An earlier version of this
essay appeared in City Journal
Online.
Sometimes the local government staff I have the great pleasure of
working with say the darndest things.
Prior to giving a speech on civic participation for a group of city and
county employees just north of San Francisco, I chatted with a county volunteer
coordinator about her job. "It sounds like fascinating work," I offered, "you
must interact with a lot of different people on a variety of projects."
She responded affirmatively, "but," as she demurred to a near whisper,
"you have to be real careful that when you bring in a volunteer to help on
certain jobs, that you don’t take work from unionized employees." She explained
her formula for placing volunteers in needed assignments had to prefigure the
type of work and time commitment. "I usually have no problem [with the unions]
bringing someone in for a couple hours each week," she allowed, "but I’m
pushing it if it moves beyond five hours – even if the volunteer is willing to
take longer hours." She concluded by
saying, "and, of course, you’ve heard what’s happening in Petaluma with the
school district?"
Well, of course, I hadn’t.
Petaluma is one of the several idyllic small cities (pop. 58,000)
that dot Route 101 on the way north from the Golden Gate Bridge through the
Wine Country. Serving as the setting for over a dozen movies from American Graffiti to Pleasantville, most have seen the town
without realizing it. Like most
municipalities in the state, though, the current fiscal crisis has made
delivering public services – from education to public safety – anything but
pleasant.
The Petaluma City Schools district has trimmed millions from its
budget over the last two years, as the deficit-ridden State Government has
decreased its local support by 25 percent. The cuts have meant laying off district
employees at all levels – from teachers to playground supervisors. In response,
parents and concerned Petalumans have stepped forward to try to fill these
gaps, volunteering their time to maintain school services. But since the
non-teaching positions are unionized by the California
School Employees’ Association (CSEA),
this, of course, is when the problems started.
As reported by the Santa Rosa Press-Democrat, when volunteers began to help answer
phones in the office, and support the school librarian at Petaluma Junior High
School, CSEA President, Loretta Kruusmagi decided enough was enough. To read
the quotations triangulated between the parent volunteers, school district, and
union, is to gain insight into a public sector union’s fundamental incapability
to respond to the "new normal" in local governments where, as New York’s Deputy
Mayor Stephen Goldsmith has described, "The steady increase in the quantity and cost of
public services, coupled with the needs of an aging population and public
pension costs have produced a long term, structural deficit." The clash in
Petaluma also highlights the natural impediments public sector unions can
become when citizens attempt to sacrifice their time to support the delivery of
public services when budgets are ravaged.
Representing
350 clerical and janitorial staff in the Petaluma school district, Kruusmagi
does not betray the least concern for the "kids" as she glowers, "Noon-duty people
– those are instructional assistants. We had all those positions. We don’t have
them anymore, but those are our positions. Our stand is you can’t have
volunteers, they can’t do our work." The possessive tone taken by Kruusmagi
composes a new understanding of "public servant".
Caught between
the volunteers and the union, district leadership is forced into an Orwellian
role as referee – seeking to pacify the CSEA and parents, while important
positions that could be taken by local residents remain unfilled because of the
budget cuts. Deputy Superintendent Steve Bolman is left to quote from the union
contract and labor law: "It’s not policy, this is law. [Volunteers] can’t do
work ‘usually, ordinarily or regularly done by classified employees.’" For her part, Kruusmagi, sounds a little
sketchier on the legalities: "I can’t cite the exact thing, but there are state
rules. I believe it’s in (education) code that volunteers are not allowed at
schools."
The volunteers are
rightly furious. Cathy Edmondson, the parent of a Petaluma Junior High student,
and a volunteer who helps around the school office, retorted, "I guess the
anger that I feel about it is even though the union has contractual rights to
what goes on, they don’t have the right to abridge my rights as a parent,
volunteer and taxpayer." Indeed. Lynn King, another parent, and manager of the
volunteer program has a slightly more diplomatic take: "Schools are losing
personnel because of budgetary cutbacks, kids are being underserved by these
budgetary cutbacks, so we are trying to do what we can."
The parties in
Petaluma seem to indicate that some sort of agreement can be reached that will
actually allow continued civic participation, but when Kruusmagi is quoted as
saying flatly, "They are not going to have volunteers at all," one wonders.
Since the
nation’s Founding, the work of volunteers in providing and supporting local
services has been a hallmark of what it means to be an American citizen,
described most famously, by the French visitor, Alexis de Tocqueville: "In
America I encountered all sorts of associations of which, I confess, I had no
idea, and I often admired the infinite art with which the inhabitants of the
United States managed to fix a common goal to the efforts of many men and to
get them to advance to it freely
(emphasis mine)." Obviously Monsieur
Tocqueville never met Ms. Kruusmagi.
Tocqueville’s
commentary on America’s civic participation was based on both our natural
habits and contextual necessity: there simply weren’t governing structures to
deliver many needed public services back in the 1830s, so Americans had to
"fall back upon themselves." As local government budgets creak under the weight
of the "new normal", we are beginning to see this "[falling] back" happening again
throughout the country. For public sector union leaders the question will be:
are you part of the solution, or part of the problem?
Pete Peterson is
Executive Director of the Davenport
Institute for Public Engagement and Civic Leadership at the Pepperdine School
of Public Policy.