At Portland
State University,
we voted to authorize a strike this spring if our collective bargaining team
could not reach an agreement with the administration. Nine days before the
strike would have begun, on April 6th, a tentative agreement was
achieved. PSU-AAUP members voted April 15th and 16th on
whether or not to ratify the agreement. The expectation is that the agreement
will be ratified.
PSU has had a collective bargaining chapter since 1978 but
never voted to authorize a strike before.
Why now?
The rot here is no different from that seen across the
nation at countless state universities: spiking student tuition for a student
body least capable of shouldering debt;
drastic decline in state funding over thirty years; gradual and now
unsustainable increases in non-tenure-track and adjunct faculty over the same
thirty years; more top administrators than ever before, more of whom are
“outsiders” bereft of institutional history and relationships.
It doesn’t surprise me that our union decided to stake everything to force some of these issues onto the bargaining table. What surprises me is that the administration looked so baffled and so bewildered when they played and we didn’t dance. What did they think happens when a university’s budget is leveraged on a disposable workforce? Did they expect new levels of trust in, and loyalty towards, the institution?
Why here? That’s a tough question to answer since I imagine
that many universities are on the cusp of the same set of events we’ve just
experienced. Does it ultimately come down to the confluence of individuals
involved? A union President and bargaining team with the courage to force a
crisis, a set of administrators singularly unaware of, and so unprepared for,
the depth of the dysfunction under their noses? An analysis that lights on
individuals in their uniqueness and freedom is not one that a structuralist
like me offers with great confidence but what else?
What now is the more important question. I had moments of
deep frustration with the union leadership over these last months. In
particular, I felt that the narrative they relied upon was one that scapegoated
the two people at the very top – the President and Provost – for a rotten
infrastructure that was many years in the rotting. We – the faculty, those in
union leadership, many members of senate, department chairs and senior
faculty—had been here much longer than had either the president or provost and
my experience as chair of my department had taught me very clearly that we – tenured faculty and chairs—had done as much to create the mess as anybody else. Were we going to be able to fix
things if we weren’t honest about how they’d gotten so messed up in the first
place? Driving two people out of their jobs would not break down the system and
rebuild it along more sustainable and ethical lines.
The reality that we were all going to have to account for
ourselves—not just the President and Provost—sunk in when I attended a forum
held by the union leadership in the final days of bargaining. The most dramatic
testimony that night was given by someone who had been an adjunct at PSU for
thirteen years. He talked about the letters of recommendation he’d written
over the years. Letters of recommendation—like so much else at the university—presume
a stable faculty paid the kind of salary and given the kind of professional
status that allows him or her to do many numbers of things without negotiating
for a “wage” in return.
So PSU hired this person term after term, paid him peanuts,
and relied upon him to write letters of recommendations for a generation of students. Our president
had been here six years and the provost one and a half. They didn’t even know
this adjunct existed. Who did? The chair of the department he taught in. And if
the tenure-track faculty in that department did not know he existed, they
should have. When they asked for a course release to finish their book
projects, did they ask about the adjunct who would be hired to fill their
place? The fact that this person was invisible was not one person’s fault but nor
do I want to invoke the phrase “broken system” here. Real people signed these contracts; real departments relied upon
this labor. It is the fault of both administrators and tenured faculty.
Calling out our own quiet complicity in the deterioration of
the university and the exploitation of adjuncts is not for the faint of heart.
Rebecca Schuman, whom few people would consider faint of heart, was herself
deeply shocked by the vitriol that spewed forth when she suggested in a blog
post that we stop hiring adjuncts. Well-meaning
tenure-track faculty ask her all the time, she wrote, “but what can we do?”
Here’s a thought, she said: Don’t hire someone on wages you wouldn’t accept.
People were not prepared for that answer. We have become far more comfortable
blaming administrators as if they alone run universities. Those of us with
tenure are also responsible for what happens at our universities.
Unions like PSU-AAUP have taken the first step: they woke up
our administration. “I
have heard you, and I'm listening,” President Wiewel told Faculty Senate in
remarks that were then forwarded to the rest of the campus community. “We
should explore strengthening tenure by looking at developing a system that works
for what are now fixed-term faculty,” he said. He did not mention adjuncts. But
we must. It’s up to the tenured faculty to see him on “strengthening tenure”
and raise him one by bringing adjuncts into the picture. If we fail to do this
over the next two years, I hope the same confluence of unique and free
individuals rise to the occasion again when a new contract is bargained.
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