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OPSEU Local 560 |
| The Local: April, 1997 |
WHAT’S HAPPENED TO P. D.?
P. D. — R.I.P.
Ted Montgomery, President, Local 560
Chief among these forces is the relentless view which key senior College managers hold that professors are little or nothing more than deliver-ers of information. When one adopts that per-spective, and when one is motivated to slice any costs not strictly in keeping with that limited outlook of the teaching/learning process, then one seeks to maximize the time spent in the in-formation delivery process, at the expense of the other components of education and training.
Consequently, more weeks of teaching for every professor, more students in the classroom, less time per student in the field, less time for evalua-tion and preparation, more and more para-professionals and other less-skilled teachers, etc.
A Centralized Bureaucracy
Professional Development, of course, still is paid much lip service. In fact, on the surface, there would appear to be an intensification of activity — the announcement of plenty of seminars, op-portunities, consulting, cutting-edge jargon, and so on. But it’s all centrally controlled, the great bulk of the funding diverted to maintaining a bu-reaucracy of P. D. in lieu of providing the real time and support.
At the same time, the College is encouraging (some would say obligating) the production of individual professional development plans, for which the College knows it will provide neither the funds nor the time to actualize.
In the model of Professors essentially as inform-a-tion deliverers, professional development devolves from the individual professors or small groups of faculty to a cen-tralized, manager-driven gatehouse regulating the course of activities. The institution can main-tain the pretense of professional development while actually reducing it substantially.
Post-secondary faculty can no longer use the May/June period or similar time for the kinds of activities needed in post-secondary educational institutions of higher quality. Now they must be in the classroom. The college can push teachers and students closer to the contractual workload maximums by forcing them into a contrived seven-week structure. The college then assigns teachers to the summer or May/June period.
What Remains?
Our contract also requires a minimum allowance of ten days for professional development, five of which are to be consecutive. (All those who got more than the minimum please raise your hand.) But, the only times now available for these days are the mid-term break weeks which most profes-sors must now devote to completing cur-rent assignments and preparing for class. No serious P. D. can be accomplished by the vast majority.
What should you do? Request the time for pro-fessionally development. It does not have to be a non-teaching period. If there is an activity — perhaps one of those con-ferences — request time and funding to attend. Let the college replace you as necessary with a sessional supply teacher. Do not book in advance of approval. Agreement to such request is not to be unreasonably withheld. If you feel it has, con-tact your Union Local.
The College
has turned its focus to information processing instead of education.
Our students deserve better.
"Have made a suit of the finest Seneca cloth," suggested Count Brian, and walk in it about Senlandia that the rabble might marvel at its cutting-edge qualities." And so Duke Steve had made a suit of the finest enhanced-quality material Senlandia had to offer, a shining cloth made of networks and CAI, of layoffs and gate house, of Asian marketing and executive junketing, of increased fees and reduced payrolls, of glowing press releases and gutted curricula. And he donned his new garment and gazed at himself in the mirror.
"Truly wonderful," he said. "Wonderful indeed," exclaimed Count Wayne, Count Brian, Count Tony and Baron Tontech, "Who can fail to see the glory!"
"Wonderful is indeed the word," murmured Baron Farid, for all he could see was Steve in the ducal Y fronts. But he said nothing aloud so as not to contradict his betters.
Then Duke Steve went on a stately progress around Senlandia. "It is truly magnificent! A marvelous spectacle! A sign of greater things to come!" cried the "good" pedagogues who had come out to applaud at the request of the barons. But then a scholar, wide-eyed, said, "He's wearing only Y fronts!" And all the scholars took up the chorus, "He's wearing Y fronts!" "And they are the same 'Bottom Line' brand that he's been wearing for the last twenty-five years!" shouted a "bad" pedagogue. And all the scholars and the "bad'" pedagogues, and then more and more of the "good" pedagogues, joined in the laughter.
Duke Steve rushed back to Shag Castle to tell the counts what had befallen
him. They consoled him and explained that the rabble had perception
problems. "They must be educated," said Duke Steve. "They must
be taught a lesson," said the counts, and they all sat down with Sir Mel,
the Lord High Executioner, to prepare the lesson plan.
This technician is the same individual whose services were so highly esteemed that a professor with 25 years’ standing at Seneca wrote to the technician’s supervisor recommending him for a 1997 Seneca Excellence Award, saying that he was “one of the most helpful staff members that I have ever encountered here.”
Any layoff is bad— this one is just plain stupid
It’s true. The library has laid off the only individual responsible at Newnham and King campuses for “maintaining, setting up and testing electronic and electromechanical equipment; troubleshooting and repairing electronic and electromechanical equipment; providing backup coverage for the A/V Library; adapting and building components; and maintaining and coordinating full maintenance and repair records for A/V equipment.” No other technician performs these functions.
The next time the data projector breaks down while you are making a computer presentation, no immediate help will be available. Ditto for the overhead, the video-recorder, the video cameras, the tape recorders, and so on.
And guess who also designed,
installed, maintained, and repaired the video monitor systems at Newnham
and King, and the video-distribution systems for the now-defunct C.I.L.?
Guess who also backed up the staff responsible
for scheduling, circulation, and distribution of A/V software and equipment?
Perhaps the College will replace this full-time position with a part-time position, or perhaps outside contractors will be hired for repairs. In either case, the ramifications are obvious. The personal relationship that exists between the on-site electronics technician and professors fosters a constant exchange and an understanding of our classroom needs.
Short-sighted
How will we deal with the
inevitable delays in repairs to equipment, in an already shortened semester?
Who, in the absence of our now redundant technician, will act as technical
advisor on committees such as the Library’s New Technology Committee;
its sub-committee, the Computer Training Committee; or the College Teleconferencing
Committee, a sub-committee of the College Computing Council? Who
will continue to produce manuals such as the Seneca College Electronic
Classroom Operational Manual, a document produced at the personal initiative
of the laid-off technician?
Before making this decision,
did anyone consider asking professors how it would affect course delivery?
If Seneca managers themselves were constant users of this type of equipment
in their jobs, they might value it more. Perhaps we should
hope for some embarrassing breakdowns of electronic equipment during management
presentations to wealthy foreign investors.
In the meantime, if you foresee the need of a
full-time on-site electronics technician, inform your supervisor
and send a copy of your memo or e-mail to Janice Hagan, President of Local
561.
I teach in the department of theatre, and I want to tell you why I am on strike.
For the past 10 years or so, we at York have had budget cuts. Many of these cuts have been shared around the university, but of late it seems to me that they have been borne more and more heavily by the front-line workers —the professors — and the clientele that we serve — the students.
Every time you have asked me to do more (by passing the cuts down to my level), I have done so. Every time you have asked me to teach more (by passing the cuts down to me), I have done so.
You asked me to double the size of my first-year class. I did so because I recognized the financial troubles of the university. You then asked me (by cutting the budgets of sister departments) to include all the dance department’s first-year students in my first-year course. I did so because I wanted to help students in other beleaguered departments.
You asked me (by cutting the
departmental budget) to double the size of my second-year course in my
specialty, lighting design. I did so, even though that meant doubling my
contact hours.
You asked me (by cutting our departmental budget
and forcing us to reduce our senior course offerings) to teach more introductory
courses. I did so, albeit reluctantly, since the reason I teach at a university
is to teach at both a lower and an advanced level in my specialty.
You asked me (by cutting our budget) to cut the senior course in my specialty from a full credit to a half credit. I did so, even though this meant increasing my workload, by collapsing most of the content of a full course into a half course.
You asked me this fall (by passing the financial troubles of the university on to me) to collapse my fourth-year course in my specialty into my third-year course for the coming year, thus doubling my work. I will do so even though this is likely to take my department very clearly out of the ranks of good theatre schools in Canada.
You asked me (by not replacing any of the recent retirements in our department) to serve on more faculty and departmental committees. I did so because I recognize that the work of serving the students must go on despite your cuts.
You have told me not to ask
for a pay raise for the duration of Ontario’s social contract, and the
years following. I didn’t ask for one for many years.
You have doubled the size of the department,
for the sake of provincial income. I doubted the wisdom of constantly increasing
the size of the school without adding any more teaching resources, but
we did so, because you told us to.
You have tripled the number of students I teach. You have doubled my contact hours. You have doubled my committee work. All this I contributed as my share of the responsibility to the financial well-being of the university.
My students now get me for only six minutes each, per year, for one-on-one advising, down from 25 minutes. They deserve better, but you asked me to take more and more work without any more resources.
Then you tore up our collective agreement, unilaterally removed those clauses that you found irritating, and refused to discuss any compromise.
And now you blame me for the current impasse. You lie to the people of Ontario by telling them that I am the one who does not have the good of the university and of the students in mind. You tell the press and the people of the province that I refuse to negotiate. You tell the press and the people of Ontario that the only matters under discussion are “the richest retirement package in the province” and increasing our pay. You have not given me any credit, or even recognition, for doing everything you have asked me to do to help the university in its 10 years of financial difficulties.
For 10 years I have been like
Boxer in Animal Farm, saying “I must work harder,” and for 10 years the
university has said, “There is no money.” I can understand that the university
is in parlous times. For 10 years the university has solved the problem
of its resource shortage by charging the students more money, and by getting
me to teach more students in larger classes at a lower level. I have never
balked at more work, until now. The university says it has no more resources
for me.
Unfortunately, I now have
no more resources for the university.
When I voted for the strike, I was rather lukewarm to the idea. My problem was that I had no means of letting you know how strongly I felt about my workload and the direction in which you were taking the university (since you discarded my contract without consulting my union, and were refusing even to meet with us). I thought that my vote in favour of strike action would send you a message that I was really serious in my desire to negotiate a resolution.
Now, however, you have changed all that. I have found my days of walking the line with my colleagues to be extraordinary. Our shared workload, and our feelings of powerlessness in the face of your administering our university the way you have, have united us in a true fellowship.
It has taken a lot of work for you to radicalize me the way you have, but you have succeeded. I have volunteered to be on the next negotiating committee, and look forward to working to make York University serve its students and its faculty and the people of Ontario. I look forward to undoing at least some of the damage you have done to us all.
But what does "confidential"
mean? What can you discuss, and with whom?
Article 6.1 of the Procedures on Discrimination/Harassment
reads, in part, "Parties to a complaint are advised to refrain from discussing
the complaint with anyone else." Faculty should note that this is
advice only, and not a directive. We have found, moreover, that this
is not good advice.
If you find yourself involved in allegations of discrimination/harassment at the College, we advise that you discuss it immediately with a trusted person, such as a union steward. You may find it helpful to contact the Union President, Ted Montgomery; the Vice President, Larry Olivo; the Vice President for Employment Equity, Diane Meaghan; or the Chief Steward, Josef Stavroff. They have experience in dealing with these cases. You can feel free to discuss any aspects of the matter with these individuals, with colleagues, with spouses, with lawyers, or even with the media if you so desire.
In fact, College procedure specifically notes the right of individuals to seek resolution outside the College and its complaints process: Section 8 of the Procedures on Discrimination/ Harassment states, in part, "[This procedure] does not preclude any individual from seeking other options available to him/her, such as the Ontario Human Rights Commission, the Ontario/Federal Courts and/or the Collective Agreement(s)."
You can be sure that the Centre for Equity and Human Rights, in investigating the complaint, will be discussing the matter with any number of persons who might have information relevant to the complaint.
For instance, one Seneca professor, charged with discriminatory behaviour, learned, through student remarks and the general rumour mill, that officers of the Centre for Equity and Human Rights had been contacting his students, asking whether the professor had ever said or done discriminatory things. His reputation has consequently been tainted by the spread of rumours. Recently, the professor was read orally the Centre’s summary of the case involving him, but was not permitted to obtain a written copy for proper and careful study. The matter, after over seven months on file at the Centre for Equity and Human Rights, remains officially unresolved.
In another case, interviewees were asked whether a certain professor was "likely" to make “this kind of” discriminatory comment.
The information-gathering and adjudication techniques of the Centre appear at times to be capricious, unscientific, and arbitrary. This kind of undesirable behaviour is much assisted by secrecy. An official who is not subject to scrutiny will feel freer to do as he or she pleases than would be the case where an official knows he/she is being observed and may be made accountable.
We should feel free to comment publicly on unfairness, as soon as it occurs, to protect ourselves from the harmful effect of unfounded charges and unfair, undue process.
Be careful. Don’t go alone. Talk right away to someone with experience.
Individual responses were received from only four professors. Among the remaining seven responding were President Quinlan and the representatives of four "College-approved" councils and committees (as Quinlan refers to them): Judith Limkilde for the College Computing Council; Jackie Schach for the Strategic Plan Advisory Committee; Kim Raymer for the Service Council, Frank Skill for Seneca Academic Council, and Katherine Janzen for Administrative and Faculty Professional Development. Also responding were Larry Olivo on behalf of Local 560, and Diane Meaghan and Ingrid Phillip for the General Education Council.
In his submission to the Board, Quinlan attempted to "taint" and lessen the legitimacy of the faculty responses by referring to the elected General Education Council as an "ad hoc" committee and referring (albeit incorrectly) to two faculty correspondents as "current and/or former Executive members of Local 560."
One faculty respondent, Stuart Leigh, recognized and identified the current style of Seneca's management quite aptly:
Only if he appoints members
in whom he has confidence, can he be expected to listen to their advice
seriously, and it would prevent vested interests with other agendas corrupting
the process.”
We must agree. Why pretend that our opinions
and expertise are important to anyone in management? There is no evidence
to support such a conclusion, and plenty to the contrary. Why pretend
that participative management ever really existed? Whenever
any organization such as SAC or any local action committee has become a
forum for intelligent discussion and advice on college issues,
has it not been disempowered and/or discredited by management?
No doubt the new College Council structure will be paraded as a way of giving life to the employee empowerment Quinlan promised in March of 1992 when he took office. Maybe the Board of Governors will be fooled. But employees won’t. We‘ll see these new clothes of the emperor for what they are.
Apparently the Board of Governors thinks there’s a communications problem. They’re right — but it’s not the problem they are being sold by Quinlan and Board Chair, Ross. They’ve been told the faculty are just a special-interest group. Perhaps they’ve forgotten the Quinlan College Action Plan reaction. There is a communication problem. The Board is not listening, except to those who are misleading them.
The Local 560 Executive approved and delivered a donation of $1,000 to the York University Faculty Association. In thanking us, the YUFA Vice Chairperson (former Seneca teacher Neil Naiman) wrote, “We greatly appreciate this demonstration of solidarity and recognize your association’s commitment to the struggle for quality education in Ontario.” Special thanks to all those Local 560 members who have been picketing at York’s two campuses to express support for YUFA members.
“Socrates is guilty of corrupting the minds of
the young, and of believing in deities of his own invention instead of
the gods recognized by the State.”
Plato c. 428– 347 B.C.
“Democracy passes into despotism .”
Plato
“A little rebellion now and then is a good thing.”
Thomas Jefferson
“We have to admit that we all feel sorry for President
Quinlan.We hope that scientists one day find a cure for silver foot in
the mouth disease.”
And
“This is not a good way to run a discount dollar
store. How can you effectively prepare students while running an
educational institution this way?”
IMPACT — the Seneca student
paper
Fourth Estate at its Best: Authentic Headlines
| THE LOCAL is a publication of OPSEU Local
560, representing the Professors, Counsellors, and Librarians of Seneca
College. Feel free to copy any original material, with appropriate
credit. We welcome submissions, which should be sent to Patricia
Clark or Ted Montgomery at the Newnham Campus.
OPSEU Local 560 2942 Finch Ave. E. Suite #119, Scarborough, Ontario M1W 2T4 Tel: (416) 495-1599 Fax: (416) 495-7573 e-mail: opseu560@idirect.com |