I ATTENDED the Board Forum at Irvine Valley College today, and it was fun! Really!
Considering that it was announced only two days ago and scheduled for a Friday afternoon, it was remarkably well attended, though not by faculty. A friend said she counted about ten instructors in the room.
I should mention that the board holds these forums infrequently, and, near as I could tell, my colleagues who attended this forum appreciated the opportunity to interact with the trustees. A PLAQUE FOR WAYNE:
Things got rolling just after 2:00. Trustee Tom Fuentes invoked the Lord, and then we all pledged to the flag. Next came the presentation of a plaque to exiting Director of Facility and Maintenance, Wayne Ward. Board President Dave Lang announced that the board wanted to “recognize all the terrific work” that the Waynster had done over the years.
I scanned the room for wry expressions. People were being mighty good. —They didn’t applaud though.
Chancellor Raghu P. Mathur then explained that the purpose of the forum was to answer questions and whatnot. “Let the Q & A begin,” he said.
There was silence, no Q. Finally, an administrator asked the trustees, “What would you like to see happen at the college?” Don Wagner then explained that he wanted to see everyone working together collegially. With that, he subtly launched the canard that the real problem with this district isn’t a rogue board and its toady, but the district’s fractious and unseemly faculty troublemakers.
OFF-CAMPUS SITES:
Eventually, Fuentes said that he supported Bill Jay’s dream of slathering our pedagogy all over the map via off-campus sites. Then someone got all empirical and asked just how many off-campus sites we now have. Glenn Roquemore or Dave Anderson said something like, “a zillion, more or less.” Well, no, but the number was very high, maybe twenty-seven.
Twenty-seven? We all stared at each other. Suddenly, it seemed like our problem was that we’ve just got way too much hangin’ out there, off-campuswise!
John Williams explained that this is an exciting time, owing to our Basic Aid funding, which allows us to collect huge piles of property tax money to pay for all sorts of wonderful things. True enough. (Trustee Fuentes has recently warned that the Basic Aid gravy train could end, what with the housing market being what it is.)
THE ACCREDITATION QUESTION:
I offered a question. I said that the Accreditation Commission is once again demanding that the board cease micromanaging, and yet, in recent months, one board member (I didn't mention Mr. Wagner's name) has declared that at least some of the Accred’s charges of micromanagement are mistaken. How, I asked, can we emerge from this Accreditation process if trustees take this kind of defiant stance?
Wagner is not alone. Last Spring, Mr. Fuentes openly opined that the problem with the district isn't so much board micromanagement as "macromanagement" by others. He was referring to faculty.
Trustee Fuentes commenced speechifying. Affecting a manner of smiley omniscience, he explained that, sadly, there are “elements” within our district who remain determined to “propogate the negative.” Somehow, he said, all these “employee-management issues” become the focus, and so our accreditation suffers.
Don Wagner—the defiant board member to whom I had alluded—then stated that he “disagreed with the premise” of my question, namely, the premise that our accreditation might get pulled.
No way, said Don.
Bill Jay then argued for the thesis that “some micromanagement” is good. For instance, during a crisis, micromanagement is just the thing.
I got a chance to respond. I noted that the issue isn’t whether there are kinds of micromanagement that are good—that’s a “red herring,” I said. No, the issue concerns the kinds of micromanagement that the board has been accused of engaging in. That's not the "crisis" kind. Are trustees gonna cease that kind or are they gonna dig in their heels and say it isn't micromanagement?
I turned to Mr. Wagner. I explained that the premise of my question was not that our Accreditation is at risk—I know that it isn’t, I said—but that trustee defiance ensures that we will continue with the effort—and embarrassment—of report after report. That's been going on for years now.
Mr. Wagner then stated that, maybe not CHUNK, but some faculty have mongered accreditation fear among innocent students!
Frankly, none of my students ever expresses that fear, although, occasionally, some reveal, with bemusement, that they are aware of the controversy over our accreditation, etc.
All you boots on the ground: do any of you encounter students who worry about our accreditaiton? If so, let us know! Speak up!
I explained to Mr. Wagner that he might feel comfortable with our endless Accreditation gauntlet, but he’s not among those who have to produce the lengthy Accreditation Reports. “We” do that, I said, referring to the college.
CONSPIRACY THEORY:
Right about then, Mr. Fuentes, with manifest incredulousness, declared, “Well, we all know where [the Accreds] get their information!”
He was expressing a worldview, which he has articulated more than once in the last year, according to which faculty control the accreditation process. In his mind, it's a rigged system.
“Oh, you mean your conspiracy theory!” I said. “Tell us about that! How does that work?"
Excitement filled the air!
Near as I could tell, several of the trustees—certainly Fuentes, Wagner, and Lang—gave each other a bemused and languorous “ha ha, we know about the Accreditation scheme, don’t we boys?” look.
But they weren’t going to take my bait. Nope. They clammed up.
My God. Some of these people live on freakin' Fantasy Island.
Eventually, Nancy Padberg spoke. She said: “micromanagement is a good thing, really, because it means you’re involved.” I studied Dave Lang’s face. He didn't grimace much, really.
John Williams then explained that it is a natural tendency of elected trustees, city council members, and the like, “to want to get involved in things.” He didn’t think the micromanagement that goes on in our district was as bad as it has been portrayed as being.
(Har har har. He then told of how, years ago, a few trustees, administrators, and faculty leaders would meet out on a boat in Dana Point Harbor to work out the contract and such. They'd shake hands and that was that. —Ah, the good old days!)
A classified employee who works with students reported that she doesn't hear them expressing fears of accreditation loss. She expressed the concern that our “distance ed” offerings do not include enough “foundational” courses to keep students at our college.
REASSIGNED TIME:
THEN, a long-time member of the School of Humanities and Languages—one with a stellar reputation as a teacher—spoke. She explained that, over the years, her relationship with her students has “eroded” in some ways, for she has less and less time to spend with them. She cited some of the non-instructional tasks that seem to have piled up over the last few years: program review, curriculum updates, SLOs, and, now, pressure to pursue distance ed.
That led to a point about reassigned time: i.e., course work from which an instructor is “released” so that he or she can devote time and energy to some non-instructional activity—e.g., chairing a department or a committee. Reassigned time is utterly routine in academia, but not in the SOCCCD.
A "ban" on reassigned time was among the innovations of the bad old "Board Majority"/Union Old Guard Axis that emerged in 1996, thanks to the union's homophobic fliers. Naturally, the ban didn't apply to union officers.
Since then, the absurdity of the ban has produced more exceptions, but reassigned time is kept by Mathur and the Board to an unworkably low level. It's yet another source of low morale.
As things stand, said the instructor, academic chairs (among others doing substantial extra-instructional work) get no reassigned time. Instead, they must teach a full load of classes and then take on chair duties on top of that. As compensation, they receive a stipend.
“I don’t need more money,” she said. “I need time.”
We all laughed at that one. No, we need more money too. But the point was that one can’t teach a full load and then do all of this other work. (Well, maybe some can; but many can’t.) Given the ban on reassigned time, increasingly, the very best faculty will simply refuse to do these jobs. She, for one, would never accept the job of chairing her department.
Mr. Wagner seemed frustrated. He argued that giving the excellent instructor reassigned time removes her from the classroom, so what about that?
“Our adjuncts are excellent,” responded the instructor. Another instructor—one from the School of Fine Arts—chimed in to make the same point: if she were given reassignment for a course, the adjunct who would replace her would be excellent.
Reassigned time doesn’t deprive students of good teachers, Don.
Marcia Milchiker suggested that the best way to increase the availability of reassigned time is through contract negotiations. (Hear that, Faculty Association?)
Then JOHN WILLIAMS weighed in. Trustees shouldn’t be involved in this matter, he said. We’ve got these CEOs who can get together and make the appropriate decisions about reassigned time, said John. This is “not a trustee issue."
That sounded awfully good. What’s gotten into the fellow?
CLUELESS?
I don’t recall what went on immediately after that—I stopped taking notes—but people started squirming like they do, cuz it was nearing 3:00 p.m.
I managed to get the last question. I referred to Mr. Fuentes’ earlier remark about “negativity.” I explained that I know the people who write the Accreditation reports. They are, I said, some of the best, the most conscientious, the hardest-working and honest people in the district.
“How do you think they feel,” I asked, “when trustees embrace the incompetent notion that the Accreditation process is rigged or dishonest?”
“It amazes me that you can be that clueless.”
Upon declaring that my question was actually a statement, Mr. Lang simply concluded the meeting. And that was about it.
Have a great weekend. —CW
