Hurtling (Reb's dream)

ast night I dreamed that I was riding to San Francisco on a train, in one of those fancy old-time private cars. There was a party going on, with lots of elegant people wearing elegant clothing, saying elegant things, and drinking lots of elegant drinks out of glassware big enough to house fish. Music played. The scenery rolled by outside the windows: the Pacific on one side, the rolling green of springtime California on the other.

In that peculiar way that dreams spool out their logic and rules, I slowly discerned that the train was scheduled to arrive in San Francisco in time to “catch” the 1906 earthquake.

Needless to say, I recognized this as a bad idea, and understood that we must stop the train. I tried to tell people, but, no, they wouldn’t listen. They kept partying. Finally, I decided to save myself and so I resolved to jump from the train, but the windows and doors wouldn’t open. If they had opened, the train was moving so fast that, had I leapt, I would have been sucked under the wheels.

So I sat there inside the train, waiting, consoling myself that Amtrak, our under-funded national rail transportation simulacrum, generally ran late. Our salvation depended on incompetence.

Why we were deliberately headed so gleefully toward a rendezvous with disaster remained unknown.

Then I awoke.


told my husband the dream. He said, without hesitation, “It’s your job.”

I told the former chair of my department my dream. (Yes, that’s what we do in Humanities and Languages—we exchange dreams, Jungian interpretation.) She replied, “Yes. The dream of the English chair.”

(Did I mention what an extraordinary job she did as chair for many years? Extraordinary woman, working under extraordinary conditions. Forget Amtrak. Think Japan Bullet Train.)

I told my lawyer my dream. (Yes, it’s still a good thing to have one on hand around these parts.)

He said I should tell it to my analyst, and then sue the district for damages.

Fear, cynicism, hostility, and despair

hem. Rebel Girl has been especially busy of late, what with the predictable tumult of paper grading that comes, lo, as if a seasonal floodwater. The winter of their discontent has ended, the glacial icepack of student disinterest or ennui has melted after many cold weeks, and so she is drowned, ironically, in her own spring rains. Then there is her relentless inspection of classroom facilities for real flooding and rodents and insect infestation, not to mention the mid-term carpeting adventure, which found her packing and unpacking her office as if auditioning for some strange Olympic event.

—And then there is her ongoing adjustment to her duties as department chair.

Anyone who knows her will affirm Reb’s own careful assessment of her abilities: she has get-up-and-go, you bet; she loves teaching; she possesses a sense of duty imbued from years of Girl Scouting. She looks good in a uniform and distributes cookies. But she often lacks organization and struggles with prioritizing her obligations and responsibilities. Still, more often than not, she comes through, albeit slightly rumpled and grumpy.

This academic year is different though. For the first time in her professional life, she feels failure. She is doing more than ever before, but little of it feels like her best and some of it is clearly beyond her grasp.

Yes, Le Chaise Rebel Girl—well, she’s looking a bit rickety.

She now oversees a department of 13 full-timers and 33 part-timers.


As you know, a chair is responsible for scheduling (this means communicating with each instructor at least twice but, more often, multiple times in order to set the schedule—and we now, in case you haven’t noticed, run classes pretty much year-round).

A chair is responsible for holding meetings and holding forth, she supposes, on all things departmental. She did fairly well at this last semester but has yet to muster a meeting this semester, relying instead on email exchanges and brief hallway encounters—thus contributing to her growing sense of failure.

A chair is responsible for hiring. Last semester, she reviewed at least 50 applications and, with a committee, interviewed upward of ten and hired five for the spring. Hiring is ongoing as part-timers come and go, especially when offered contract pay. Last semester, two part-time instructors up and left with little notice. This semester one instructor declined assignments due to the specter of contract pay and others have bowed out for fall. (This is the subject of another rant-to-come where Rebel Girl imagines contract pay for administrators who are responsible for enrollment management.)

A chair is responsible for providing guidance, especially for new faculty, and thus far, she has been able to give some, but not as much as she would like.

A chair is responsible for dealing with grade grievances and strife in the classroom. Last semester produced a bumper crop of disturbances and this semester was off to a fine start. (Here Rebel Girl would like to extend thanks to the campus police for their fine assistance—really—they’re terrific! She doesn’t want to think where she’d be without them.)

A chair is responsible for evaluating the part-time faculty on a regular basis—for example, all new hires need to be evaluated during their first semester. After that, part-time faculty are evaluated every couple of years. Last semester, she received a memo advising her that she was behind on evaluations. This semester, since she did none last semester, she is even more behind.

Question: how can a chair evaluate faculty when she is often teaching at the same time as the faculty she needs to evaluate?

In case you forgot, we dwell in the Land of Fiscal Conservatives with Little Foresight, so consider the other factor in all this: Rebel Girl teaches a full load whilst chairing. Yes, that’s right—4 classes (3 preps!), some hours in the Hum Center, five hours of office hours—and all the above and more.

Rebel Girl discovered this scheduling conundrum firsthand when she covered for two faculty members who were out of town during Week One of classes (also one of her chair duties). There she was, giving an assignment in one class, then running across campus to take roll in another. It was a Marx Brothers movie—a cultural reference lost on her students but not, she hopes, on you, her loyal readers.

Of course she is compensated for this work by a stipend—according to her pay stub, for ten hours of labor a month. This stipend covers the salary of the person who now cleans Rebel Girl’s home twice a month (Rebel Girl believes in a living wage)—with a bit left over that is expended toward childcare to cover the additional hours on campus. This means, thinks Rebel Girl to herself, that the housecleaner is indeed, paid more per hour than Reb is for her duties as chair of the department. (Don’t get her started about the summer—for which she is not compensated but still expected to serve.)

This means, she thinks, all things considered, the chair is sort of a wash.

Of course, people offer to pitch in and they do (hers is a generous department), but still—they shouldn’t. They have enough to do. And there she is. Failure. Rebel Girl has never felt more irresponsible in her life, not even during the weeks of her misspent youth.

But Rebel Girl worries too. It’s not all about her. She knows that part-time faculty need evaluations so they can apply for other positions. The institution also needs faculty to be evaluated on a regular basis to insure quality instruction—you know, preserve the integrity of the place.

What’s a girl to do? Cancel classes? (And if she does so—cancel a class or two or three or four in order to supply the needed evaluations—does she also have to use her “personal necessity days” in order to cover her absences? How does that work exactly? Woo hoo! Union! Need advice!)

She could, of course, evaluate only faculty who teach when she is not teaching—say, generally before 10 am and after 3 pm.

Should she cut back on her own teaching in other ways? She could push that auto-pilot teaching button. You know the one. You’ve seen those folks. Hell, she could show videos to her writing classes and use the time she would have spent in class being a chair.

She could, of course, just stop bitching about it. Except that, by this time in the semester when she is wondering whether or not to grade papers, prep for classes, write memos to new instructors, set up meetings with new instructors, mend the fall schedule, adjust the summer schedule—or, well, chuck it all.

The other night when all this was keeping her up—it does—she had one of those Joycean epiphanies. She suddenly realized that Those That Be don’t really care. They care about appearances, that’s about it.

Of course, she thought, oddly relieved, the administration doesn’t really care if she evaluates faculty or not. They don’t care if she handles grade grievances in a timely and generous manner or not. Or if she is available to assist in all the ways needed or not.


No. The bottom line is bodies in the classroom—one at the podium and those students in their seats. What they care about is how it looks. And, on paper, it may look like everything is working, especially from afar—say wherever that Accreditation Team sits and writes their reports. It looks functional on paper—even if it can’t really work out in the real world without shafting students here or shafting students there, or putting faculty in impossible positions.

Now, Rebel Girl really shouldn’t paint with such a broad brush. It isn’t the administration per se—it’s the policy. (Some administrators have actually expressed sympathy, understanding. Imagine that!)

Yes, the policy puts her in this impossible position. The policy creates stress and tension so she must choose between one obligation and another—or do what she is doing, where she fails at nearly everything a little bit, and barely succeeds at some.

The policy reveals its priorities—meeting student needs with quality instruction isn’t among them.


Rebel Girl isn’t alone—there are other chairs out there, other sofas, davenports and chaises, teaching full loads and receiving their stipends. It could be that they are pleased with the arrangement—the nonexistence of summer pay notwithstanding (now that she thinks about it, Rebel Girl—resisting cynicism—imagines this arrangement was devised before the campus became such a jolly-year-round place to work). Perhaps the other chairs somehow make it work. Sacrifice. Compromise. You know.

Rebel Girl knows too. She works, always has, always will. She is proud that her car is often the last to leave on Thursday nights. Sacrifice? Sure. But how much? And to who? To what end?

Meanwhile, Rebel Girl awaits the seasonal return of the Accreditation Team. She’s got a story for them and she thinks that they might appreciate the themes of her tale: fear, cynicism, hostility, despair.

Carona scandal update

The Fuentesphere is endlessly fascinating. As you know, Fuentespherean Mike “Hometown Hero” Carona has been up to his eyeballs in scandal. This morning came news that some of the scandal is going away quietly:

LA Times:
Sheriff's Captain Agrees to Plea Deal
Christine Murray must mail apologies to peers she asked to support Carona's reelection.

An excerpt:

Murray must also mail letters by month's end to 16 employees she contacted, acknowledging that she called them at home to solicit their support and endorsement of Carona's reelection. Further, the letter promises that Murray will avoid conversations that might be misunderstood or cause discomfort.

The letter, which stops short of admitting to anything illegal, was read in open court by Schons. It said, in part:

"I understand that soliciting your endorsement, given my position as a captain in a hierarchical organization like the Sheriff's Department, might have made you uncomfortable because the sheriff and perhaps other ranking officers, such as myself, might make decisions which affect your career and position in the department … If my call affected you in this way, I regret it."

OC Register:
Charges dropped vs. sheriff's captain
Murray must do poll work, write letters of regret.

No doubt Carona is sighing with relief.

Carona's chief advisor: Michael Schroeder.

The DA’s chief advisor? –Michael Schroeder.

(Schroeder is often labelled the "most powerful man in Orange County.")

In a possible world

Enlarge the image by clicking on it.

Raghu's secret love child

I keep hearing about how Chancellor Raghu Mathur went on a tear a couple of weeks ago, blaming the district's troubles on "faculty leadership" and on anyone else who was handy.

Evidently, the "new and improved" Raghu, the "changed man" Raghu, is gone.

The True Goo is back, baby.

Someone told me that during one of these tirades, Raghu "blamed" the Academic Senates' decision to pursue a "minimum conditions complaint" with the State Chancellor's Office on the IVC Senate President.

I sure hope everybody who was present for that particular accusation had a chance to read and hear our blog of April 3 (Here). It included audio of the IVC senate discussion that led to that action.

In the audio, it is clear that the prez argued against pursuing the minimum conditions complaint. Senators' opted for that action over her advice and recommendation.

That Raghu sure is a lying sack, as always. Or maybe this time he just got bad intel. Could be.

And what if she had urged this action? If the Chancellor insists on violating Title V, despite repeated warnings from the Academic Senates--including the warning that, if necessary, they would pursue a minimum conditions complaint--then the only person to blame is Mr. Goo.


classified employee accosted me yesterday. She told me about the classified employees' retreat on March 15 down in Reverend Schuller's old digs. Evidently, Raghu showed up at the "Western" themed event wearing a Stetson.


According to this witness, Raghu stood before the group of perhaps 180 people and read through three pages of alleged jokes. Stuff like this:

"Back in 1976, we all wanted long hair. Now, in 2006, we all want hair."

[Hardy har har har.]

"Back in 1976, we wanted a BMW. Now, in 2006, we want a BM."

[Yukity yuk yuk yuk.]

The classified employee was mortified, she said. That Raghu is mighty hammy--you shoulda seen him do his impersonation of Carnac--but he's about as entertaining as a turd in a punchbowl. --Well, he's not that entertaining.

Here are some pics from the event. Here's Raghu in the hat:


Here's another shot of Goo.


And here's a shot of employees chowin' down out by Schuller's lake. That Schuller fella lived large, I guess. I think the complex sports a brothel, too. It has all the fixins, I guess.


And this, of course, is a snap of Raghu's secret love child. That didn't work out too good, did it, Mr. Goo?



t sure was a beautiful day today. I grabbed my camera and took a few pics. This, of course, is IVC's Student Services Center:


While I was up there, I took a shot of "Old Saddleback," i.e., Modjeska and Santiago Peaks, over to the east. It sure is purdy. Makes me glad.

On the top floor of SSC, I came across a glass box that had a plaque in it. Evidently, IVC got some kind of honorable mention in a "Model U.N." competition. This somehow involves IVC's being "Mongolia."


This is pretty damn cool. "Mongolia Irvine Valley College." Yes!

They simply do not like him

    IVC is suddenly abuzz with the latest chapter in the Howard Gensler saga, which was revealed on the front page of yesterday's Lariat. 

    According to the Lariat, Howard Gensler, a Saddleback College economics instructor, is suing the district. Why? Because "[the dean and the chair] didn't give me priority in the summer classes...The procedure is that full-time teachers get their classes before the part-time." 

    According to Howard's petition (says the Lariat), his dean and his chair "simply do not like the petitioner (Gensler) and have ignored the rules to harass and to injure him." 

    They don't like him? I'm shocked! Shocked! He's being harassed? 

    We'll see. 

    Whatever the merits of this "harassment" charge—sounds implausible—it strikes some at IVC as ironic. Or maybe poetic. That's because Dean Gensler—a Raghu Mathur hire and "golden boy" who retreated into the classroom several years ago after the infamous "Howard Hilton" fiasco (see below)—was the source of much faculty consternation during his administrative tenure. In particular, some faculty—especially those known to be critical of then-President Mathur—objected to what Howard did to their teaching schedules.

    That word "harassment" came up then, too. 

    For instance, at one point, Dean Gensler announced that he forbade instructors' teaching "back-to-back classes." That is, faculty in his Schools were told that they were not permitted to teach, say, an 8:00 a.m. class followed immediately by a 9:30 a.m. class. Or a 9:30 class followed by an 11:00 class. Huh? When individual faculty met with Howard to explain the special burdens this rule created—burdens felt by no other faculty in the district—he readily waived the rule for some but not for others. 

    Interestingly, in the case of one especially well-known Mathur critic, no exception could be made. 

    It wasn't only dissenting full-timers who suddenly found themselves up sh*t creek owing to Gensler's curious edicts and peculiar norms. When an adjunct writing instructor wrote a short piece for the OC Weekly that spoofed Mathur (Here), soon thereafter, he was given no teaching assignments. When asked for the reason, Gensler cited the instuctor's inappropriate attire. 

    I think the problem was his sandals. Or maybe his beard. 

    Another part-timer—a senior and highly-regarded philosophy instructor—objected to the arbitrary manner with which the writing instructor was treated. Guess what happened to him? Yup. 

    Even buildings were not safe from Howard's whimsical standards and odd innovations. Those who are familiar with IVC will remember when building A300 was an ordinary classroom building, a decent place in which to teach. Like most of the buildings at IVC, it had an internal hallway which led to its seven or so classrooms. But for some reason, Howard decided that the building should be radically reconfigured. According to his unique vision, the hallway would be closed off and used as an oddly-shaped space (for the theater people, I believe), and the other classrooms would now be entered from outside doors, which, with much violence, were now smashed into existence. 

    You should take a look at A300 now. It is ugly and ridiculous. And appalling. Plus denizens of its classrooms must endure random theater warblings. 

    Recently, Dissent the Blog referred to one of Howard's "publications," an unfortunately revealing book called "The Avenger of Blood." To get a sense of this book's caliber and nature, consider one of its illustrations: Impressive, ain't it? For those who seek to learn more about the Howard Saga, they might start by reading the following article from a September 2001 issue of Dissent:

From Dissent 65, September 30, 2001 

     Raghu Mathur has a remarkable record as an employer and promoter of very special administrators. Rodney Poindexter is a real standout in this regard (see ARCHIVES: “Mathur vs. Women”, 9/05). 

     Another is Howard Gensler, who was appointed interim or temporary dean some years ago, but Raghu liked him, so he was eventually named permanent dean (of PE/Fine Arts/Humanities!). But, not long after some negative press concerning a project of his and Raghu's that is commonly referred to as the "Howard Hilton," the fellow left that position in a cloud of dense smoke and quizzical expressions. 

     Ultimately, Howard popped up again as a full-time Econ instructor at Saddleback College, sans the usual search and hire process. He is now fully tenured. 

The following piece from a September 2001 Dissent tells some of the Gensler story at IVC. Please note that, at one point, Rod Poindexter was chosen by ASIVC as "administrator of the year." (The ASIVC president at the time was a noted Mathurian.) We figured we would complete the picture by offering Howard the same title.] 

DISSENT’S “ADMINISTRATOR OF THE YEAR,” HOWARD GENSLER 

     Howard Gensler, Dissent’s “Administrator of the Year,” first entered our lives in 1989, when he was hired as an adjunct. Now, he’s a Dean at IVC, and he’s made quite a splash! 

     Dean Gensler’s background is fascinating. In the late 70s, he received five Bachelor’s degrees, and soon thereafter, at UCB, he received a law degree. By 1983, he was teaching tax and law at Northrop University, where he assisted Dean Carl Sederholm. In 1984, he succeeded Sederholm, becoming Dean of Northrop’s School of Law (see Times, 1/26/85). As such, Howard was the Chief Academic Officer of the Graduate Tax Program. As if that weren’t enough, he then published an epic poem, The Avenger of Blood. [Note: you’ve really got to get a copy of this book. It is quite special.] 

     Northrop University: Northrop U sure is an interesting place. Founded in 1942 by the well-known aeronautics firm as a school for airplane mechanics, Northrop later expanded into “computer science, business and law studies” (L.A. Times). In August of 1979, it became the site of the Institute for Historical Review’s first international Holocaust “revisionist” conference. In 1986, Northrop began a master’s program in international business and taxation. 

     Alas, the program ran into difficulty. According to the Times (9/12/89), 

    Northrop University…should lose its accreditation because of ethical violations in recruiting foreign students, awarding credits and bookkeeping practices involving millions of dollars, the agency that monitors California colleges announced Monday…The rare action by the Western Assn. of Schools and Colleges stems from complaints about Northrop’s master’s of science program in international business and taxation, which enrolls many students from Asia. But the problems have “substantially affected the infrastructure of the university in nearly every aspect,” according to a WASC official…The agency recently voted to strip the school of its accreditation beginning in November…According to [the WASC official], Northrop operated part of the master’s in international business program in Taiwan without WASC approval. An investigation also showed “substantial irregularities” in how the school admitted foreign students, processed immigration documents, graded student performances and awarded credits, he said…[He] also said millions of dollars in tuition are unaccounted for or improperly accounted for. “We are entirely unsure of the magnitude,” he said… 

     Soon, Northrop’s long time president, B.J. Shell, unexpectedly retired; he was replaced by John Beljan, who was “given authority to take any measures necessary to guide the institution out of its financial troubles” (Times). 

     Northrop appealed WASC’s adverse Accreditation decision; still, the school has dwindled, and it is now the tiny Northrop Rice Aviation Institute of Technology. 

     Howard’s “extraordinarily unusual” legal victory: Howard left Northrop U in 1987, whereupon he worked for the IRS, but only briefly. In 1988, Howard ran for a seat on the Costa Mesa City Council, though he was later forced to withdraw from the race, owing, evidently, to his failure to register to vote (see OC Register, 10/6/88). Starting in 1988, Howard practiced law. In 1990, he represented a UCI math professor who accused the university of “punishing him for failing to publish enough scholarly articles” (see OC Register, 4/20/90). Not long after, he represented another UCI math instructor, Paul McGill, who sued because he had been denied tenure. Eventually, McGill prevailed. According to the Times (7/23/93), a judge “ordered UC Irvine to rehire” McGill. Said Howard, “This is an extraordinarily unusual and unique situation…The university is given remarkable latitude in terms of giving tenure; it’s a really hard area to win.” 

     Howard’s Cato years: Howard, always the busy bee, received his doctorate in Economics in 1993. Then, according to the Laser Beam, during the mid-90s, Howard “taught for three years at the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology,” where he was a lecturer in Accounting. During this period, Howard published at least 2 articles for the Cato Institute, a conservative/libertarian think tank that opposes government regulation and welfare. In one article entitled “The Effect of Race and Sex on Welfare Benefits” (Vol. 15 No. 2-3), Howard argued: 

  At the national level…disparities exist in the allocation of welfare. Black single female-headed households received $756 more welfare per year than similarly situated non-black families…At the state level for single female-headed households, 15 states gave blacks an average of $1,569 more welfare per year…The analysis…indicates that fundamental problems of equity in either access or assessment persist in the income maintenance system…. 

     Gee willikers! In another Cato article, entitled “The Effect of Welfare on High School Graduation” (Vol. 16, no. 2), Howard offered a fascinating study of welfare mothers: 

  The hypothesis that higher welfare levels adversely impact high school graduation rates is confirmed with a high degree of statistical precision…Increases in the welfare system do not promote accumulation of human capital…[T]he basic negative relationship between welfare and education must be understood before effective public policies concerning welfare, education, and poverty can be formulated. 

     Meanwhile, Howard found time to edit a book entitled The American Welfare System, which remains in print. 

     Another deanship for Howard: In 1999, Howard became the interim dean of Humanities and Languages, replacing Richard Prystowsky, who had resigned after brief service. (Prystowsky had succeeded Dan Rivas, who also resigned after brief service. [As I recall, Dan resigned in part because then-President Mathur was instructing him to include negative remarks in the evaluations of those faculty who had been critical of him and the board—remarks that Dan regarded as unwarranted and unjustified.]

     In 2000, owing to President Mathur’s staunch support, Howard was appointed permanent Dean of Humanities and Library Services (and, later, of Fine Arts). The details of the appointment evidently raised concerns about “process”: 

  Three administrative appointments were approved in closed session on Monday…Howard Gensler was appointed dean of humanities and library services at Irvine Valley…[The other appointees] were appointed with unanimous votes, but Gensler was appointed on a split vote of 4-3, with trustees Lang, Marcia Milchiker and Don Wagner dissenting…“I personally haven’t heard anything negative about the guy himself, but there were questions raised about process that I didn’t get fully answered,” said Wagner. (Irvine World News, 6/22/00) 

Process problems notwithstanding, then-president Mathur exclaimed that Howard was his “first choice.”

     Howard and Raghu’s “top secret plan”: About a year ago, faculty began hearing about a massive project that would provide facilities for Fine Arts (and fish). The word was that Howard was developing the project with the blessing and encouragement of his mentor, president (now chancellor) Mathur.

     Howard eventually provided Chancellor Mathur with a “report” concerning the project on May 23, 2002. According to my sources, then, in early June, Howard and Raghu met with three Board Majoritarians, including Wagner, to discuss the project. (Ask Dot.) That’s about when the L.A. Times caught wind of it [gosh, I wonder how they found out?]. On June 15, the Times reported 

  Irvine Valley College officials are quietly trying to find investors for a private hotel, entertainment and office complex on campus that could cost as much as $800 million, officials confirmed this week…As described in recent meetings among campus officials, the project would include a hotel, a multistory parking structure, two 2,000-seat theaters, office buildings, a sound stage and a lake, replacing orange groves and an athletic field at the southern end of campus…The scope of the privately funded, for-profit project—whose cost estimates nearly double Staples Center in downtown Los Angeles—is believed to be unprecedented, not only for a community college, but for any public university in the state…The cost would be enough to build two community colleges, said Kirsten McIntyre, spokeswoman for the California Community Colleges Chancellor’s Office, which was unaware of the proposal…The project is a long way from reality and would have to be approved by trustees for the South Orange County Community College District, which includes Irvine Valley and Saddleback colleges. 

     According to the Times, some college employees had doubts about the project: “they don’t understand how the two-year college benefits from such a deal. ‘It would be a commercial enterprise that would not be a benefit to our students,’ said Jan Wyma, Irvine Valley’s choral director.” 

     The Times reported that Dean Gensler was the man behind the plan and that Mathur was aware of it. Glenn Roquemore, president of IVC, however, said that he hadn’t yet received a proposal. 

     The scope of the Gensler/Mathur venture was truly stunning: 

  The proposal has changed over the months, but the basic plan calls for construction on 25 to 35 acres…Several sources said Gensler was pitching the deal to investors as a 99-year lease, and that it would include a Hilton or Hyatt hotel with conference center facilities, restaurants, a four- or five-story parking structure, an office building of several stories, the theaters, an art museum, an observatory and a building with sound stages for TV and film…Also contemplated are a movie complex and soccer stadium. 

     Massive unbeknownstitude: City officials were miffed about all of this secret planning. The Times quoted an Irvine official who said: “Any construction not associated with the college’s educational mission must be approved by Irvine.” Nevertheless, “she had not heard of the proposal.” 

     Three days later, the Register weighed in with a story that presented Howard’s project—now described as involving a paltry $463 million—in a less sympathetic light: 

  Board members interviewed said they were surprised at the planning that has gone into Gensler’s vision and that they should have been informed about it earlier…“Apparently this was really being pursued by just a few people unbeknownst to other members of the board,” said trustee Dave Lang…One instructor described the project as “absurd” in that it “flies in the face of the college’s long-term planning.” During the Board Meeting of June 24th, trustees decided to pull the plug on the whole business: Irvine Valley College trustees got their first official look Monday night at a controversial proposal to develop a $463 million entertainment complex on campus–and decided they wanted no part of it… “The feeling was that the proposal that came to us did not sufficiently meet the needs of the college and the students,” said board president Don Wagner, who said trustees first learned of the project in the press…“It came to us as a take-it-or-leave-it proposal, and we are going to leave it.”…. (OC Register, June 25, 2002; my emphasis) 

    On the 25th, the Times quoted Dorothy “Dot” Fortune, who carped that the Gensler/Mathur project would give “away half the land at IVC.” Howard, however, defended his project; it would, he said, make IVC “one of the most important cultural centers in Southern California.” 

    Nonagenarian takes plan elsewhere: The Times eventually reported the proposed project’s builder:

  The complex was to be built by the Newport Financial Group of Newport Beach. One company figure is Charles Ross, 91, of Laguna Woods, who proposed a similar project at UC Riverside, without success, Fortune said…Ross said Monday he would not discuss the plan, but that if the district turned it down, he would take it elsewhere. 

    In an article for the Irvine World News on the 27th, Wagner is again reported as saying that “trustees first learned of the project after the top secret plan was leaked to the press.” Well, no, according to my sources, he and two other Board Majoritarians heard about the “top secret plan” two weeks before the Times report. 

     C’mon Don! 

     Some newspaper articles claimed that, on campus, the project was called “the Howard Hilton.” In truth, it had been dubbed “Howie World” by the Chevy Chase fans who have always dominated IVC. 

     “One has to wonder…” On the 30th, Times editorial writers offered a harshly critical perspective on “the Howard Hilton”: 

Irvine Valley College’s mission statement…[says that the] college exists to provide quality education for students…The document doesn’t say anything about leasing a huge chunk of the campus to a private developer for a $500 million entertainment and office complex…That’s why people were caught off-guard earlier this month when word surfaced that an IVC dean had been meeting with a developer who wanted to build a massive, for-profit venture. The trustees of the SOCCCD are to be commended for putting the educational purpose of the district first by rejecting the plan last week before it could gather more momentum…The proposal was out of sync with the city of Irvine’s general plan and existing zoning. The city envisioned the orange groves…as one day hosting recreational facilities and college-related construction—not hotels, parking garages and a Hollywood production lot. City officials hadn’t had a chance to review the proposal, and from what it suggested, many of the plan’s elements also clashed with zoning in the area…The proposal also was at odds with IVC’s own planning process. Community colleges are required to create a master plan that describe how they intend to grow. There’s nothing in IVC’s long-range planning that was even remotely close to the proposal that was submitted to the board by Howard Gensler…College deans have a lot of clout, but one has to wonder how this kind of major campus land-use negotiation got to the stage it did. It probably should have been handled in the first place at a higher level of administration…. 

    Hey, yeah! Then, on July 9, IVC issued an odd little press release. It announced plans to construct a modest “Performing Arts Building”: 

Irvine Valley College submitted plans to the state…for the construction of a 400-seat Performing Arts Building… The…Building has been long in development as part of Irvine Valley’s Educational and Facilities Master Plan to unify campus services and to meet a growing demand by students and the community. The Educational and Facilities Master Plan and, in particular, the Performing Arts Building, is wholly separate from a recent $450 million proposal made by Irvine Valley Humanities Dean, Howard Gensler, who worked with a private investor to develop a possible alternative campus building project…

     We at Dissent feel just awful about the unceremonious kiboshery of the “Howard Hilton.” I, for one, was really lookin’ forward to floatin’ around on that lake. Well, at least we can name Howard our “Administrator of the Year”! Congratulations Howard!

Louis Collins

've been sniffin' around, but all I've got are rumors and stuff I can't repeat, not yet.

Last Thursday, I heard a story about the Chancellor, something from years ago. Maybe I'll write it up when I get confirmation. The story ends with then-President Mathur saying, "You didn't see this."

I figured I'd take advantage of the lull by offering one of my favorite songs. I first heard it when I was a teenager, and it has stayed with me. I'll be going along, and there it'd be, playing in my head.

It was recorded in 1928 by Mississippi John Hurt. Hurt is usually called a bluesman, but his repertoire included few blues. In the early 20th Century, in and around Mississippi, musicians with Hurt's varied repertoire were called "songsters."

Hurt is famous for his gentleness and his lovely guitar picking. Both are in evidence in this recording of Hurt's own "Louis Collins." He always told people it was based on a real event.

Louis Collins by Mississippi John Hurt



Mrs. Collins weep, Mrs. Collins moan
To see her son Louis leave his home
Angels laid him away

Angels laid him away
They laid him six feet under the clay
Angels laid him away

Kind friends, oh, ain't it hard?
To see poor Louis in a new graveyard
Angels laid him away

Bob shot once and Louis shot too
They shot poor Collins, shot him through and through
Angels laid him away

Angels laid him away
They laid him six feet under the clay
Angels laid him away

Mrs. Collins weep, Mrs. Collins moan
To see her son Louis leave his home
Angels laid him away

Angels laid him away
They laid him six feet under the clay
Angels laid him away

When they heard that Louis was dead
All the people they dressed in red
Angels laid him away

Angels laid him away
They laid him six feet under the clay
Angels laid him away

From atop Modjeska grade, looking west.

From Live Oak Canyon, looking east.