Give and Take, Snow Days and More

As we wait for the Republicans and PEOTUS DJ Trump to come up with their replacement for the Affordable Care Act, and while I listen to announcements on the closing of schools for weather (I still get a charge out of hearing my schools mentioned), I am reminded of the contract negotiations about the calendar and the issue of snow days at Hancock, back in the ‘70s.

Calendar negotiation was a minefield for both the union and administration, because one thing was guaranteed: no matter what you agreed to about the start of school, the end of school, the breaks, both length and placement, a significant number of people would be pissed off and loudly unhappy.

Snow day scheduling was also a challenge for a while. Hancock teachers, being on the bottom as far as competitive salaries were concerned compared to most other county districts, were not inclined to work more days than was required by law. The district, on the other hand, wanted a set calendar and thus insisted on a certain number of snow days to make sure we met state requirements. If we didn’t use them, well, BONUS! (Bonus for the district. anyway.) This was before snow days were as common and state aid was tied to attendance for districts like the Place.

Our proposal, for several years running, had called for scheduling the minimum number of required days (no snow days), with the proviso that whatever days necessary to meet state standards in the event of a run of bad weather would be tacked on to the end of the year. Every year that proposal was rejected and the fight went on. Compromise wasn’t a dirty word back then and we always managed to reach agreement.

Knowing that our usual proposal was destined for rejection, we offered a variation – scheduling several extra days (we didn’t care how many) but removing any extras at the end of the year. The administrative negotiating team responded that they couldn’t possibly do that, but would return with a counter-proposal.

And they did. Their proposal: schedule no snow days, but add any needed extra days on to the end of the school year. After we rubbed our sore jaws, removed them from the table, stopped the bleeding from our tongues, and composed ourselves after stifling our incredulous laughter, we caucused and came back to accept their proposal. Once the proposal wasn’t ours, but theirs, it became acceptable.

The ACA (aka Obamacare, née RomneyCare, originally of the conservative Heritage Foundation) seems doomed, but Speaker Ryan and PEOTUS DJ Trump both claim to have (secret?) plans to replace it. Mr. Trump even says his plan will cover everyone. Given that I have both a daughter and now a granddaughter with auto-immune diseases that would, pre-ACA, have eliminated them from  insurance coverage due to their pre-existing conditions  (a known problem before the ACA {I’m choosing to use that acronym to minimize the frothing that seems to result in some corners every time President Obama’s name gets mentioned}), that piece is crucial to me and my family.

I admit that it will irk me if the vilified Obamacare morphs into superfantastic Trumpcare or Ryancare or GOPcare (modifications that could have begun 6 years ago had the goal been to actually do something for the citizens and not just deny credit to the president), but, like the snow day policy of so many years ago, I’ll just take the win and move on.

Oh, and just like you paid for the treatment of those who did not have insurance when they showed up at an ER before the ACA, or got “free” care from a hospital, you’ll also pay for the new and improved health care plan that is coming soon to a neighborhood near you. It just won’t be called Obamacare. If that makes you feel better about it, okay. After all, health care is all about feeling better.

Also on the Don't Get Berndt Blog

TBT - Working to Contract, October, 1973

For Throw Back Thursday, an old picture (probable photo credit to the late Curt Kenner, passed on to me by the late Richard Sharp, and that's two too many “lates” for my liking) of me being interviewed by Betsy Bruce (who, incredibly, is still working). It was, for the record, one of the worst interviews of all time, and if any other record exists I hope it never sees the light of day. Just the memory of it is embarrasing enough. I would have had to improve to make it up to awful. Thankfully, it never aired. Before that school year ended, however, I was giving (radio) interviews almost in my sleep for the early morning broadcasts. Key: ignore the actual question and answer what you really wanted the reporter to ask.

This came to mind as I read an article about Marshawn Lynch’s tactic to avoid being fined by the NFL prior to the Super Bowl last weekend. (See: http://theweek.com/articles/536184/subversive-brillianceof-marshawn-lynch ) “Work to Rule” is an old tactic, although at Hancock in 1973 we called it “Work to Contract.” I’ll leave it to others to debate whether it was a reasonable, fair, or even effective tactic, although teachers were definitely frustrated and felt like we had to take a stand.

Among other issues, like frozen salaries, we were protesting the attempted elimination of personal leave. I think there were others, but that was the flash point I remember. Jim McLaughlin and I were selected to meet with a subgroup of school board members to try to work out a compromise. We meet weekly in the evenings for at least a month and finally reached an agreement. However, the school board, I specifically remember Earl Meuhlfarth, Berlina Green and Art Hartman as the prime recalcitrants, and Superintendent Veryl B. Young rejected the agreement, giving momentum to a period of labor strife that lasted for several years.

There were two daily newspapers back then, and a (sympathetic) reporter for the St. Louis Globe-Democrat once told us, “Just call me when you go out on strike. The story is already written, I just need to plug in the dates and new information.” That’s how inevitable such an action seemed.

But that October we were certainly not at that point; the grievances had not yet accumulated and we hadn’t done the necessary planning and political groundwork. So the teachers association (HPCTA) voted to “work to contract,” meaning, like Marshawn Lynch, we would do the minimum required, which meant we would not stay past the listed hours for any “extra, uncompensated, duties.” As you might guess, students were not happy to hear that whatever clubs or extra activities they participated in would disappear until the dispute was resolved.

Politically, that did not include sports teams, of course, because coaches were compensated via extra duty contracts. Although the action would have been even more effective had sports been threatened, we would have lost the coaches’ support, as tenuous as that seemed to be at the time (and, in fairness, would have cost them the minimal money they made for coaching).

Student reaction was swift. They staged a walkout that quicly brought the media to our front steps and pushed me in front of Betsy’s microphone. I have no knowledge that our students were actively encouraged by teachers, but it would take a level of naivete beyond even mine to deny that the seed had at least been planted and, probably, nurtured. Certainly HPCTA was accused of working behind the scenes for such an outcome, with the expected denials. In any case, there we were, making history with the first (to my knowledge) student walk-out in St. Louis.

Things got worse before they got better, but a new school board and superintendent, Roger Brodbeck, slowly reached accomodations, and, eventually, even trust, with the union. That strike story remains unwritten, although there were at least two last-minute agreements in the next couple or three years to avoid that ultimate confrontation, but those are stories for another time.

As evidence that even the teachers were not completely on the same page in terms of what actions to take, I’ll share a final story of how Jim McLaughlin and I split, temporarily, on our own stand. Debbie Weissflug and I had been working to start a Drama Club. Not being a sport, there was no question about us being compensated, of course. But Debbie and I came up with a proposal that kind of made an end-run (another football reference to tie in to the Super Bowl) around “work to contract;” we convined the school board to issue us a contract that would pay us with a cut of the “profits” from whatever play we put on. I’m pretty sure that play was You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. Mac argued with me that we were sabotaging the job action and undermining teacher unity. Being trained as a lawyer, however, he recognized that technically we were also following the “letter of the action.” I’ve always loved irony. And I don’t remember getting any money.

The Union, Part 1 of many

In honor of Labor Day I thought I’d share a little about the teacher’s union. Because I recognize this is a topic with limited appeal, these entries will be rationed.

Most people know I eventually rose to a position of some power within the local and even state organizations. How in the world did that happen to boy raised by good corporate Republican parents? Admittedly, I was just a series of disappointments to them: wrong wife, wrong career, union activist....

My involvement in the HPCTA (Hancock Place Community Teachers Association, at that point affiliated with the Missouri State Teachers Association [MSTA] and the National Education Association [NEA]) was anything but inevitable. At the luncheon for first year teachers I was handed a form. My only thought, “Here’s the first of my payroll deductions.” The organization’s leadership, role, functions, none of that mattered to me.

Remember, we had the highest starting salary in the state of Missouri, thanks primarily to the work of Michael Bingman, who then left the district and was working for an umbrella group called the St. Louis Suburban Teachers Association (SLSTA) representing local associations around the county. Enough acronyms for you? Wait, there’s more, or at least will be in future posts....

I guess there were conflicts brewing, but I was pretty oblivious. I had my hands full just trying to survive my inaugural year (and plan for the next year) to worry about anything else. Had Finding Nemo been a movie then, it would have been Dori’s mantra, “Keep on swimming” that I would have adopted. I remember using the treading water analogy, just struggling to stay afloat.

I also remember being asked to run for building representative (representing the high school on the HPCTA Executive Committee) at the end of that first year; I declined, saying, “Nah, I’m not interested in that stuff.” I probably didn’t even go to the general membership meetings at that point. Or, if I did, they weren’t particularly memorable. Clearly my radical true-believer days were ahead of me! I would point out that at this time principals were, or at least could also be members, which had a chilling impact on some teachers, especially at the elementary level. I don’t recall the high school principal having any involvement or even membership.

I truly don’t know what happened to change things so dramatically during the next year. The superintendent was creepy and incompetent. The school board clearly had buyer’s remorse about giving teachers the big raise, talking about the “wagon pulling the horse.” Our starting salary was frozen and some attempts made to even block experience steps. Hancock teachers were a little ahead of the organizing curve, but unionizing* teachers was building momentum throughout the state and nation, and a Vietnam vet shop teacher, the late Richard Sharp, was more than happy to take the reins (of the wagon?) and stir the pot.

Years later I came to believe that a part of the conflict was jealousy, thinking that teachers were going to be making too much money, especially when compared to board and community members. That same attitude continues to fuel modern-day resentment of unions and union members, in my opinion. Because unions have successfully raised the standard of living for their members, both those feeling left behind and those feeling pressure from below (“those people don’t deserve to make almost as much as me!”), countermeasures and movements have arisen to block (what I consider) progress. I’ve mentioned it before, but the erosion of middle class America directly parallels the erosion of labor union membership.

Sorry for the digression. This blog is about Hancock, not politics. The struggle for power during my second year really forced a taking of sides. Neutrality was not an option. The board and administration seemed intent on showing who was boss, but were so clumsy and ham-handed that everything they said and did became fodder for Sharp’s needle. He started a newsletter, TGIF, prompting a memo from the Superintendent that he should try to find a more positive title. Sharp promptly responded with his “brown-helmet edition,” So Happy It’s Thursday. There was no further discussion of retitling. TGIF became an institution and a powerful weapon for teachers for the next couple of decades or so. 

Anyway, at the end of the third year, I was asked to run for HPCTA Vice-president. Sharp (and his allies, most notably Curt Kenner) wanted someone from the high school and there was fear that Mary Geldmacher, a School 3 teacher, wouldn’t be strong enough. Flattery is powerful and so I agreed to the nomination, but I think they underestimated Mary, as well as the elementary teachers (sexism?). It became a moot point, however, when she won the election. The radical block then made the awful decision to put me up for Treasurer, and I did win this post. 

Because the history of HPCTA and my involvement could be a book in itself, let me end by offering the following unsolicited piece of advice: Never, never, never, elect someone to an office that requires actual competence, like Treasurer, for political reasons. I was awful, but it did launch me into the forefront as things heated up the next year. But those are stories for another time.

* For the most part, teachers at this time tried to avoid using the term “union,” thinking it sounded unprofessional.