Saturday, April 10, 2010

The End of Public Education?

The death bed regret of Milton Friedman was that he could not list among his many accomplishments the total destruction of teachers’ unions in this country. Little did we expect to discover that one of the candle-bearing acolytes at his theoretical bedside was no less than Barack Obama, a future Democratic president brought into office with considerable assistance from those very unions. Yet, what we are currently witnessing in the calls for charter schools and the attacks on teachers, first, as stubborn adherents of unionism, and, second, as a bunch of incompetents is fast becoming a hallmark of the Obama administration. We have now reached a crossroads where it is difficult to determine whether public schools are under attack in order to destroy teachers’ unions or teachers’ unions are under attack in order to destroy public education. A fine distinction, no doubt, for the privatization movement which has amazingly—and irrationally—survived its having given birth to the greatest economic crisis since 1929.
Friedman did not see in American public schools a hallowed democratic institution that guaranteed free schooling for our children; rather he saw in the public schools a last remnant of socialism. This may seem bizarre, given that the idea that children should be educated at the expense of their communities goes back not to some New Deal innovation or Marxist agenda but is a centuries’ old icon—from the urban school teeming with immigrants to the one-room little red school house ringing its bell on the open prairie. For Friedman, however, any institution or enterprise which bore the adjective “public” was a lingering cancer in the body politic. Even more frustrating for the Chicago guru, however, was that the teachers’ unions (and their defined benefits pensions) maintained their viability in spite of thirty years of union busting inaugurated with Ronald Reagan’s crass destruction of the air traffic controllers’ union.
When one reflects upon the complex history that propelled this country into a thirty-year period of frenzied privatization and deregulation, leading it to tear up much of the progressive legislation it had taken a good part of the twentieth century to achieve—issues of race, of social malaise, of stubborn sectionalism, of declining empire—one cannot leave out the fact that even prior to the Reagan counter-revolution, it has been as American as apple pie for policy makers of both parties to wage a thinly veiled campaign against the notion that anything good can come from government sponsored or subsidized institutions.
Public schools, health facilities, libraries, transportation have been intentionally under-funded lest the average American fall prey to the notion that publicly provided services can be as good, or, heaven forbid, even better than profit-driven services. “You get what you pay for.” Unless you put out cold cash, you can’t expect very much. (Of course, it might occur to the more sophisticated citizen that he does pay for public services through taxation, and thus the unrelenting campaign by the right wing to lower or eliminate the tax “burden”—unless those tax dollars are earmarked for “defense,” which, through some magical transubstantiation, government manages to give us the largest cornucopia of state-of-the-art, shiny, futuristic weapons of death the world has ever seen.) It is a not so subtle education process, and the lessons become more severe as one goes down the class ladder and crosses what, in our still highly segregated nation, are the clear lines of demarcation separating white from black and brown citizens. White, suburban schools are clearly better funded than inner-city schools. Mass transit, which suffers generally from under-funding, the premium being on automobile and gasoline sales, particularly suffers when its mission is to transport the poor and working classes to their low-paying jobs.
There is considerable irony in the threats teachers’ unions are now confronted with from practically every quarter. They, after all, have paid their dues. Before looking back to how we came to this pass, however, it might be worth while to point out that, fat as they are portrayed, a remnant aristocracy of labor, they have already made considerable concessions. The United Federation of Teachers, Local 2 of the American Federation of Labor, long the largest local in the A.F.L-C.I.O., and long led by the infamous Albert Shanker, is command central for teacher unionism. It long ago began to come to terms with pressure to soften its demands. Following the tumultuous 1968 school strike over community control, the New York State legislature enacted (classically, by one vote, cast by a teacher) the Taylor Law which outlawed strikes by teachers and other municipal employees, with a stroke of the pen depriving the unions of their most powerful weapon. By now, there are five “tiers” in the union’s pension plans. With each succeeding tier, the terms under which a teacher can retire have become less generous. A new teacher will have to work longer for fewer benefits than a teacher who began her career in the 1960s. Almost all of the “Tier One” teachers are gone from the system. And, although in the relatively affluent 1990s a mayor who was committed to improving the city’s schools finally brought teacher salaries more in keeping with the salaries being earned in the white suburbs, those wage scales only came after a period of decades through which most teachers were forced to work two and sometimes three jobs in order to maintain their families. It would be difficult to caricature teachers as leaning on their shovels when they were so underpaid that (the once taboo) “moonlighting” was draining energies from such tasks as lesson planning, grading papers and the high-energy requirements of creativity in the classroom. Nevertheless, the prospect of paying a senior teacher with longevity and the equivalent of a Ph.D. a wage of around $100,000 a year and the promise of a defined benefit pension (and a potential annuity) elicits the full range of dark emotions, particularly during a time characterized as the Great Recession. For the spiritual descendants of Milton Friedman, certainly, it is irksome, to put it mildly, that an essentially moribund union movement can still throw up a barrier to its complete eradication from the American labor landscape in the form of the stubbornly viable teachers’ unions.
For those who carefully followed the career of Al Shanker, all of this is heavily weighted with irony. Over the course of his career as leader of the UFT, Shanker’s main mission was to keep in check the left wing within his rank-and-file. The UFT was itself born in response to the threat posed by the left-leaning old Teachers Union (TU). The newborn UFT had hardly had enough time to organize before the onset of the Civil Rights Movement and the war in Vietnam saw thousands of radicalized young teachers enter its ranks. When with a deep collective roar, the amassed delegates to the union’s Delegate Assembly voted to condemn the war in Vietnam over Shanker’s opposition, he acted quickly to reduce the number of delegates each school could send to the Assembly and lengthened the term of shop stewards, called “Chapter Chairmen” (sic) in the UFT, making future such demonstrations far less likely. When the ‘60s bred young teachers entered ghetto schools and found conditions deplorable both within the schools and in the communities they served, particularly in a school system which had come to serve a population that had a majority of “minority” children, when there was even talk of allying the teachers’ union with the Welfare Workers Union and calling a general strike to improve both working conditions and the conditions in which Black and Hispanics lived, Shanker serendipitously found in the Ford Foundation’s Community Control pilot program in Ocean-Hill Brownsville, (shepherded by JFK national security advisor and Vietnam architect, McGeorge Bundy), the perfect means by which to forever purge or immobilize the left within his ranks. The 1968 School Strike drove a wedge between schools and communities, white and black teachers, Blacks and Jews that is still with us. The three-month long strike had been so strident and potentially catastrophic that it came as no surprise that the New York State legislature would bar the union from ever striking again.
Over the forty years since the strike, the UFT, under Shanker and then his protégé, Sandra Feldman and her successors has more or less functioned as a powerful professional organization. Teachers are, after all, basically a conservative lot, and, after 1968 certainly, the radicals, always a minority, were relegated to the sidelines. A constant embarrassment to the union is that in its zealousness to protect teachers’ jobs and tenure, only one or two teachers—out of a total work force of over 55,000—is ever invited to leave the profession, that is, fired. That there are men and women currently standing in front of classrooms who might better be otherwise employed is glaringly obvious. Yet, tenure is almost iron-clad. The union has tried to deal with this through peer mediation and retraining, but such efforts are often ineffectual. Calls for merit pay, which would reward the most successful teachers, are similarly resisted. For the most part, the union insists that all tenured teachers be treated equally. There is some rationale for this, in spite of the layman’s inability to see why poor performers should be treated any differently than they would in the private sector. In theory, at least, a tenured teacher is an individual who has at least a satisfactory higher education, has passed a licensing exam and, typically, a three year long probationary period during which she needs to prove her competence. The rationale further argues (oddly, yet in effect) that teaching is not rocket science and that should anyone pass through the initial hurdles and be found to be less than competent, the blame likely lies not with the individual but with working conditions or lack of professional support. Stiffening this position is, to some extent, the memory, once again, of the ’68 strike, which, on paper at least, had been fought for “due process.”
Teachers’ unions are not easy to love. There is undoubtedly an overdue need for certain reforms and more than a grain of truth in the critiques made by both those inside of the unions and outside observers. Yet none of this is really behind the current movement for charter schools, privatization and the elimination of the unions. Over a forty year career, this writer’s experience in the New York City public schools was that, with rare exceptions, teachers are hard-working, dedicated individuals who love learning and care deeply about their students. Those who work in inner-city schools have special challenges in the form of overcrowding, under-staffing, poor physical plants and lack of adequate teaching tools. One investigator of the charter school movement tellingly found that in a school that housed a charter school, a glaring contrast could be found between the conditions that prevailed among the regular population and those that were found in the charter school it housed where fresh paint, renovated classrooms and lavatories, computers, smaller class size, ample materials and greater guidance made all the difference. If teachers’ unions can justly be criticized for anything, it is for not drawing even greater attention to the need for such accommodations for all students. No, the charter school movement and the attack on public education and public employees’ unions are not motivated by concern for children, rather they are yet another mean-spirited attack designed to place private profit above all else in yet another key sector of American life.

Friday, April 02, 2010

On Being a New York City Driver

I have driven mountain roads in Vermont that are less treacherous than driving down any of hundreds of miles of supposedly paved streets and highways in the city of New York. Having had recent occasion to travel to the U.S. mainland, that is to say, to New Jersey, I got a lesson in just how corrupt, arrogant, blithely dismissive, elitist and, yes, as far as I am concerned, literally criminal the caretakers of our city, "the greatest city in the world," are. In our neighbor to the west, roads are silken, the lane markings clear in daylight, sparkling at night, bedecked with lovely embedded sapphire reflectors, potholes rare. On a typical rainy night in New York, on the other hand, (and, yes, an older driver I--apparently unlike the city's DOT--am perfectly aware that older drivers have diminished night vision), my hands tense on the steering wheel as I squint through my windshield trying to determine where there is a lane to take. The lane markings have faded to near invisibility. There are no reflectors. Mine is not the only vehicle proceeding tentatively trying to find the right arc, or near careening, trying to stay within lanes that do not exist. But, then I remind myself, I live in a city whose mayor is having a blood feud with the driving public. Fresh paint for traffic lanes is not on his to-do list.



As I thought back to my voyage to East Brunswick, New Jersey, I calculated the initial cost of my journey before I had even left the city. Eleven dollars in EZPass tolls, two charges of $5.50 to go through the Midtown and Lincoln Tunnels. Where does that money go? Aren't the funds raised by tolls supposed to be dedicated to the upkeep of roads? (When I asked my mechanic if he could tell me, his response was, "Don't ask that question. They'll kill you. Besides, I sell lots of tie-rods this way.") The evidence of my senses tells me that not a penny has been spent on our roads, and I'm not talking about seasonal potholes, the alleged ravages of a hard winter. Our roads are in a near-permanent state of (benign?) neglect. To cite just one example among dozens that come to mind, going into Queens from Manhattan, the approach ramp to the Triborough Bridge (Unlike others, I will not dishonor Bobby's memory by attaching his name to an urban ruin.) has been--how to describe this accurately--rutted, caverned, rubbled, cragged?--for years, for as long as I can remember. My Nissan doesn't just stutter, tremble and shake; it is wracked to its core, its shock absorbers tested beyond their limit. One of the richest cities in the world. America's first city.

The various "Authorities" collect millions of dollars and apparently just pocket the money. Talk of opening their books is met with the kind of dark laughter you might imagine would come from the owner of one of the city's carting services if you asked to opt out. There is no outcry except for the sad seasonal plea from New Yorkers to fill those potholes that are destroying their vehicles, sending their hubcaps frisby-ing off to curbside, endangering their own lives and the lives of nearby pedestrians. The answer, when there is one, is a tarpot and a thin skim fated to fail within days.


With the nation, state and city hovering near bankruptcy, we will, of course, be told that there just isn't enough money in the budget to repair our roads. This always raises the question of why repairs weren't made when we were rolling in tax dollars. And, yes, the wearisome rhetoric about stimulus money being devoted to our infrastructure needs certainly comes to mind. We're all holding our breath waiting for that to happen, perhaps concurrent with rubber wheels on elevated trains and bullet trains to East Brunswick?

Nope. I want to see the books. I will risk my life and humbly request that I see where my toll expenditures, gasoline taxes, registration fees, etc., go.

And then there's our mayor, a man who considers himself presidential timber. We have now long been treated to the prospect of one of the nation's richest billionaires having a major snit because he could not get his way on a commuter tax. Even more outrageous, however, is the man's implementation of a series of obvious mandates to his obedient commissioners designed to make driving in Manhattan a hellish experience. Again, there is a sad, vast richness of examples to cite. He has essentially set up virtual roadblocks in Manhattan reminiscent of the barriers separating Gazans and West Jordanians from Israelis. In part, these take the form of the lovely plazas he has designed. Not quite the open plazas of Italy and Spain, these are cement triangles planted in the middle of major thoroughfares such as the one in Times Square where feckless New Yorkers are invited to sit on cheap folding chairs and breathe in the automobile exhaust being expelled from long lines of vehicles stuck in the traffic jams that the squares themselves have caused. Major avenues that once allowed three or four lanes of traffic now accomodate only a single lane. Unbelievably, traffic islands replete with new plantings have now cropped up on these avenues, and, as if the islands themselves do not take up enough space, they are lined with parking spaces so that the one lane through which one is forced to navigate is reminiscent of nothing so much as a the chutes that lead cattle to slaughter. Might as well fill the coffers with parking fees and violations as well; just add them to the nightmarish mix.

Another device recently implemented to cripple traffic is the imposition of bus lanes forbidden to ordinary vehicular traffic. The notion that 34th Street, for example, is still a cross-town throughfare is silly. Like many of the nearby avenues, most of 34th Street now accomodates only a single lane of vehicles. Like Charlie Chaplin in The Great Dictator, the mayor must frolic in his City Hall office, giggling at the world he has created, the pain he has caused his hated outer-borough drivers, basking in the afterglow of virtue he has demonstrated by commuting to work on the IRT for five minutes rather than using his one of his Rolls-Royces. In spite of feeble attempts to pose as a man of the people, just folks, the truth is that everything this mayor does is designed to lubricate the wheels of government for the profit and gain of his cohorts--from planting trees to abolishing smoking in public places to banning transfats and imposing taxes on soft drinks. These are all good things, but to believe that these are mayoral fiats from a self-envisioned benevolent dictator is naive. He has paved over the city with high-rise luxury apartment buildings, fantasizes filling them with his true constituents, and then doing whatever he can to make their lives even more comfortable. A social program for the rich.

No one is more anti-automobile than this writer. I am sure that before our century is out, privately owned automobiles will have become as quaint as typewriters. They are an economic, environmental and social scourge. Just give us a way to get to our destinations that is fast, clean and efficient: trolleys, jitneys, light rail, bullet trains, you name it. Give me a way to get there and I will await the amnesty on illegal possession of the private automobile. What we are in fact being treated to are outrageously regressive taxes on the poorest New Yorkers in the form of higher bus and subway fares, cutbacks in the very forms of transportation they are being exhorted to utilize. The poorest, lowest paid New Yorkers face ever greater chunks of their paychecks going to subsidize a transportation system that exhausts them even before they open the doors to their workplaces. But don't think about switching to a car. It's a battlefield out there.