About Me
- The Riehl World
- I'm a retired university administrator with a second career as a free-lance op-ed columnist for San Diego's North County Times daily newspaper, circulation 94,000. I'm also an in-the-closet folksong picker of guitar, banjo, mandolin and ukulele.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Arizona law claims and facts
Before Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer issued her executive order requiring law enforcement officers to be trained to avoid racial profiling, Rep. Brian Bilbray, R-Solana Beach, explained in a nationally televised interview how police could enforce Arizona's new immigration law without such training.
"They will look at the kind of dress you wear," he told Chris Mathews, "There's different type of attire, right down to the shoes."
North County Times political cartoon freelancer John Webster depicted our 50th District representative in oversized clown shoes, asking a cop writing him a ticket how he could tell he was a congressman.
Bilbray has yet to disavow shoe-style profiling, but in an apparent attempt to gain gravitas after his interview went viral on YouTube, Bilbray wrote an opinion piece for this newspaper ("Arizona law result of federal failures," May 9).
Here's a fact check:
Claim: Growing threats to its economic security and public safety forced Arizona to take action.
Fact: The year before the law was enacted Homeland Security and the FBI reported an 18 percent decline in the state's illegal immigrants, a 9 percent drop in violent crime and 6 percent fewer burglaries. That suggests the new law is more about politics than public well-being.
Claim: Arizona is simply enforcing federal law.
Fact: A half-truth. Section 287g of the Immigration and Nationality Act authorizes Homeland Security to sign agreements with state law enforcement agencies to enforce immigration laws only if designated officers are trained and supervised by federal immigration and customs officers.
Placing training and supervision in the hands of local law enforcement agencies gives the green light to rogue sheriffs such as Maricopa County's Joe Arpaio, who has come under federal investigation for alleged civil rights violations.
Claim: Requiring employers to use E-verify will stop the hiring of illegal workers.
Fact: A recent study by a research company hired by Homeland Security to evaluate the program showed E-verify failed to catch more than half of the unauthorized workers it checks.
Claim: Immigration reform has been hindered by "radical, pro-amnesty partisan lawmakers."
Fact: Requiring illegal immigrants to pay a fine, undergo criminal background checks, learn English and go to the back of the line to apply for permanent residency is not amnesty. The only president favoring amnesty in the last 25 years was Ronald Reagan, signing the 1986 law that allowed border crashers who had lived in the U.S. continuously up until 1982 to be legal residents with no financial penalty and few questions asked.
Our previous 50th District representative is in prison. The incumbent's bizarre national interview, attracting more than 44,000 YouTube views and counting, may have his constituents wondering if, as Webster's cartoon suggests, they've exchanged a crook for a clown.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
California's "broken" public schools
There's no shortage of complaints about our "broken" public schools or suggestions about how to fix them. But if success is measured by student test scores alone, only a handful of schools in North County are in urgent need of repair.
Each time test results are released, we're reminded that schools with the best scores are attended by students from the wealthiest families. That doesn't necessarily mean those schools have the best teachers. Students from affluent families don't have to lean so heavily on teachers to succeed. In fact, a case could be made that teachers with the greatest influence on student learning can be found in schools with the lowest test scores.
So how do you mend a broken school? For starters, we could fix a school financing system that punishes the poor while rewarding the wealthy.
Here's how it works in North County. The test score gap between Vista schools and San Dieguito schools in Encinitas, Del Mar and Solana Beach matches the $45,000 difference in median family income separating the two districts. While Vista faces sanctions for low academic performance, the award-winning San Dieguito district boasts on its website of being "one of the nation's finest."
In her March 25 budget message, Vista Superintendent Joyce Bales noted enrollment had plunged by 3,000 students during the last decade. Since funding is based on daily attendance, budget cuts have resulted in "more than a $50 million decrease for three consecutive years." That means fewer teachers and larger classes, hardly a recipe for fixing broken schools.
Meanwhile, San Dieguito Superintendent Ken Noah announced his district is now getting more revenue from property taxes than from state funding. Unlike Vista, when enrollment falls, San Dieguito schools prosper. As a result, the district faces a manageable $8 million cut in state funding for special programs during the next two years. That will require belt tightening and turning away transfer students from other districts. But there's no talk of larger classes or teacher layoffs in North County's wealthiest school district.
Some say unions are to blame for our broken schools. But if that is so, why don't they have the same effect everywhere? The district and faculty union collaborate for the good of their students in San Dieguito.
But in Vista, where a multimillion-dollar commercial reading program, imposed by a divisive superintendent, has shown questionable evidence of success, and where the primary concerns of two recent school board members have been to oppose unions and gay marriage, the teachers aren't happy.
This tale of two districts suggests irrational school funding, combined with dysfunctional leadership, are more to blame for our broken schools.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Has the tea gone cold?
Has the local tea party movement reached its peak? Comparing this year's Oceanside event with last year's led me to that conclusion.
Last year's crowd, after being revved up by speakers at the Civic Center, marched to the pier to dump sandbags marked "tea" into the sea. It was a family affair, with lots of kids, a few of them in strollers. As they marched along, the angry crowd chanted "USA! USA! It was a festive affair, but the signs claiming our elected leaders were traitors were unnerving.
Organizers said there were at least 5,000 in attendance.
This year's event attracted only about 1,500 true believers to the pier amphitheater, according to police estimates, and produced a more sedate, sit-and-listen crowd. Promoted as a family-friendly affair with face-painting for the kids, I was struck by the shortage of children. On average, this year's partiers appeared to be about 10 years older than last year's.
The scheduled headliner, San Diego's favorite conservative radio talk jock Rick Roberts, failed to show up. A lesser known media personality, feeling the need to fire up his audience, repeatedly begged, "ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?" The tepid response indicated many were not familiar with that kind of rocking.
Despite the crowd's indifference to matters of municipal politics, a few City Council hopefuls showed up. When Oceanside recall survivor Jerry Kern breathlessly boasted of his victory over labor union attacks, the response was underwhelming.
Organized labor was not among the day's favorite targets.
Pandering reached its peak, though, with the arrival onstage of gubernatorial hopeful Steve Poizner. Dramatically declaring, "I don't like to pay taxes, do you?" he promised to cut taxes, put a stop to illegal immigration "once and for all," and sue the feds "all the way to the Supreme Court" to eliminate California's "man-made water shortage."
He failed to mention his Web site promises to make a "massive" investment in education and to build environmentally friendly water-supply infrastructure projects.
Less government spending, not more, was the red meat this crowd hungered for.
Here's what we learned about this year's tea party supporters from the recent New York Times/CBS News Poll:
-- 58 percent think our best years are behind us when it comes to good jobs.
-- 75 percent are over 45, including 29 percent seniors.
-- 89 percent are white.
-- 59 percent are men.
-- While 84 percent of tea party supporters believe their views represent most Americans, only 25 percent of Americans think they do.
Only time will tell, but I'd say a collection of cranky old white guys vowing to bring back the good old days is unlikely to have much of a political future in this country.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Union influence on teacher pay
This newspaper's editorial board has issued an invitation for the community to engage in a discussion of how to improve our schools, narrowing the topic to five areas: teacher tenure, class size, school finance, union influence and leveraging technology. My thoughts about teacher tenure and union influence were shaped by five years of teaching high school English, followed by a 30-year career in public university administration.
Recent studies show that as many as half of all beginning teachers leave the profession in five years. I was a member of that group. When I left teaching it wasn't because of the pay, or that I didn't like working with students, or that I was a failure in the classroom. My principal offered me a pay raise to persuade me to stay.
I quit because I saw no career advancement as a classroom teacher and had no interest in being a school counselor or principal. Had there been a career track leading to a "master teacher" status, with a modified teaching load and responsibilities for mentoring beginning teachers, I might have happily remained in teaching.
Instead, I took a pay cut and an extension of my work year from nine to 12 months to accept a job working with students as a college admissions counselor.
I wonder if other former teachers have left the classroom for similar reasons.
My brief teaching career began in a small rural school in Washington in 1965, at an annual salary of $4,800. An online inflation calculator tells me that would equal the buying power of $33,000 today. If there was a teachers union at the time, nobody told me about it. But there is one today. This year's union-negotiated salary schedule in my old school district shows a first-year teacher's pay has risen to $34,000. Union influence over the years had boosted a novice teacher's buying power by a whopping $83 a month.
The Vista Unified School District's 2009-10 salary schedule lists a beginning teacher's pay at $38,771. That would be the equivalent of $5,450 in 1965 buying power. I'd say the ghosts of Sam Gompers and Jimmy Hoffa are not exactly exchanging high fives about union clout over teacher pay in those two school districts.
While most would agree today's teachers are not overpaid, some say unions are to be blamed for making it hard to get rid of bad teachers and impossible to reward the best. In a future column I'll have more to say about why I think blaming unions is often used as a smokescreen to hide administrative incompetence and a lack of financial commitment to school reform.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Hail to the Chief: A Survivor's Guide to Presidential Egos
By Richard Riehl, in College and University, the
Winter 2010 edition of the journal for the American
Association of College Registrars and Admissions Officers
I once was a student in a graduate seminar taught by the
president of the university where I was a mid-level administrator.
The course focused on what it takes to be the chief executive
of a university. He was the only one of the ten presidents under
whom I served who embraced the role of a college administrator;
the only one with formal training in educational leadership;
and the only one to have risen to his position from the ranks
of student affairs. He believed that presidents must possess
unusually strong egos, since their power begins to wane upon
their second day in office. A new president has to have an
ego strong enough to withstand the criticism that grows
incrementally with each executive decision.
Although I never had the pleasure of reporting directly
to a president, I came to know over the years the size and
shape of their egos and how they affected my daily work.
Those of us in the trenches are well aware of how executive
effluent flows downhill.
You may recognize your own chief executive among the
four types of campus leaders described below, but you’re
more likely to find your president to be a hybrid. I regret
that I was unable to observe a more diverse group. All ten
were white males. (That explains my exclusive use of the
male pronoun.) I suspect that executive egos transcend
race, ethnicity, and gender, but the narrowness of my
experience necessarily limits the validity of my conclusions.
THE RELUCTANT ADMINISTRATOR
Reluctant Administrators (RA) consider themselves, first
and foremost, members of the faculty — displaced scholars
thrust into the most powerful position in the campus bureaucracy.
They long for the day they can return to their first love:
scholarly work. Whatever presidential miscues they make
can be blamed on the bungling of bureaucratic underlings or
on being distracted by the daily burden of administrivia.
I had three RA presidents in my career. The first rose
to his position after having been a scholar respected by
faculty colleagues and a teacher beloved by his students.
He ran into trouble when he hired a provost from a distant
state and charged him with combining academic departments
into “areas of inquiry” more “relevant” to the issues of the day.
It was the 1970s — the age of Aquarius, Woodstock, and waffle
stompers. What he didn’t realize was that dismantling academic
fiefdoms is as hard as moving graveyards.
His next mistake was to oppose the creation of a college
of ethnic studies. He asked his new provost to run inter-
ference on both issues, but that didn’t protect him from the
wrath of both tenured faculty and bell-bottomed undergraduates.
I had very little direct exposure to this president. So I panicked
the day the registrar, my boss’s boss, summoned me to his office
to tell me the president was not pleased I had given a telephone
interview to Newsweek the day my boss was away from his office.
(It was heady stuff for this rookie administrator to be interviewed
by a national magazine!) But when I read the article about the
assistant director of admissions who explained that budget
cuts could cause the layoff of up to 30 faculty members, I figured
I’d soon be returning as a high school English teacher to my
first love. I was relieved the president didn’t fire me for that
rather significant indiscretion. Instead, he informed me through
the chain of command that interviews with the national media
are what presidents do, not first-year administrators.
My next RA president, a scientist drawn from the ranks of
the faculty, called me shortly after he was appointed interim
president. He wanted my opinion of what his presidential
priorities should be. A geologist trained in England, where
universities have neither general education requirements
nor athletic departments, he was comparatively clueless
about the hot issues facing most American college presidents.
At the time, I was director of admissions. Though flattered to
have been asked for my advice, I was wise enough by then
to limit my response to splendid generalities.
My least favorite RA president was a literary scholar who
loved to complain about his bureaucratic burdens. His way
of solving the financial challenges caused by an enrollment
downturn was to gather his vice presidents, call in the admissions
director, pound the table, and shout that he wanted more students
NOW! The next day he’d greet everyone with a smile and
inquire gently, “How’s recruitment going?” A thick skin and
a short memory are the best strategies for surviving this type of RA.
THE SMARTEST GUY IN THE ROOM
Presidents who regard themselves as the Smartest Guy
in the Room (SGIR) have the most tender of all presidential egos,
often requiring self-administered stroking.
I served under two SGIR presidents in my career. One liked
to tell me how ineffective my boss — the provost — was.
It was then that I practiced my half-smile, glazed-eyes look.
I knew his tirade was a no-winner for me: to nod in agreement
would be not only disloyal, but I also knew he’d tell my boss
about it; to defend my boss would be to dispute the president’s
status as the Smartest Guy in the Room. By maintaining my
zombie-like gaze, I only risked being thought of as not the
shiniest penny in the drawer — which is the safest place to be
in the company of an SGIR.
My other SGIR stroked his ego by arranging to land the leading
role in the school musical, “The Student Prince,” giving rise to
suspicion among the deans about the size of the theater
department’s future budget allocations. He turned out to be
passably good in the part, but the balding 40-year-old looked
a little strange on stage amid the cast of 20-year-olds playing
his fellow students.
This president also had the distinction of being the shortest
administrator on campus. I once met with him one on one in
his office. Knowing he was about three inches shorter than I,
I was puzzled to find myself looking up at him as we sat across
from each other. Assuming the customary eyes-lowered
posture of a supplicant, I noticed that his feet barely reached
the floor: His lofty ego had been boosted by the height adjustment
on his executive chair.
The SGIR is often the target of the hallway whisperings of
lower-level administrators and support staff that “the emperor
has no clothes.” And regardless of your place in the administrative
pecking order, the SGIR will keep you captive with stories
about his own achievements and the failures of previous
presidents and other administrators. But do feel free to send
irate students to the SGIR. Those with whom I worked were
unlikely to give such a student the time of day.
THE GOOD OLD BOY
The Good Old Boy (GOB) is comfortable in his own skin,
often giving the impression of being dumb like a fox. His folksy
ways should not be mistaken for weakness, however: GOBs
take pleasure in being underestimated.
Some GOBs crave to be loved by all. They hate to say no,
often getting others to say no for them. Whenever possible,
avoid sending an irate student to a GOB—that is, unless you
don’t mind having your decisions overruled.
I served under three GOBs. The first was a very large man,
a Texan reminiscent of Lyndon Johnson. Once, during a
faculty Senate meeting, he became the target of a barrage of
criticism in response to his plan to create a school of technology.
He simply smiled and nodded through the entire attack.
After the smoke had cleared, he drawled that all the criticism
leveled at him might be valid, but he was the guy in charge
and his decision would stand.
Another of my GOBs was a president straight from central casting:
square-jawed, tall, and white-haired, with a perpetual smile
and a warm southern accent. His ego was fed by never turning
anybody down. When it came to competing interests among
faculty and staff, he believed in social Darwinism.
“The best will rise to the top,” he told me during my job interview.
He was fond of giving hugs to women — especially the support
staff he encountered in the halls and offices. He once
brought to my office a student to whom we’d denied admission.
With his arm around the student’s shoulder, he told me with a
broad smile, “I’ll bet Mr. Riehl can help you.”
My third GOB infuriated the faculty by siding with students
on every issue. He was a short-term interim president,
so the faculty held their collective breath until his appointment
ended. Not one to believe in written speeches, he’d wing it.
Literally. In his first speech to the community, he busted a
Charleston dance move, featuring the famous exchanging
hands-on-knees bit. It was a pretty weird sight. (“Dancing with
the Stars” had not yet made its television debut.)
Just don’t make the mistake of thinking the GOB is your pal.
Underneath all that surface warmth is an ego needing
constant attention.
THE COMPLEAT ADMINISTRATOR
I served under two Compleat Administrator (CA) presidents in
my 30-year career in enrollment services. My favorite was a
scholar of organizational leadership. He relied on data to
make decisions and was a careful planner. Best of all, he
knew how to handle people. He made his subordinates
want to work harder while not pressuring them with anything
but expectations for excellence. He openly admitted he had
a substantial ego, but it didn’t get in the way of his decision
making. He was never apologetic for being an administrator.
He believed the quality of administrative leadership could
either enhance or hinder teaching and learning.
He also understood that even the most skillful of campus
leaders cannot succeed without the support of their academic
communities. If they don’t make hard decisions soon after
being appointed to office, they’re unlikely to make them at all.
In his case, proud of firing an incompetent vice president
early in his presidency, he regretted not eliminating the football
program, a perennial loser on the field and in the budget office.
By the time he gained the courage to kill the program, he’d
lost the clout to pull it off.
The other CA was not so warm and fuzzy. The essence of his
plan to build a more diverse student body was to add a
minority recruiter to the admissions staff. I suggested to my
vice president that it would be better to bring in a higher-level
administrator responsible for helping to create a campus
climate that would both retain and attract more minority students.
When I got word that the president wanted to give me money
and wondered why I didn’t want it, I agreed it would be best
to add another recruiter to my staff.
Presidential egos come in all shapes and sizes.
Here are a few survival strategies:
· Never bend the truth, either to make your president happy
or to make yourself look good.
· In the company of a president, there’s room enough for
only one ego.
· Propose at least two alternatives in response to a crisis.
That way your president will be able both to take credit for
what works and to blame you for what doesn’t.
· Don’t make a habit of painting a bleaker picture than it is,
hoping that if things don’t turn out so badly everyone will
be happier. “Sky-is-falling” types soon lose their credibility
with ego-driven presidents.
· When enrollment is up, credit the faculty, not your nifty
new recruitment strategies.
· Be wary of becoming the president’s pal. (See above
regarding “space for egos.”)
· Make friends with a chief of staff who has the ear of the president.
Most important, keep your perspective. Do not attempt to
make yourself the indispensable administrator. Cemeteries
are filled with indispensable people.
About the author: Richard J. Riehl is a freelance op-ed columnist for San Diego’s
North County Times. Throughout his 33-year career in higher education administration,
he was an active AACRAO member, including service on the College and University
Editorial Board.
Friday, March 26, 2010
THE RIEHL WORLD: Politics differ in two cities
If you walk the seawall late at night along Carlsbad Boulevard, you may hear voices in the distance sounding the alarm: "To arms! To arms! The unions are coming! The unions are coming!"
The familiar warning cry began with a Feb. 20 headline in this newspaper: "City's unions expected to play active role in mayoral election."
From the day City Councilman Keith Blackburn declared his candidacy for mayor, tongues have been wagging about how police and firefighters unions have announced their intent to do whatever they can to put the former police officer in the seat that Bud Lewis occupied for a quarter of a century.
Unlike in Oceanside, labor unions have not played a major role in Carlsbad City Council politics. With more union involvement, will North County's model municipality of political civility be in danger of being sucked into the all-consuming black hole of partisanship that plagues its northern neighbor?
That brings up the question of whether unions alone can change the climate of city government. If the two cities were alike in other ways, adding union influence might have a similar impact. But a closer look at how the cities differ in the challenges facing their city officials suggests Carlsbad voters may have nothing to fear but fear itself.
For starters, take a look at the budget charts of taxing and spending on the Web sites of the two cities. Carlsbad's pie chart shows 57 percent of revenue coming from taxes and 18 percent of expenditures going to public safety. In Oceanside, taxes generate 69 percent of income, while 62 percent of expenses go to public safety.
The ingredients of the two slices of the pie may not be directly comparable, but in politics, public perceptions count most. Questions about where the money comes from and where it goes are the hot-button issues that can lead to dysfunctional politics in every city. Their budget charts alone suggest that Carlsbad and Oceanside officials face very different city finance issues.
An online respondent to the Feb. 20 newspaper article urged his fellow citizens not to vote for any candidate who gets a penny of union support. He should be reminded that the generous city employee retirement benefits that folks like him complain about were created by a council with nary a member beholden to union financial support. The seeds of Carlsbad's budget vulnerability were planted during the years of an economic boom that city officials apparently thought would never end.
Councilman Matt Hall, another candidate for mayor, was among those decision makers.
Maybe Carlsbad voters should be less afraid of labor unions and more interested in new leadership.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Rights and teachable moments
By RICHARD RIEHL -- For the North County Times | Posted: March 12, 2010
Two opinion pieces about our constitutional rights appeared in this space recently, each providing a teachable moment.
On Feb. 28, a staff columnist, citing the First Amendment's protection of free speech, justified the right of UC San Diego students to hold an off-campus "Compton Cookout" party mocking Black History Month. He invited those who were offended to hold their own party to make fun of conservative white students.
The Compton Cookout was, indeed, an exercise of free speech, vile as it was for the hurtful racial stereotypes it promoted. The local office of the ACLU, that favorite whipping boy of social conservatives, urged that disciplinary action not be taken against the party's student organizers and praised the university for scheduling a teach-in to counter "offensive speech with more speech."
But suggesting that those offended by the Compton Cookout should hold a party making fun of conservative white students is a good example of what has been so damaging to our political discourse lately. If you're looking for shouting-match sound bites that reinforce political stereotypes, tune in to Glenn Beck or Keith Olbermann any day of the week. You'll find lots of free speech there, but not much in the way of enlightenment about complex issues.
A few days after the free speech column appeared, a local pundit railed against those who challenge the legality of Proposition 8 on the grounds that it violates the Fourteenth Amendment's provision for equal protection under the law. He complained that churches opposed to same-sex marriage are even now being discriminated against for their religious beliefs, a violation of their First Amendment rights.
When it comes to legalizing same-sex marriage, are we forced to choose between the First and Fourteenth Amendments? Are the rights of freedom of religion and equal protection under the law mutually exclusive? I don't think so.
As evidence that churches have already lost their right to religious free expression, the columnist claimed that a Massachusetts Catholic Charities organization had to end its adoption work because the state discriminated against the group for its religious beliefs. But nobody was forced to abandon either their religious beliefs or practices. The adoption agency chose to end its service to the public because it refused to obey the state's anti-discrimination law.
The Catholic Church's right to free religious expression was protected, while same-sex couples retained their right to equal protection under the law. The losers here were children without parents.
During the recent federal court trial in San Francisco, a witness defending Proposition 8 was asked how same-sex marriage threatens traditional marriage.
After a long pause, he replied, "I don't know."
Now, that was a teachable moment.