I asked Priscilla to write a piece based upon stories she'd told me about unions and her childrens' schools 40 years ago. This is when things started to go bad....this is when Miss Landers left our schools for good.It was spring of 1969. Most of the teachers at my childrens' elementary school had spent days telling the children about going on strike, forming a union and essentially, putting their spin on it. The students didn’t learn much concerning their curriculum during that period of time.
My daughter’s teacher did not engage in this. The reason being he did not agree with it, and did not join the strike. My son’s teacher, however, did. My son, who was eight years old, was clearly worried and upset, although he felt relieved when his teacher told the class she would not leave and go out on strike. He liked her very much.
When he had apprised me of what the class was being told, I went to the school and spoke with his teacher,
telling her I thought it was inappropriate to be using class time on their union agenda and what they wanted to gain from it. That, after all, these were eight year olds, and they shouldn’t have to deal with this sort of thing. She was polite, but, noncommittal.
I decided at that point that I would walk with him to his classroom, instead of dropping him off, just in case. He kept telling me, it was ok because she wasn’t going to walk out.
Sure enough a couple of days later, the teachers were on their picket line outside the school, including his. The principal wanted all the children to go to the auditorium, but I told him I was taking my son home. I wasn’t going to have him warehoused in the auditorium all day, and the principal agreed that since I was there it was fine to take him home. As if he could stop me.
When we got in the car, my boy began to cry, looked at me, befuddled and said,
“mommy, she lied to us”. I said “I know, and that was wrong”. I hugged him and we went home. I was hopping mad, and two days later I was on the sidewalk with other parents demonstrating against the teachers and the union. I had taken my son to a friend’s house because I didn’t want him exposed to this activity.
His teacher nastily yelled at me, “well Mrs. Pris, you’ve come a long way”, and I walked across the street with my sign in hand and told her,
“I didn’t lie to my son, you did”. Another parent, a friend, had followed me and walked with me over there with the teachers while they told us they had a right to strike, as we told them this was hurting the children, and that public employees did not have a right to strike.
We walked back across the street.
The teachers yelled and called us “scabs“, “go home”“get out of here,” “you’re ignorant”, There was some foul language as well which I will omit. A couple of Moms yelled back, “go back to your classes”, but for the most part we ignored their insults. Many of us mothers were on the executive board of the PTA, including me, and had worked with these teachers, helped them out, raised thousands of dollars to buy equipment for their classrooms and playground, and generally got along great. We gave them a faculty luncheon every year to show our appreciation.
When the school secretary arrived in her car and tried to pull into the driveway the teachers pounded on her car, yelling at her, tried to stop her from pulling in, and behaved like hooligans.
The office secretary was a lovely woman who worked for the principal, and was not obliged to go on strike, but, they didn’t care. Children were lined up on the other side of the fence, watching all this. The principal was cowering in his office, instead of keeping the children away from this chaos.
He called me into his office to ask me to please convince the parents outside to go home, and told me, “you wouldn’t want to be called scabs would you?” I told him they could call me whatever they want, I wasn’t leaving and neither were the rest.He ended up handing me the union contract to take home and read. I didn’t ask for that, and was surprised. Yes, he was a stupid man.
I returned it the next day after reading it until two in the morning.
Among other things, included in the contract was a demand that they have more say regarding the curriculum. I explained that we voted for a school board to do that.When the strike was over, my son had missed a month of school. They wanted us to send our children to school during summer vacation. I refused. So did others. The atmosphere at the school was never the same as it had been before. No more the friendly occasional chats between those teachers and PTA moms. We were treated pretty badly.
When the time came to plan the faculty luncheon we were informed by the representative teacher they would tell us what they wanted to eat. The luncheon was a pot luck provided by the parents. I told this teacher we weren’t taking orders and would do what we always did.
None of them ever volunteered to help out with the fundraising activities again. The school was now totally politicized. They tried to begin their own parent’s group, to edge out the PTA. They ended up with a parent’s advisory board, but the same women who were active in PTA, were on that.
The union was responsible for ridding the school of the dress code, which many of us opposed them in doing, and tried to stop, but it was out of our hands. The flag at the next evening program at school was no longer on the stage where it had always been. My husband gave the principal an earful and the flag was put back after that and not removed again.
All in all it was a sad situation.
The union has become more and more powerful, and parents have had less and less influence, until today I feel parents aren’t really that welcome on school grounds, but tolerated.In recent years, I picked up my grandson at school every day. The place was practically devoid of most teachers five minutes after the final bell rang. The curriculum is developed and put into practice as if parental concerns don’t matter. There is no continuity between school and home. Parental authority is undermined even challenged, and sadly, many parents have abrogated their responsibility in many ways too.
I have to say, I lost a lot of respect for teachers as a group and judged on a more individual basis taking nothing for granted.I still maintain that the children are not sent to school to provide jobs for teachers and administrators; they are sent to school for those people to provide an education for the children. The politics involved in all this leave the children as merely pawns in an ugly and political game that is more about power than education.
Z: And, of course, I know Pris would agree that it's also become more "indoctrination than education". That seems to be the 'education' of our days. And you can see how it started.....imagine teachers having children see THEM in civil disobedience? Or, put a technical legal term aside, maybe it isn't that at all, maybe it's just plain forgetting about manners and how children should look up to their teachers, not see them acting like children? In the Leave it to Beaver days, a bit before my school days but not much, children looked up to their teachers and teachers relied on the parents for input and help.Thanks, Priscilla...good insight, a true tale of how we missed the boat. Frankly, I'd take everything about life on LEAVE IT TO BEAVER over ROSEANNE any day of the week. In about every way. But, sadly....so many Americans took the slob's route of least resistance. Easier to scratch your *** than put gloves on and look presentable. Easier to let the kids just get by than really take an interest. I'm generalizing, but.........z
