|
The Beginnings of Las Positas College: One View
Submitted by Esther Goldberg
Las Positas College
Facility
Original Sin
"The Valley" was set up in the spring of 1975, despite the fact that
the much-hoped-for Bond issue had not passed. The District had
purchased the land some time before and now it allocated for
building $8,000.000; some Chabot staff objected that it had come
directly our of their children's mouths. The facility was four
buildings, the minimum amount possible to create a facility and the
maximum possible from funds Reed had squirreled away. Barbara Mertes
lured some faculty, hired some new faculty and the place opened in
the spring of 1975 under her leadership. The plan was for an "open
campus" with faculty available all day every day in an open setting
with no barriers to students.
Most faculty hated the plans. Almost from the beginning, they wanted
offices, phones, designated parking, food and warm bathrooms. They
were willing to wait the many years before those niceties appeared,
but the Dan'l Boones and the Davy Crocketts did not want to live in
log cabins forever.
Most faculty initially had desks in Bldg. 100. A kind of rumpus room
without ping pong.. The smart ones early staked out the better desk
locations, but one of the less-sophisticated ended up at the
doorway. Dee brought that poor misbegotten soul her own desk sign:
"Miss Information," which she gave out aplenty. Snapping fingers,
"Miss?, Miss?, Miss?," "Why don't you answer my question before I
ask it and immediately?," "Where is the bathroom?," were constant
refrains.
Out on the frontier was one thing, but the passage of Prop 13 put
grease on the rails and ol' Paint began skidding down hill..
Somehow, the facility remained open. Some classes were initially
small but faculty compensated with multiple preps in multiple
disciplines, long hours, extra paperwork and fatigue..
The need for space caused a lotta pain. One faculty person who
taught 15 preps per year in three disciplines asked for storage and
was told to take her materials home. But that was the point,
references and support materials were needed on campus. Lack of
security (for exams in process, grades, student conferences,
exhibits), lack of space to prepare materials, and equipment to type
our own exams (no staff) was also a serious problem. (Serious course
preparation had to be done at home at night.) In a staff meeting,
Esther asked for a person to answer the phones in Bldg 700 (for
about 25 faculty), and was refused. Then she requested another
handset phone (there were only two) and was refused. Phones rang
constantly and, as people developed selective deafness, they went
unanswered and rang and rang and rang. Then, one person who spent
zero time at a desk decided that the peasants needed to have "good"
music to listen to while slaving away. His face was very puzzled
when he discovered that the radio was mysteriously turned off each
time he left behind his "gift."
Even the request for a typewriter was rejected. The crowding was so
intense that it was impossible for each faculty person to have a
personal typewriter. We thought ourselves lucky to have four-drawer
filing cabinets, a cut above the Chabot faculty who only had two
drawers! But because even this space was inadequate, shelves for our
desks appeared. Because that was inadequate, things got stacked on
top of things. Faculty person X's pile of exams from the top of the
filing cabinet, reused each semester, suddenly was cut in half -
somebody swiped a bunch. It didn't make any difference in grades,
though. Curving does miracles.
One benefit Valley faculty had was access to a copier; many an exam
was taped together with magic tape - has to be done very carefully
or the lines show. Chabot faculty did not have equal access - chalk
one up for the valley guys! (out of their children's mouths…)
Faculty and Staff
Esther was invited to move her desk to Building 700, where about 20
faculty were crammed. It was a thrill to be asked to join a real
sorority. The facility there was just as inadequate as in Building
100, except there was not as much smoking. Quarters were so cramped
that a person getting out of a desk sometimes ran over the toes of
somebody who was working next door. She took the back corner,
stacked up her stuff and, knowing she was either at the top or the
bottom of some list, tried to be inconspicuous. That wasn't possible
as she was viewed with suspicion. As a climate of hostility grew,
(rats do terrible things to each other when they are crowded) Esther
was sawing her wood and looked up to see Faculty Person G coming
around her standing screen with a face that said, "I am here to spy
on you." Her face said, "I know what you are up to." Pop! The face
vanished.
Faculty Person G usually carried a unique sweetish personal
atmosphere on campus, bragged about snorting cocaine and an
unparalleled ability to charm policemen out of issuing tickets when
pulled over drunk. Increasingly hostile and aggressive, students
pried their leader out of bars in the wee hours. A maturing process,
no doubt. One parent bearded a fellow faculty person at every
holiday occasion and wanted to know, "Does the administration know
what is going on?"
The answer was "yes." Faculty person G bragged of friends in high
places whose names were dredged up in confrontations. One Monday
morning G appeared after having been rolled, still enjoying the
latent effects of some medicinal powders inhaled over the weekend,
All that was left to wear was an old beat up pair of cowboy boots
with holes in the soles and raggedy clothes. The hat would have
looked well on a derelict. Loudly repeating, "I am just a plain
person," as well as how much mama had adored her child. The nicest,
least controversial faculty person warned that such behavior was
"cuckoo."
Screaming at students, trying to intimidate them, and then promising
them an A if they never again darkened the classroom door became
standard practice. Finally, the behavior became too dangerous and a
wonderful manager took the responsibility to relieve the faculty of
this person, despite threats of a lawsuit on the grounds of sexual
harassment. When one person attempted to report repeated misbehavior
to a seriously important manager, the response was, "Don't criticize
Faculty Person G to me." because they were friends. The shouting was
frequently aimed at Innocent Esther, followed by a limp apology and
an explanation that menopause could explain intemperateness.
She refused to accept the apology and drew another belligerent,
brutal personal attack, especially when she characterized the
behavior as near-violent and frightening
Before G was forced off the faculty, there was a good deal of
bragging about sexual conquests. Having struck up a relationship
with a high-echelon individual of the newly designated college, the
bragging was that the person in question had been sad when their
evening had begun, but smiling when morning came. Everybody on
campus soon heard where G‘s car had been parked the night before...
Usually it was difficult to get somebody to run for the senate, but
Esther's tenure threw a frenzy into the ranks of a special group.
Two months after her first election to a one-year term, an old-timey
faculty person tried to engineer another election, claiming that he
didn't know when the next election was due. Reminds you of James
Garner's description of the vice presidency as not worth a bucket of
warm spit, a fairly accurate description of the way many viewed the
power of a single senator. The anxiety that her position created was
puzzling until her intuition clicked on. The position did carry with
it access to Faculty Senate minutes which went to everybody on both
campuses.
Our belligerent hero, G, decided to serve on the District Senate
when Esther was on sabbatical. Of course, the election was
uncontested. Other senators quickly tired of G's full-throated,
incoherent positions and empty rhetoric. Mostly, the Senate was very
informal, but the new senator stood erect as a Marine, eloquent,
bellowing orations full-throat, wasting great wads of time. On the
occasions when the wig was on straight, "resplendent" is the only
adequate description, but that was a sometime thing.
Blaming Joan for betrayal when Esther won the next election, term
limits were bandied about, but that would leave her in place too
long. So intimidation was the next tactic against Joan (innocent as
the new dawn), for betraying a life-long dream, the quest for High
Office. She was accosted with, "You're a fine woman!" She responded
with, "Exactly what do you mean?" The perp repeated, "You're a fine
woman." She said, "Let's step outside and discuss this." She did NOT
- although it was widely reported that she did - place a swift kick
where it would do the most good. But the bravado disappeared almost
immediately in a sea of self-pity.
Structure
After the first couple of free-floating years, faculty person O (who
eventually became an Incredibly Important Person) and Administrator
N collaborated on a committee structure that was lovingly called (by
faculty) the Three Martini Lunch Work Product. The names of the
committees/task forces were abstract and confusing, such as :
Business Industry Network (function?) or other monikers too bizarre
to remember. In fact, as of this writing, nobody asked has been able
to recall the name of a single other task force. Faculty Person O
was heard to say that the task force structure had to be good
because the faculty hated it so much, no doubt intensified by the
entrophe (sic) O introduced in an academic paper. The task forces
were supposed to meet whether they had business or not; anything
done by one task force had to be repeated by each and every other. G
immediately figured out it was a sham and simply ignored the
meetings, but the Girl and Boy Scouts plugged on, at least those
whose children had no soccer games and couldn't get special
dispensations to escape.
After some time a semblance of a curriculum committee was put in
place, but its actions were not accountable because organized
academic disciplines did not exist to feed suggestions to it
("democracy.") Its very pliant chair remained in place until
elevated to head the Faculty Association, when he became potentially
an important figure in the transformation of what was then called
"Valley Campus" into a second college. As a f'rinstance, the
curriculum committee decided to cut Political Science 7 to a
three-hour course (without notifying the faculty teaching it or
anybody who taught social sciences.) UC Berkeley was already
complaining that it was impossible to complete the required material
in the four units then assigned. A little bird saw to it that word
got around (little birds do wonderful things) however, and the
masked offender arrived unannounced at the next meeting, cited the
reasons the course needed to retain its four-unit value and won the
day, with the perps staring straight ahead and/or inspecting their
fingernails. The strange thing is, there was no opposition to the
objections, just silence.
The general faculty meetings (lovingly called "show and tell
sessions") were often clocked at two hours as faculty was
entertained with such vital information as details of student
registration cards. The endless time for the meetings resulted in
the invention of a "torture quotient" that mathematicized the amount
of pain involved and assigned scores for the destruction of good
will and enthusiastic creativity. But they were often a good time to
grade papers.
The first library initially housed the break "room" (actually a
corner and vending machines). Bldg. 100 hada sorta private
conference room with a window in the door. It was decided that the
"lead faculty" would design the Tech-Voc program, but even the most
devoted followers stormed around and announced they "wouldn't do
it." Knowing that a maximum of negative steam merely meant they
would each extract some personal favor in return for doing the job,
(smile at the birdie) Esther suggested a meeting to establish a
group position. Some wanted to go into the HPMR (Holy Private
Meeting Room)) with the window that would exhibit the ill-considered
resistance, but she who knew the traps insisted on hiding in plain
sight. Theory was, with nothing to hide, nobody would have any
reason to retaliate. Theories often don't work. Suspicion was a way
of life, which became clear as various observers passed past the
passel of political petulants numerous times, reading lips and body
language to elicit and diagnose the danger of this deviation from
proper Orwellian behavior by the Great Unwashed. The incident blew
over after a beautifully crafted letter was sent, saying something
like, "Hell, no. Won't go." Although she was not the instigator of
the rebellion, the suggester of openness was blamed for it.
Political Correctness
Jack Healy and Art Deleray wanted a phone in the science laboratory,
but were told that it was out of the question because it would cost
thousands of dollars. Whether they were interested in student safety
or another telephone on campus (were only six handsets available?)
is probably irrelevant. Art crawled up in the overhang and found
that the connections were already there and the total cost was the
line and the handset.
Similar problems surrounded the parking question; it was as
politically incorrect to have separate parking for staff as to have
telephone availability or offices, as everything was supposed to be
equal between students and faculty. Besides, an empty staff parking
lot on Friday afternoon would signal how lazy we were. Hell, we all
knew that. One administrator regularly announced to us that we were
all "feeding at the public trough" while leaning against a building
and smoking. This person had a remarkably clean desk, but would put
down the phone when somebody knocked.
But as the number of students grew, parking was inadequate at peak
hours. Faculty sometimes had assignments at other locations, or
otherwise could not or would not heed the advice to get there early,
real early; after all, they were already staying late for those
marvelous meetings and "other activities as assigned." When Carol
Clough and Art Deleray could not find parking; both nosed into
illegal spots and were ticketed. Art consulted the Magna Carta, the
Dalai Lama and the Declaration of Independence and argued their
losing case in court. On the other hand, the judge did suggest that
management could be nice to the staff. Finally, an area was blocked
off for staff parking, after a long enough interim so that nobody
could suspect anybody of being soft on staff. That the most
consistent toady had a bad heart was probably responsible for this
staff victory. One faculty person was tasked with parking in the
student lot, to which she is supposed to have replied, "Fitz the
students," or something like that. She insists she didn't do it
The Light of Heart
LPC faculty. staff and students enthusiastically partied, throwing
themselves into anything frivolous, irresponsible and fun. Halloween
featured a parade around the Quad, with memorable fashions sometimes
belly-laughing tears to the eyes of spectators. Ellen Owen came
resplendent in a brilliant purple uh, well, uh, palm reader's
outfit. In a real head-turner, she dyed her hair brilliant black for
the occasion. (This particular parade was on the day a political
science class had a guest speaker who clearly expected a more docile
crew.) Joan Long came as Juan Valdez, the coffee bean grower from
Central America. She wore full makeup, sandals, serape, straw hat.
Even her best friend did not know her. The counseling staff all came
as characters in Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz one year, and topped
that the next year when all dressed as Charlie Chaplin.
Students got "into it." Two young men came well turned out as a
dominator and .... friend, the consensus winners of all time...The
Dominator waxed his hair into a Mohawk, skinning down his sidewalls,
wore spikes round his wrists, waist and legs. His leather jacket
added class with its deep fringe. But the eye catcher, the
bonebreaker, the amazing partner fella wore white chiffon, high
heels and a blonde wig, complete with chest hair - spectacular. All
perfectly straight-faced, no simpering, no grimacing; and no sexual
overtones.
Nobody ever thought to give prizes; being in the wingding was its
own and only reward. One faculty person came as a rhinestone cowgirl
dressed in excellent taste in cowboy hat, boots, jeans skirt, and
lavish "di'monds." A putative college president arrived to visit in
the midst of one Parade and was impressed. As soon as anybody
attempted to codify, formalize or organize these or other
spontaneous eruptions of creative juices, they were no longer fun
and died on the vine.
Female staff organized an annual very special event, the Crystal
Day. They raked out old sets of crystal necklaces, rings, bracelets,
and/or ear rings and piled them on in incredible combinations until
they risked carpal tunnel syndrome in neck, ankle or wrist. The more
the merrier. Clanking around like Sparkle Plenty was a surprise to
visitors and students alike. Why crystal? Why not?
The Mellerdrammer grew like Topsy from misty beginnings. Perhaps a
rational story line tied it together, but you couldn't prove it. The
audience had to work hard to fathom what it was all about.
Nevertheless, the audience engaged in full-throated demonstrations
of adoration for the heroes and disdain for the villains, followed
by raucous applause for the good guys. Shouting, hissing, booing
adding to the dignity of the occasion.. Jim Forcier was a giant St.
Bernard in a pert brown and white furry (that means it was, at best,
dacron) ensemble; he stole whole acts with his dainty drooling and
plentiful panting.
Margaret Emery played the ingénue in a demure turn-of -the-century
costume that only she could have worn. Ellen was a sad-eyed cleaning
lady wandering at random across the stage with her floor mop. Dudley
Do-Right (Gary Svihula) and Margaret made a perfect couple whose
love triumphed over all in the end. Carol Clough, Ellen and a cast
of thousands were behind-the-scenes producers of this lovely event.
Often afterward it was proposed to produce another stage event, but
perfection could not be improved upon and the suave images remain
indelibly etched on the eyeballs of all who attended or
participated. Money was made for a worthy charity. Was it given to
keep the event from being repeated?
Some riveting stage productions were advertised in front of the
library building on a sandwich board boasting the name of the play
in smaller type than the producer's. Another drama director managed
to turn left-booted near-psychotic students into gifted thespians,
in a true miracle, really making. lemonade out of lemons.
Our Dear Leader and faculty put on various readers' theatres
commemorating the Cowboy, Norman Rockwell, an illustrator also known
as a Great Artist, as well as other creative productions. One
faculty person who once was in a production only escaped by pleading
great emotional upset when on stage. In one of these productions,
staged at Chabot, the music was not notated but noted with asterisks
and stars; the singer and musicians hadda invent what a "sparkle" or
a "starburst" of sound meant. The singer grasped it - get out of
Dodge, fast. The husband of one performer "had to" attend each time
the play was staged not out of admiration for the production, but to
protect her against expected flying fruit. In remembering other
productions at the Valley Campus, the mind's eye glassyfies at the
memory of short and fat Faculty Person X and long and not-so-lean
Faculty Person G reading their lines in rented tuxedoes that might
have fit better had they exchanged them. But that probably wouldn't
have helped, because the short man's pants were much too long, and
the tall man's pants were, too. Extreme tightness around their
middles made them look as if they were wearing potato sacks snugged
up with rope. But the voices were sonorous, serious and stentorian.
All the details of these performances were well publicized at the
time, and even went on the road to another college.
FOOD and its consequences
Lindel Bruce organized a series of volunteer lunches. The sum and
substance of the entire eating facility was a vending machine which
did not always keep cold food cold enough or hot food hot enough.
Occasional stomach miseries resulted in removal of all items with
any nutritional value. Busy day? Lunch was M&Ms and dinner a Clark's
bar.
Probably because food was randomly stored in inadequate containers,
we had a plague, not of locusts, but of voles (i.e., mice). They
rivaled lemmings in their numbers, specializing in Shakespearian
death scenes during classes. It was hard to compete with mouse
histrionics in lecture. It was doggoned unpleasant to take out a
source book and find it stained with mouse stuff, electrifying to
sit down at a typewriter (bootlegged for the faculty by Carol Clough
- it must have weighed 50 pounds, it was so old) and witness five
mice pour out when the electricity was turned on. The faculty person
uttered a loud exclamation. Only one person reported being bitten.
One mouse ran inside a faculty person's boot. Fun.
Most faculty hated to have the college use poison because of Ralph
the black and white cat. Ralph set up his domicile in Bldg. 700
where about half the faculty had desks. .Ralph's kingdom was usually
on Jim Landry's lap, petting was licensed for approved admirers
every third Thursday from 11:00 to 11:01. Dee was also favored with
adoration time, but probably not quite as much. Ralph was semi-wild
and administered sharp punishment at every infraction of his rules,
whatever those were. Those rules often were punctuated with
punctures when Ralph's annoyance factor was engaged. The mouse
poison got Ralph in the end. Eventually the mice decided it was time
to end their 17-year cycle and just disappeared.
After the faculty succeeded in getting offices, Judy's office
acquired its own resident mouse. Unable to trap it, she brought in
some poison which the mouse stole, opened (cut along the little
dotted line), and ate. It then died somewhere behind her two million
books (all of which Judy had read.) Its remains smelled to high
heaven and despite Judy's and maintenance staff's best efforts, its
little corpse was not found until she retired and emptied out the
other one million nine hundred thousand, nine hundred and
ninety-nine books.
The number and quality of restrooms, especially for the distaff
side, was never sufficient. One restroom was damned cold because
there was no heat. Compensation was a cot in case one should need a
rest (the relevance escapes). When a student center was designed, it
had no restroom despite the intent to serve food. Faculty person M
went to the Board of Trustees and was successful in getting
restrooms installed. Even after the Library was built and new
restrooms were added, they were few and far between. Students
decided to use the staff room, supported by those who believed in
democracy, but faculty objected to lining up cross-legged in their
few minutes between classes. When the women's restroom was filthied,
the staff argument became much stronger, and a paper sign was added
to the door, designating this as a Staff Restroom. The sign was
regularly removed. Few respected it..
Buildings
A multipurpose room was built, mostly a facility for the physical
education faculty and larger meetings. The p.e. faculty had a
special cross to bear in the good ol‘ days when all p.e. classes
were outside. It is wonderful to admire the spirit of outdoors,
vigor and physical fitness, but it is not so nice to have to teach
classes in the wind, rain and mud with no shelter. One faculty
person came in with hair poured over his eyes, drenched clothes and
shoes and said, "Time really flies when you're having fun." He left
the District.
As with all public entities, building was controversial. Temporaries
came to house a student center (called Vesuvius because the used
cigarette smoke poured out whenever the door was opened.) Sophie
started a tennis team. Then she started her fencing program,
decorated around the edges with marathoning. Somehow she kept all
the oranges in the air. Gradually the Boys added Frisbee (national
champions, yet!) and soccer to the program. First a weight room,
then the new enormous physical education facility was added; it can
be converted into an auditorium. It's cute that it was designed with
an internal track at the second floor for runners.
Temporary buildings were added as classrooms and were converted to
offices when more classroom space became available. The offices were
built like lavatory cubicles, walls were 18 inches from the ceiling.
Dark and gloomy, nevertheless an office was an office if it was
lockable and could hold the faculty person and materials. It was
here that confidential conferences were hatched to make Valley a
separate college and select the only possible person for president.
The attendees failed to take security into account and were unaware
of the information they were evanescing into the ether.
The library was added and attached to it were real, ipsy-pipsy
faculty offices, with doors, bookshelves, locks and windows. It was
a dream for so many who had camped out for so long. Here, Linda
Lucas was able to ride herd and set up a proper facility for
students and faculty. She was extraordinarily tenacious and
determined, characteristics that often served the college well.
Workrooms, a computer facility, book stacks, and offices; moving in
was Christmas morning.
Building the science facility was a rougher go for faculty.
Biological and physical sciences were both included and most faculty
had highly specialized and individualized needs. Numerous nightmares
were the result. The poobahs had decided that the science faculty
would have their offices in the new building, but one office could
have doubled for a small broom closet and the question of personal
security, as faculty were isolated and scattered, was a significant
factor. Cabinets were installed for the microscopes, but were too
small. The designers seemed unaware of the specialized needs for
non-grade school science courses. Underground advice from a
specialist helped, but the science faculty was forced to spend an
inordinate number of hours preventing mistakes and correcting those
already made. It took more than a whole summer. A lotta donated
hours.
Return to Table of Contents
|
