Elisa Campbell
Here we go again. During the first days in July, about 60 people at the University received their formal layoff notices. I know at least five of these people. I expect to learn of more that I know, as word spreads about who was cut. At a barbecue I attended July 4th, people connected to the University were cautiously being asked, "how are you?" None of us at the picnic turned out to have lost our jobs, but we all knew people who had, and several of us answered with the equivalent of "OK, so far." Because the cuts aren't over. As I write this column, there are plans to eliminate over 50 more positions, but only the decision-makers know where they are.
It could get worse. The Governor vetoed funds for two programs the University desperately needs. Commonwealth College is the honors program for its best students, and the University is determined to keep it. In its version of the budget, the legislature had also created an early-retirement program to give long-time state employees a graceful way out. As with the layoffs, I know several people who were counting on taking that option. Now it may not be there. That's not only a blow to their own plans; it also means the University can't count on the savings it was expecting from those retirements. The University will have to cut another $4 million if the legislature doesn't override both those vetoes.
In the meantime, people are coping in their own ways. One friend had been warned to expect it; others were surprised, but then thought back and saw the signs they hadn't noticed or had seen in a more optimistic light before. It's a lot like the end of a love affair: now you know why that person was behaving strangely, or gave an explanation that made no sense at the time. Since it's July, many people had vacations already planned and aren't around; this will complicate people's efforts to find out about acquaintances who work in other places on campus. We'd like to know. In my experience, workers at UMass care about each other. The lack of information contributes to questions and rumors, which make the stress worse.
Rumors at times like this are par for the course, according to articles I found by Googling "survivor guilt layoffs." Every study emphasizes constant communication with workers as the only cure for "worst case scenarios." What has been cut? What are the plans for moving forward? How will the campus serve its students without those programs?
The experts also say it's essential that cuts be perceived as fair. At the end of June, all the campus unions sent a letter to the Chancellor in which they stated: "we believe that the pain must be shared at all levels of the University, and that those who control the purse strings must take their fair share of cuts." The unions offered several specific suggestions, including "Before any departmental layoffs are considered, significant trimming at the upper administrative levels should occur first." They specifically included the President's Office. People who read my column last month, criticizing paying Amherst's new school superintendent $130,000 while we lay off teachers, can imagine that I agree with my union's stand on this issue.
Another thing the articles agree on is that reductions have to be part of a plan for a more successful future. It's really hard for me to see how that's even possible. This is the second round of severe budget cuts in two years, with several smaller ones in between. Next year there are almost certain to be more. While the strategy is to make cuts that do the least damage to the "core missions" of the University, teaching and research, from my perspective we've already passed that point. Just one example: the office that helped graduate students and faculty use computer programs to do statistical analysis of data is being eliminated. Who is going to help future students avoid bad research design and misinterpreting research data?
A year and a half ago, when UMass suffered 95 layoffs and departments were attempting to plan for hundreds of people leaving at once due to early retirements, I expressed the fear that essential services to students and faculty could disappear in the chaos of each unit trying to cut its own commitments and no one overseeing the big picture. Recent events have not reduced that fear.
The only source of joy on campus this summer is the planter boxes, bursting with foliage and bloom after that rainy late spring. Sometimes it really does seem that all we can do is tend our own gardens.