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The State House parking garage was full an hour before the hearing. So were the hallways and the Atrium and the Rotunda. A sea of blue-shirted firefighters and SEIU members, green AFSCME shirts and signs, and teachers wearing their red OEA buttons filled the Statehouse for the first hearing on SB 5, a bill designed to carry out Republican Governor Kasich’s campaign pledge—or threat-- to “break the back of organized labor in the schools” and other public institutions. There were too many public employees to count, but one Columbus news channel called it “thousands” of people. They were out in a show of force, not ready to have their backs broken, or their collective bargaining rights taken away, as the bill proposed to do.

Coming off last week’s TV pictures of thousands in the streets of Egyptian cities, comparisons with the uprising in that ancient country were inevitable, and not lost on the crowd at the Statehouse. The Governor was referred to as “the Pharaoh” by several in attendance, and one retired teacher from Circleville called him “Mukasich,” an obvious reference to the recently ousted Egyptian dictator, Mubarak. Some, in high good humor and mischief, debated whether his name was spelled “Kasick” or “Kasuck.” There hadn’t been this many upset teachers at the statehouse since before the collective bargaining bill of 1983 was signed into law. Ironically, this right-wing Republican idea of attacking public employees, their unions and their benefits, was taking us back to the years before they had such rights on paper, when they had to raise Cain in order to be heard.

Witnesses for the proposed ban on public employee bargaining couched their concerns in terms of saving money for the taxpayers, and surprisingly, not always endorsing the ban, as one said, “We believe in the collective bargaining process, but it has to take place recognizing that there’s only so much money available for us to pay.” Of course, that’s a main reason a prior General Assembly and Governor created the collective bargaining law, to create an orderly process in which both sides could be heard and procedures could be provided for helping them reach agreement. Ohio’s first teacher demonstrations and strikes came, in fact, not over money, but over the very right to be heard. Teachers spent at least four years studying, and paying, for a college education, but when they entered the teaching force, they found they could barely feed their families. When they raised their voices to question the school administration, they were told, at least in some cases, “Shut up and sit down.” Teachers were professionals, many with master’s degrees and years of experience, yet were treated like servants or worse.

In 1968, following teacher strikes in New York and several places in Ohio, Columbus teachers wanted the right to negotiate with the school board over salaries, benefits, and some ideas they had for improving the schools. Facing adamant refusal by the school board, 4000 Columbus teachers headed to the Ohio Fairgrounds one Monday morning for a 6:00 A.M. meeting. Traffic backed up for miles on Interstate 71, as teachers drove to the meeting. The community held it’s breath as worried parents, hopeful kids, and an entire city wondered what would happen. A strike was averted then, and good faith negotiations were commenced a few weeks later—after a few more demonstrations at the Fairgrounds and elsewhere. In 1975, a strike could not be avoided, and teachers were out for a week in an effort to get the attention of the powers that be. The state law at that time gave the school board the power to fire all the striking teachers, but where would you find several thousand qualified teachers to replace them overnight? Furthermore, the school board had to prove that each teacher it fired was actually on strike and not sick or absent for other valid reasons. The law, in short, didn’t work, and so was rarely invoked.

In 1981, thousands of teachers from all over Ohio filled the Statehouse lawn in a demonstration called “The Schools Are Seeing Red!” The reference was not so much to their being irate, as at the State’s chronic underfunding of the public schools. Republican Governor Rhodes, a friend to vocational education, had nevertheless engineered a series of tax cuts for business that, along with serious inflation, had decimated the treasuries of most school districts and the pocketbooks of the employees. And, without a collective bargaining law, teachers, especially in smaller districts, had no effective way to communicate with their school boards about what they needed in their classrooms or how the economy was affecting them. Politically, upset teachers, parents, and other school supporters, led the effort to change parties in the Governor’s office, as Democrat Dick Celeste won handily in 1982. Building on “temporary” tax increases started in desperation by Rhodes, Governor Celeste increased taxes and signed a collective bargaining law designed to give public employees an appropriate voice and the recognition most folks back then thought they should have. The new law also provided mechanisms for employee grievances and a system of fact-finding and conciliation to settle disputes. Strikes were allowed for most public employees, except firefighters, police, and certain exempt groups, but the strikes could only come after impasse was reached in bargaining and public notice was given. Contrary to the idea that raising needed taxes is political death, Celeste was reelected in 1986.

Ohio is not Egypt, of course, so most folks here don’t have the grievances that the average Egyptian does, but if public employees lose the right to sit down and talk with their employers, they will just have to “shut up” about their grievances and their ideas for improving their services—or resort to the kinds of demonstrations and illegal strikes we’ve seen in Ohio before, and we’ve seen recently in the Middle East. After all, when the Founding Fathers declared “All men are created equal,” they didn’t say, “except those who work for the government or teach our kids.” As one Columbus school board member realized and said, back in ’68 when teachers were demonstrating for the right to be heard, “People want a say in the things that affect their lives.” It’s going to be a bumpy road for everyone in Ohio until Governor Kasich and his Republican Party find out just how much people want a say.

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Jack Burgess is a retired teacher, former Executive Director of the Columbus Education Association, and former Chief of Arbitration Services, in Ohio’s Office of Collective Bargaining.