Editor’s note: This op-ed is by Telly Halkias, an award-winning freelance journalist. It originally appeared in the Bennington Banner.
A friend asked me if I was going to write about the contract stalemate between Bennington area teachers and the Southwestern Vermont Supervisory Union. My reply: “Sure, I’ll write that I hope by the time this column goes to press there’s a settlement.”
Pressed to take sides, I explained the underlying assumption that both sides have something to give, but the burden of failure is on the rest of us. As such, far more interesting are the conflict’s underlying human issues, and how they translate into our collective psyches, as well as our wallets.
The dispute between the local teacher’s association and the SVSU boards brewed all summer and into the new school year until overflowing two weeks ago. Its origins go back to 2010 when a similar standoff between the two parties resulted in the school board imposing the current teacher contract when there was no progress toward a mutual agreement. A situation in daily flux, the general parameters of contention are the union’s refusal to increase teachers’ share of health care premium payments, its rejection of a phased increase in daily student contact time, and a demand for cost-of-living-raises, also to be phased in over the life of the new contract.
The best byproduct of the strike is the burial of the myth of small-town civility. This isn’t about mundane events, or times such as the recent Irene debacle, when neighbors looked beyond differences to help even longtime foes. In those departments, we’re second to none in looking out for each other.
Instead, it addresses the bitterness and venom surrounding divisive issues — such as our children’s education and taxpayer dollars.
In such instances, gloves come off and things get far more personal than they would in large urban areas, where such disputes exist but are drowned out by the sheer number of daily issues. Here, because we know each other better, and see each other more, there is no anonymity. So emotions take two forms: Outward hostility and silent resentment.
The former is easy to see at any public forum; the school board, for example, tends to be an open target, whether rightly or wrongly.
It’s no wonder we keep asking whether our best and brightest citizens are on these panels. There are indeed some excellent individuals serving. But others who’ve already served have quit over the grind of a huge volunteer workload, and little public appreciation for their efforts.
Just witnessing a routine school board meeting — let alone this week’s contentious forum — engenders great respect, while also convincing me I’d want no part of it — not with the insults hurled at members. They are willing to put themselves out there, which is more than can be said for the rest of us.
My respect for teachers is no less, having spent most of my adult life complementing day jobs with part-time college instructor gigs, and also tutoring the occasional primary and secondary student. While my experiences are different from those on strike, we share common challenges.
In the last few decades, these include the erosion of discipline and appropriate student behavior, as well as the perception — justified or not — of institutional expectation that puts the burden of accommodation, rather than support of enforcing standards, on a teacher’s shoulders.
This can push even the most dedicated educators to choices of convenience, and no one should fault them for that. It’s something professional pride can’t allow one to speak of. Privately, however, many of my teacher friends have conceded it, noting that sometimes they just do their best with the soup sandwich handed them — but no more.
The final thing is the voters – those who pay into the tax base. After seeing this mess unfold before us, instead of digging deeper trenches into the mud of resentment, perhaps we would all be better served by looking in the mirror and asking the obvious question: “When is the last time a local school budget was voted down?”
We can also look a few miles across the border to tiny Cambridge, N.Y., where earlier this year voters finally had enough and rejected its public school budget before returning a yes on the second try.
In the end, sheep get herded. If we go to the ballot after Town Meeting Day and check the yes box for the school budget because that’s what we’ve done the past 20 years, then everyone — board, teachers, parents, taxpayers and students — gets what they pay for.
And that system always has fat around its edges, never is forced to make hard choices, and rolls along year after year until one side says “there’s no money,” and the other replies “we’re not working.”
These are some of the unspoken matters surrounding the current standoff; I told my friend that’s what I’d write about — without taking sides. And I’m still hoping the teachers and board can reach an agreement before this column runs, so everyone can laugh at my expense.
