pitch for his restaurant.

     Next, President-elect Lee Haggerty spoke. He talked about our chapter’s reputation for getting good contracts. Haggerty seemed to think that he was addressing only Saddleback faculty, a motif that recurred during most of the presentations. Upon noting, gratuitously, that he had recently been chosen as Teacher of the Year, Lee said something about the need for “healing,” though he failed to specify the ailment from which he was suffering. “Let’s recommit ourselves to students,” he said. It’s our commitment to “empowerment of students” that made Saddleback what it is today, he added.

     After Maureen made an announcement concerning the “Great Teacher” seminar at Lake Arrowhead, Sharon introduced various dignitaries in the audience, including two trustees (Milchiker and Williams), the Chancellor, and President Bullock. Raghu P. Mathur was nowhere to be seen. Sharon, apparently about to break into tears, praised Williams for his support of the contract, especially with regard to the tiff over cost of living. Thanks to the outcome of the COLA wars, said she, “we’ll be happier teachers.”

     Next, the loathsome John Williams spoke; he wore a blue suit, Hitler hair, and a ridiculous tie apparently fashioned from an American flag—a clear violation of what the SAR call “flag etiquette.” He said: “Yeah, I supported you. Now, you damn well better support me in 2000.” —Well, no, he didn’t actually say that. What he actually said was, “Why am I here?” Really.

     Following Haggerty’s example, Williams spoke fondly of Saddleback College, which, he said, “changed my life.” He had intended to be a PE teacher and coach, but then he took some criminal law courses at the college, and the rest is history. (Yeah. In fact, he sat around eating doughnuts as a bailiff for 22 years. Naturally, after his doughnut period, he felt prepared to oversee a college district.)

     He said that we’ve recovered from the bankruptcy and the “future is very bright.” After underscoring his role in the COLA wars, he said, “I appreciate your support” and “Please email me.”

     Bob K got up to praise he and his cronies for their successes negotiating the contract. Bob explained that good salaries in the district started with a board member, who used to say, “You can’t pay a good teacher enough; you can’t fire a bad teacher fast enough.” Everyone nodded; Lee W winced.

     Sharon spoke about faculty evaluations, a bone of contention. The IVC Academic Senate has pursued a change in the evaluation procedures (for IVC) to bring them more in line with state guidelines, which favor inclusion of “peer evaluation.” Naturally, the Old Guard is against this. Sharon said that our existing “system” is very “liberal.” Hence, we “shouldn’t change it.” Ray C got up to make similar noises. He seemed to suggest that our peers can’t be trusted to evaluate us, but deans can. In fact, however, in December, an administrator at IVC was pressured by King Raghu to place an utterly undeserved negative remark in a faculty critic’s teaching evaluation. What about that, Ray?

The joint meeting of the academic senates

     An hour or two later, we headed to BGS for a joint meeting of the academic senates, with Anne Cox and Peter Morrison presiding. The chancellor, of course, has recently expressed his intention to urge the modification of the board policy concerning delegation of authority to the academic senates. This effort by the chancellor (and, no doubt, the Board Majority) to reduce senate authority turned out to be the sole topic of the meeting.

     Lee Walker was there. Amidst much groaning, he held up a recent Times article which described the “insulting” and “juvenile” anonymous newsletters that have cropped up at Saddleback College in response to the Dissent. He then held up a copy of Dissent 40, which, he said, has an article by “Chuck Wheeler”—implying, of course, that the Dissent, too, offers anonymous writings. At that point, I announced (politely) that “My name appears at the end of the article, Lee.” (Evidently, the poor fellow can’t read.)

     Anne introduced some visitors, including Linda Collins of the State Academic Senate and trustees Nancy Padberg and Don Wagner. Wagner explained, rather ominously, that he will “report back to the board” what the senators have to say. He then added, contrary to all reason, that there is no effort afoot by anyone to change the scope of the exiting board policy regarding delegation of authority. What’s that boy been smokin’?

     Lee asked an incoherent question about the Brown Act, which produced a quizzical look on Ms. Collins’ face. “I’m not quite clear what the point is,” said she.

     Peter laid out the essential facts regarding the “delegation of authority” caper. Basically, the board policy that defines delegation of authority to the senate (giving to the senate authority in 11 areas) explicitly precludes a unilateral change of the policy by the board. So, asked Peter, can the board act unilaterally? “Let’s hope that we don’t get there,” said Peter, for no one wants to pursue this matter in the courts.

     There was some disagreement concerning whether the change that the chancellor intends to recommend is “substantive.” After a while, partly owing to remarks by Ms. Collins, who seemed to be pretty sharp, it became abundantly clear that, contrary to the chancellor’s defenders—the Old Guard and Wagberg—the proposed change is indeed substantive.

Wagner

     At one point, I asked whether the board has in fact violated the existing policy—by failing to accept the senate’s recommendations (in the specified areas) or failing to provide written reasons for failing to accept them, as the policy requires. Eventually, it became clear that the board has indeed done so on several occasions. Such, at any rate, was the judgment of officers and senators of the Saddleback Academic Senate.

     A defensive and clueless Nancy Padberg declared that there has been an “ongoing dialogue” for six months about these proposed changes, a point handily refuted by Anne Cox, who explained that no one had heard of the chancellor’s proposal until November or December. Anne and others rejected the notion, expressed by Sampson, that the senate does not understand its role. The problem is that the board does not accept the senate’s recommendations, contrary to board policy.

     Someone (Anne?) offered the example of the Community Ed program that was in direct conflict with credit courses. In that matter, the Senate’s recommendation was simply ignored, and no written explanation was provided. “Professional leave” was also cited as an example.

     Maureen S described how, during her tenure as senate president, the senate presidents were marginalized. First, they were moved from the meeting table; then their microphones were removed; and so on. Mickey M, who had also served as senate president, chimed in to explain that, when her hand went up at meetings, she was routinely ignored. There was a time, she said, when the faculty’s voice was valued; no longer. As things now stand, changes are just “given to us.”

     A guy named Martin said we need to be entrepreneurial. Then Lee said something of about equal perspicacity.

     Dale C chose that moment to announce: “I think the board is doing a great job,” whereupon Lee clapped loudly and alone.

     And so it went.  —CW

Club WASP

Dissent 41

January 18, 2000

Club WASP

By Big Bill [Roy Bauer] 

      “Shift that fat ass, Harry. But slowly, or you’ll swamp the damned boat.” [--George Washington]

     I must say, I’m still reeling from that fine display of patriotism and tootage provided by Lee Walker’s “Sons of the American Revolution” last month (Dec. 13). That night, many of us, and not only Mr. Frogue, were struck by the same thought: How can I join the “Sons”?

     Well, probably, we can’t. Upon opening the website for the National Society of the Sons of the American Revolution, I soon discovered that the SAR “is a ‘lineage’ society, which means you must have an ancestor who supported the cause of American Independence during the years 1774-1783.” Oh.

     I wondered how many “Bauers” are Sons. Then I wondered how many Latinos, Asians, and African Americans are Sons. Not many, I bet. Actually, if you become a member of the SAR, you’re not called a “Son”; you’re called a “Compatriot.” Looks like Compatriots are a bunch of white guys with names like “Washington” and “Walker.” No wonder Mr. Frogue wants to join!

     I wiped away a tear—no doubt, I’m a descendant of those devilish anti-Revolutionary Hessians—and then read on. “The SAR,” says the site, “is a historical, educational, and patriotic non-profit...corporation that seeks to maintain and extend,” among other things, “an appreciation for true patriotism” and “a respect for our national symbols.”

     National symbols? Sure enough, the SAR are pretty political, and they’ve come out in favor of an amendment to the Constitution “for the protection of the American flag.” Evidently, these Compatriots will defend with their lives—in weekend reenactments—the right of lawmakers to jail a guy for expressing his contempt for this fucked-up, flag-happy country.

     The website, which is littered with photos of people who could easily have appeared in “Deliverance,” indicated that the SAR has a magazine, the articles of which were available with the click of my mouse. I clicked, and there appeared an article entitled “George Washington: the Greatest Patriot of All,” written by Compatriot Larry D. McClanahan.

     Mr. McClanahan, who hails from Tennessee, complains that “recent historical efforts have been aimed at discrediting George Washington, his deeds, and the ideals defended by him and other founding Patriots.” I guess Larry means the slavery thing. George did own hundreds of slaves. Plus, he lost most of his battles and was into guerrilla warfare—and all because he didn’t like his tax bill!

     McClanahan doesn’t want to talk about any of that, for he is obsessed with the notion that our national Dad was guided by the Lord, for, at one point, he notes that “Many students of George Washington’s life believe that he was led and protected by divine providence.” “Evidence,” writes the perspicacious McClanahan, is provided by George’s voyage to Barbados, where he became infected with smallpox but didn’t die. Imagine! Another time, he was in this battle, see, and he found bullet holes in his coat but not in him. Pretty spooky, I’d say. An Indian chief said that George was protected by the Great Spirit, and so that clinched it.

     McClanahan, ever the scholar, goes on to relate an “account,” according to which George “received a prophecy for the new nation from a specter [a malignant dwarf] who appeared to him late at night as he sat in his tent near the fire.” Wow.

     In the end, says M, George died of a cold. No one knows if his coat died of that cold, too.

     Another Compatriot, one James R. Westlake, offers an article entitled “Mount Vernon.” Like McClanahan, Westlake isn’t into “discrediting” George. Here’s how he describes Washington’s Mount Vernon estate: it “became a self-sustaining entity, which housed, fed, and clothed the many persons who lived on the lands and worked the farms. [Washington] was indeed a successful gentleman farmer....” Those “many persons” were pretty happy and carefree, I bet—when they weren’t being flogged and branded and stuff.

     I looked and looked, and nowhere in the SAR site could I find my favorite George Washington story, which comes straight from General “Ox” Knox, who accompanied Washington across the Delaware—just before his troops sneak-attacked the Hessians on Christmas Day. According to Knox, when Washington stepped into the boat, he nudged his 280-pound friend and said, “Shift that fat ass, Harry. But slowly, or you’ll swamp the damned boat.” —BB

Red Emma’s Poetry Korner

Dissent 41

January 18, 2000

Red Emma’s Poetry Korner

“It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier, who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.”

—“A Poem to a Soldier” by Father Dennis Edward O’Brien. U.S. Marine Corps Chaplain (Read at the Dec. 13 Board meeting.)

     

     The assault on the body politic comprises, to put it militarily, a two-pronged strategy. Its onslaught on spirit is often as fierce as on the intellect and occasionally, as above, it is a simultaneous offensive, sublime in its total(itar)ity. The above poem (sic), offered in strict tones by a presumed member of the Sons of the Revolution (a solemn daughter, actually), the local citizen PR militia which bivouacked briefly at a recent SOCCCD Board Meeting, leaves even this hardened political reporter breathless. And keep in mind that Red has experienced actual personal conversations with Steve Frogue (alum, USMC) and Lee Walker, himself a member of the Fife and Dumb Corps which entertained the Board of Trustees that night.

            Where to begin? As an educator and writer, I’ll resist the urge to explicate this bit of martialistic Ann Landersite barber shop inspiration. Its many errors speak for themselves, and loudly: single cause fallacy, either/or fallacy, cause/effect incongruity, ahistoricity, illogic, and so on. Just one observation: As much as Red Emma opposes militarism and the military and soldiering generally, it’s important to note the good father’s utter contempt for the actual soldier, who is reduced, like the reporter, poet, and organizer, to a sad cartoon. Can’t soldiers also be poets, organizers, or reporters? No, not in the unvivid and fabulously one-dimensional civilian vs. soldier world of Padre Dennis, U.S.M.C. Frankly, this kind of writing gives war a bad name.

            That the War Boosters show up at public education venues at SOCCCD Board meetings speaks both to their contempt for intellect and their commitment to a right-wing esprit de corps or, in this case, esprit de corpses. They toss up the moldering cadavers of victims of patriotic state terror in an attempt to intimidate the rest of us. Francis Scott Key. George Washington’s teeth. Paul Revere’s horse. This works in South Orange County. Watch the Cox Communications video and be amazed: A group of off-key Minutemen staggers around the board chambers. Everybody pledges allegiance to Old Gory. An illiterate student reads a high school style chronology of George’s life: Born. Killed others. Elected President. Became a god.

            Dorothy basks in the Burt Parks role. Marcia pulls a bugle out of her ear. Drummer Lee nearly trips over the camera tripod. Embarrassed, frightened, or reduced perhaps to stunned disbelief, board members who might otherwise resist or object cannot, presumably for fear of being put in stocks, tarred and feathered—or otherwise politically attacked—by this minority of bunting-clad necrophiliacs.

            Of course, the spectacle pretends to be about the idea that foreign powers might take over and deprive Orange County citizens of our sacred rights. A modest perusal of the record of recent U.S. wars indicates that none in the last 50 years has been anything other than a war of empire. Even WWII is today seen as something less than the “good war” once imagined by many.

            But that’s not the point, is it? The point is to consolidate political power by wrapping everybody up in the flag, a tried and true strategy.

            Here, then, is a modest corrective to the sadistic, cloying and repugnant versification of the Sons of Revolution and their dimwit spiritual leader. It’s a real-life song sung by real-life (later, real dead) British soldiers marching to their doom during World War I. You can hear it performed on CD by Red’s favorite band, Chumbawamba, a musical cooperative with perhaps a more realistic assessment of the war Game.

Hanging on the Old Barbed Wire

If you want to find the General, I know where he is. He’s pinning another medal on his chest. I saw him pinning another medal on his chestIf you want to find the Colonel, I know where he is. He’s sitting in comfort, stuffing his bloody gut. I saw him, I saw him, sitting in comfort Stuffing his bloody gutIf you want to find the Sergeant, I know where he is. He’s drinking all the company rum.I saw him, I saw him, drinking all the company rum. If you want to find the Private, I know where he is. He’s hanging on the old barbed wire. I saw him, I saw him, hanging on the old barbed wire.

     Finally, two poetic suggestions from Red. First, insist on Board pre-meeting ceremonies which more accurately reflect the values of most South County voters. Upcoming events which might merit acknowledgement by our elected education officials: Martin Luther King Day (January 17), Angela Davis’s birthday (January 26), Bob Marley’s birthday (February 6), Susan B. Anthony’s birthday (February 15), Women’s History Month (March), Cesar Chavez’s birthday (March 31). You get the idea.

     Speaking of Cesar Chavez (a United States Navy veteran!), somebody needs to ask the SOCCCD Board to weigh in on the current effort to make the birthday of this internationally recognized fighter for justice and peace a state holiday. A resolution from our school board could only help the campaign, headed by state senator Richard Polanco to pass Senate Bill (SB) 984. Many local governments and school boards across the state have publicly backed the bill. An earlier measure was passed by the California Legislature but vetoed by—surprise!—former Gov. Pete Wilson. Red Emma attended a weekend rally in Santa Ana supporting the effort and was impressed with a college president I like to call the anti-Mathur. Rancho Santiago College President Enriqueta Ramos is some kind of dream. She’s elegant, competent, and her roots are community-based, not corporate. In short, she’s on the right side, not the far-right.

            Second, check out PBS’s upcoming “P.O.V.” airing of “Regret to Inform,” the documentary story of a recent U.S. war widow whose pilgrimage to Viet Nam explores the real meaning of organized state violence.

            Peace.  —RE

Andrew Tonkovich