Super-man, Super-woman?

Ari L. NoonanSports

Farewell Yes, But When Is It Over?

It would be instructive to remember, dear reader, that the present Farewell to the Super campaign was stitched together with the precision employed by a watchmaker. Nothing about this scenario was done on impulse. Shortly after winning a disputed longevity raise last April, the Super surprised her friends/employers/benefactors on the School Board by announcing her retirement — about 80 days hence, on July 31. April was the time for her to leave. Or the end of the school year at the latest. But no, it was time to go into the Fatten Ye Olde Bank Account Mode. A couple of months after Dr. McGaughey’s coy retirement announcement, instead of a gold watch or a one-person, off-season cruise down the Los Angeles River, the Super was forced to accept an almost 25 percent raise of $30,000 a year. In case the Super did not realize how much she was loved, the School Board affixed an exclamation point. In a move that passed without sufficient scrutiny, the Board made the raise retroactive to last September. What the Super did to merit the retroactivity puzzles even her strongest admirers. The answer, of course, is that the Super did not accomplish anything more remarkable than showing up for work each morning. 

A Plain Raise Was Fair

Since the Super’s salary already was lower than that of the supers in eight similar school districts in Los Angeles County, the raw raise itself should not be begrudged. Not, however, in a neutered vacuum did the Super receive the entirely meritless caveat of back-pay. This, boys and girls, was a power play, muscle time. Victims deserve back-pay. The Super decidedly is not a victim. The malodorous gesture by the curious-thinking School Board smells of the fumes of the reparations crowd. “Your great-great-great-great-great-great uncle may have mistreated my great-great-great-great-great-great uncle, which means I am owed $200,000. Hand it over.”

All Right, Who Is in Charge?

I have been curiosified about the relationship between the School Board and the Super since I began studying it. Exactly who is in charge? Some members of the School Board seem to take a bizarre pride in declaring that the Super is their lone employee. “We are her boss. Look at what she and we have done.” Not quite. The reverse appears closer to the truth. The preponderance of evidence is that the Super runs the Board, which the Board will deny. Since the Super is the professional educator in the room and the Board members are the lay people, there is a natural line of tension running through the middle of their relationship every day. Each side vies regularly for the upper hand. Judging by the present standings, the Super has triumphed in every arm-wrestling test with the School Board. Whether it is her wiliness or the passivity of certain Board members remains a debatable point. If you have not noticed, the Super’s saddlebags will be bulging with freshly won dollars when she gallops out of Irving Place, otherwise known as Glitter Gulch, next month.

Will Mayor Wrong Strike Again?

The present wisdom is that the earliest Culver City could have a new Super in place is Oct. 1. This presents a technical conundrum. The School District is not going to fade to dust and three or four elementary schools will not close just because the Super’s office is temporarily dark. But what of the threat of a hostile takeover? I am not convinced that the power-mad Mayor Wrong of Los Angeles will dispatch one of his gun-toting henchman to step into the crease and highjack this School District, too, the moment Dr. McGaughey vacates her Super chair. Still, the School Board, which took months to post a Help Wanted sign in its window, feels it needs a body to sit in the Super’s chair for the presumed 60-day interim. Far as I can tell, there is no truth to the rumor that Dr. McGaughey would agree remain on the job for two more months if the Board would grant her a 10 percent raise retroactive to the beginning of her tenure.