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| ATEP's official "opening": some time in the last dozen years |
IT’S A BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD WORLD!
By Big Bill [i.e., Roy Bauer]
[Dissent 16, 1/11/99]
January 7, 1999
“News at eleven!”:
What a week it’s been.
Last Thursday (the 31st), I spent much of the day hanging out with Buster and my sister Annie—she was down for a visit—and intermittently communicating with my lawyer [Carol Sobel] and Kimberly Kindy of the Register [nowadays with the Washington Post]. Kindy, fearing scoopage by the Times, insisted on putting out a story about the Chancellor’s recent action against me. We filed in Federal Court that day, naming Cedric “Spanky” Sampson. Other names will be added. (See Bauer v. Sampson, 2001 for the final disposition of the case, upon appeal.)
The next day, Friday, the excrement hit the fan. Kindy’s story appeared, not only in the Register, but in the San Francisco Chronicle and who knows where else. It was picked up by the Associated Press, and so a truncated version of the story appeared in other outlets, including the LA Times and various radio and TV newscasts around the country. These truncations yielded a version of the story that, to my mind, seemed to say: VULGARIAN’S RIGHTS VIOLATED!
In fact, in about 35 issues of ‘Vines and Dissents, seldom if ever has anything like the inelegant “beemer up the butt” paragraph appeared. Nevertheless, the press seized upon that example, ignoring all else. Heimat Land!
By Monday, I was talking to a reporter with the Chronicle of Higher Education, among others. I told her the facts, as usual. She seemed to say, “You’ve got to be kidding. What kind of ***holes run your district?” I got that reaction from more than one reporter, and that made me feel better.
Monday night, I dropped Annie off at the airport. It was great having her around during those crazy first few days of unwanted fame. We have much in common. Long ago, quite independently, we decided to become vegetarians, for we like animals, including the human kind, and so, naturally, we do not want to participate in hurting them. Have I mentioned that we were raised by wolves in the mountains of British Columbia? Arf, arf.
El Ced:
Tuesday morning, I attended Chancellor Sampson’s address down at Saddleback in the cavernous McKinney Theater. On my way there from the parking lot, I stepped in some disgusting goo, and I noticed, too, that the campus was redolent of sewage. (Later, I encountered some workers who were pumping stinkwater from out of a manhole near the Library.) Despite these obstacles, I found my way to the theater and entered.
It was nearly empty. Eventually, I counted about 100 people, nearly all seated in the back and along the sides. John Williams was there, looking as disgruntled as usual. He walked in with Raghu P. Mathur and Glenn “Dandy” Roquemore, the latter looking as gruntled as usual if not more so. The three seated themselves in awkward proximity, creating a grotesque little cluster of loutishness and ambition. Nice suits, though.
At 9:17, the Chancellor began to speak. “Good morning,” he said. And then, absurdly, he added: “Nice to see so many happy faces here,” a line that bounced around the walls of the empty hall for several seconds. I sat smack dab in the middle of the audience, nearly alone, affecting a lugubrious expression. Sampson tried hard not to see me.
Next came introductions of some visiting bigwigs, starting with Williams and then moving on to Nancy Padberg, one of the new trustees. Marcia Milchiker was introduced last for some reason. I seem to recall that Sampson also mentioned Trustee President Dot Fortune, who was not actually present, though she was there in spirit, a kind of moral stinkwater that covered the ground and filled the air. Dot gives Cedric his marching orders each morning. Despite her zany past (witchcraft, professional wrestling) and her manifest looniness and boorishness (she drives everyone nuts), she is now the Empress of SOCCCD, the “brains” of the operation. Good Lord. (I was just kidding about the professional wrestling.)
At about that time, a confused-looking Lee Walker waddled into the building and sat himself down about 5 seats to my left. As he sat down, he seemed to hunt briefly for a seatbelt.
Simpering Sam commenced speaking to the empty room; he told it that he wanted to share his thoughts and impressions. Though he professed wanting badly to hear from faculty, paradoxically, on this occasion in which an opportunity clearly presented itself, he failed to solicit comments and questions, borrowing a well-worn page from the Raghu P. Mathur playbook.
Alas, our image in the educational community and beyond has gone south, said Sampson. Everyone seems to be focusing on our problems, not our accomplishments, said he. Not that we don’t have problems. But, he suggested, many of us are excessively devoted to “internal struggles.”
He was saying, in effect, that we should just stop complaining. According to the Chancellor, then, when the board repeatedly violates the Open Meetings law, we should say nothing. When a college president flouts shared governance requirements and harasses faculty critics, we should say nothing. When the union leadership declares an election “null and void” because it doesn’t like its results, we should say nothing. When the Chancellor places an accusatory letter in an instructor’s file without bothering to make inquiries about the justice of the charges—or providing the instructor a chance to contest them—we should say nothing. And when faculty critics are ordered to seek counseling, we should SAY NOTHING.
Imagine a population inclined to take such advice. Just add water, and you’ve got a Holocaust.
The Cedric next spoke of fiscal matters; he seemed to want to deny that we have financial problems any longer. His reasoning seemed to be: “Since money is no longer a central problem for the district, it isn’t really any problem at all!” We’ve moved from level 2 to level 3 on the state’s fiscal watch list, he said. Maybe, by next year, he added cheerily, we won’t be on the list at all!
Then came my favorite Sampsonian remark of the morning: “No one is to blame for where we are today.” I do believe he meant to say only that, “if we focus entirely on blame, we won’t progress.” But, in fact, he said no one is to blame.
Isn’t that obviously false? Personally, I’m in favor of people being accountable for the messes they make. Could it be that our new Chancellor is into New Age psychology?
Having listed the board’s goals for the district, Sampson proceeded to explain that each of us has the power to affect enrollments positively. For instance, he said, we should reassure students about our accreditation, for it isn’t threatened.
Now just what is the Chancellor suggesting that we do? For instance, soon, the Accreditation Reports will be released. They will say, “Get your acts together, you idiots, or else!” Is Sampson advising us to hide this from students? Guess so.
He moved on to the issue of student access, describing the Tustin “Learning Village” and facilities at the El Toro base. He displayed a slide labeled, “The airport and open space plan/year 2020 concept C.”
Airport? Weren’t the two new trustees elected on the basis of a promise to fight the airport? Boy, things sure do get complicated in the SOCCCD.
The Chancellor then described the second district technology initiative, which will go beyond providing mere “communication” and will provide s “pedagogical tools.” “We need to press the use of technology in the classroom,” he said. That’ll take money.
Sampson, who stammered through much of his address, seemed relieved to turn the mike over to the lively and articulate Dr. Sam Chan.
“EK” cetera:
Professor Chan’s address sported one of those “colon” titles—“Virtual Diversity: Responding to California’s Changing Population.” According to the Flex Week schedule, “Dr. Chan is recognized for his expertise in diversity issues and the design of training models to promote intercultural competence.”
The guest speaker—half Chinese, half Scotch/Irish, he said—seemed aware that our district suffers from internal conflicts, for he went out of his way to explain that conflict is not all bad. In the Eastern Tradition, he said, conflict is viewed as a “gift of energy.”
Eventually, Chan settled into discussing diversity. By the year 2040, he said, California’s population will be very different. He spoke of “the browning of America,” and he discussed how “cultural competence” issues will be increasingly forced upon us. The likeable Dr. Chan showed a video clip to illustrate differences in communication styles between cultures. It depicted a (clearly staged) exchange between a white male professor and a student from the nation of Cameroon. The white guy acted like a dope. At the end of the clip, the video commanded: “Pause for reflection. Discuss.” And we did.
Chan said that the communication conflicts depicted in the video “play themselves out in the classroom.” I have no reason to doubt it.
For a moment, there were signs of life in the audience. Someone way in the back (where almost everyone was) asked Chan whether immigrants should be made to adjust to “our” way of doing things or “we” should accommodate the immigrants. Chan sagely suggested that the situation should be a “two way street.” Students need to gain “survival skills,” but educators need to find “common ground” with these students.
The otherwise articulate Chan is a member of “team EK cetera”—those educators who seem unable or unwilling properly to pronounce the phrase “et cetera.” I mention this only because, as the week wore on, I found that, goddamit, virtually all the flex week guest speakers that I encountered spewed numerous EK ceteras at the audience.
Nevertheless, Professor Chan’s presentation was pleasant and helpful, a mild success, if success is possible in a nearly empty room down at Stinkwater Junction, the House of Dot. When we broke for lunch, I ventured down to the stage to thank Chan for his efforts. Sampson and Williams stood directly in my path, and so I said “Excuse me,” and walked between them. (More violence! More intimidation!) I saw Williams involuntarily reach for his Colt. Sampson hissed into my ear.
Not really. In truth, everyone was terribly pleasant. It was as though we were at a college or something—you know, where people get to express their opinions without being sent to the loony bin.
Outside, I spoke briefly with Margaret Hoyos, the local CCA (CTA) rep. Twice, we were heckled by a certain instructor, who did his best to impersonate a wandering and disheveled schizophrenic. “Who’s that?”, she asked. “Why, it’s just the odious Mr. P,” I said. “He’s one of the union regulars!”
By the way: some instructors at Saddleback—Old Guard union cronies all—have been involved in truly ugly episodes involving hitting and even injury. I wonder if they were ordered to seek “anger management” counseling? I wonder if anything appears in their personnel files?
“Going Nowhere”:
On Wednesday at about 8:00, I attended IVC’s “President’s Welcome Address and Breakfast,” where the following was projected upon a screen:
President’s Address
Welcome Back to the Spring Semester 1999[?]
Raghu P. Mathur, Ed.D.
President, IVC
Observe the letters after Raghu’s name. Raghu now refers to himself as “Dr. Mathur.” Evidently, he found a diploma in a box of Cracker Jack and decided to go with it. Good for him, I say. At one point, he announced his new title and then waited for applause. Feeble clappage washed over him. He feigned humility.
Raghu thanked us for the excellent work we do and have done. He seemed flustered—evidently, he expected trustees to be present, but none could be found. He settled for President Bullock, whom he described as a “true professional.” She walked up and said Bla Bla Bla Bla Bla.
Various other people in the room were identified, including new hires. As usual, Raghu forced us to applaud twice for each person, a truly, deeply annoying practice, reason enough to demand his resignation. [Since this piece was written, I’ve learned that this odd practice originated with Tom Fuentes, chairman of the OC GOP. Fuentes joined the board in July of 1999—seven months after the event reported here.] He thanked Tom Mucciaro, too. This time, Tom didn’t arrange for his Scoutmaster to speak. I think we should go back to the Scoutmaster.
When I first arrived, I found a table near the front at which Tamara C. was seated. I asked her if she minded my sitting there, and she said no. I sat down, leaving an empty chair between us. Soon, a good looking fellow wandered in and sat between us. He was Robert Barr, the main “keynote speaker” for the occasion. (There were two “keynote” speakers.) I introduced myself, as did Tamara. He seemed like a nice guy, and we talked.
I happened to leave a copy of Dissent XV in front of me. (It’s just possible I put it there on purpose.) Barr kept craning his neck to read it, so I handed it to him. “Here. For you.” He was enthralled by it. And why not? He read it while Herr Doktor Mathur spoke. (Everyone’s been saying that our Chancellor looks good in a dress. [See Dissent XV.] I wondered if Barr agreed.)
After the introductions, president Mathur, who suffered from a cold, explained that he would comment on several things. He spoke of the organizational review on which the board will take final action on the 25th. Bla Bla Bla.
Raghu then espied John “Strict Accountability!” Williams and Nancy “No Airport!” Padberg, and his spirits palpably improved. Williams came up and explained that our financial situation looks good, thanks to the diligent efforts of the trustees, those staunch fiscal conservatives. As usual, he failed to mention that he was as responsible as anyone—and more responsible than most—for our fiscal woes. “We hope to be off the watch list by fall,” said he. Gee, thanks, College Boy.
Raghu made trustee Padberg speak, too. She indicated that she is impressed with the personnel she has met at the college.
Back to Raghu. He explained that the college will be advertising 9 new positions though, realistically, we can only expect to get 2 or 3. It’s “a good way to go,” he said.
I don’t think so. If we are advertising 9 positions despite knowing that (very probably) only 2 positions are real, then, in the case of 7 positions, we are advertising in bad faith, causing hundreds of people to apply and dozens to be interviewed—for nothing. No decent institution would do that.
Trustee Don Wagner showed up, and, naturally, Raghu made him come up to speak, which he was more than happy to do. Wagner said that he has enjoyed meeting and talking with faculty and others. He acknowledged, refreshingly, that the trustees are far removed from what’s actually going on in the colleges, and they need to work against that. He invited us to call him at work to express our concerns. He was impressed, he said, that everyone with whom he has met is concerned about students. He suggested that concern for students is perhaps our unifying factor.
Mathur went back to his blathering. He crowed about the many avenues of communication he has allegedly opened—new and different ways for him to express his autocratic will. He expressed hope that communication with the Academic Senate would improve. (As things stand, IVC Senate officers, who are now compelled to perform their duties as overload, don’t have the time to do the work. The upshot: the Senate may essentially shut down this semester. That, of course, should streamline Raghu’s communication with the Senate considerably.)
Eventually, he spoke about the Tustin Base. Our role there, he said, is “up to us.” Evidently, we have been informed by the Chancellor that the process whereby a college is selected for involvement at Tustin is “competitive between the two colleges.” Raghu, of course, has allowed IVC to fall way behind in this competition. He will never admit this. He never acknowledges discrete errors of his own.
After a while, Raghu spoke of “greatness” and commenced comparing himself with Abraham Lincoln. Having read a book about the man, Raghu decided that there are “three qualities of greatness”: being focused on self-mastery, fixity of purpose, and malice toward none. These are, he said, “my goals.” Achieving these goals is a “tall order,” he added.
Then things got really weird. “I’ve been here for 20 years,” he said. “I know where we’ve been, where we are now, and where we’re going.” We can make things better if we work together, he offered. We need to work together “for the students,” “not our egos.”
He discussed his critics. He has heard a lot from them, he said. “They are my best teachers.” Still, he wanted critics to know that he is “undeterred.” The critics want to deter him from his direction, but that won’t work because he, Raghu P. Mathur, is not going anywhere. The election and the recall are over, he said. “I’m here.” “So what’s the problem?” (The answer to that question can be found in this issue’s “Mathurian Candidate” column. Please see p. 10)
There is, he said, no need to stand on the sidelines and criticize, to bring people down. We should be able to rise above that, to be constructive.
There is, he added, no need to run to the newspapers. If you do, he continued ominously, “I won’t stop you.” He never has, he said. (Apparently, Raghu thinks that stopping us is an option, but one that he generously chooses not to take.)
Go ahead and keep filing lawsuits and talking to the state chancellor, said Raghu. It won’t solve any problems. We need to quit dwelling on the past. We need to engage in compromise, give and take. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Ain’t he gracious? Ain’t he wonderful?
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“A wonderful, gracious man”:The first “keynote” speaker was Michelle Bonds, President of the California Student Association of Community Colleges. She offered only one memorable remark, namely, her description of Raghu P. Mathur as a “wonderful, gracious man.”
Obviously, she hadn’t read Dissent XV, which revealed the “epistolary” Raghu, a malicious scribbler who is perfectly happy to criticize and to “bring down” those whom he perceives as obstacles to the satisfaction of his enormous ego. (He is, he wrote, “the best qualified to do the job 100 times better than Clella Wood or any other dean in this position...on any day of any week, month, or year.”)
I missed the first few minutes of Dr. Barr’s address, for I was in the parking lot trading cat stories with Nancy Padberg. When I returned, he was explaining his view according to which things in education will continue to deteriorate until we force ourselves to go through a “paradigm shift” from “teaching” to “learning.”
Barr obviously borrows heavily from Thomas Kuhn’s Structure of Scientific Revolutions, a book whose concepts, though influential, have by no means achieved general acceptance within the philosophical community to whom the work was addressed back in 1962. But the scholars in the education department don’t know that. With them, phrases like “paradigm shift” sound new and thrilling and can be counted on to promote measurable pants wettage outcomes.
Hours (it seemed like hours) later, Glenn gave a presentation concerning enrollments, among other things. “We’re adding classes where there are wait lists,” he said. (Thus requireth Empress Stinkwater.) He seemed defensive about the Spring enrollments picture. Students are waiting until the last minute to enroll, he suggested. Everything looks good, he seemed to say. Really, really good.
In fact, as I write, IVC’s enrollments are down 10%, and the ad hoc measures that Mathur and company are taking have never worked in the past. Though things may improve, it now appears that we are witnessing the beginning of the Big Slide, the inevitable result of the Big Incompetence.
As always, Raghu had placed Q&A dead last in the schedule for the program, and when, as always, time ran out, he explained that, regret-tably, there just isn’t time for questions.
With that, the Mathurian Era lurched miserably into its fourth semester and into history. God save us all.
—BB [Roy Bauer]
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