Under the Sun
The good, the bad
and the public workersWHEN I was in elementary school, one of the year-end rites before summer vacation was cleaning the classroom. Armed with brushes and bars of Fels-Naptha, we scrubbed the walls and wiped down desks, getting rid of the grime that had accumulated through the nine months of our habitation.
I remember working away at a scuff mark when Mrs. Johnson -- the teacher we called "mad lady" behind her back because of her sour disposition and tendency to yell -- suggested that I put "a little elbow grease" into the task. Never having heard the expression before, I went to the broom closet and searched the shelves for the stuff. Mrs. Johnson bustled over to demand what I was doing.
"I'm looking for the elbow grease," I said. She was furious, thinking I was being sarcastic, a faculty I had yet to acquire.
Punishment ensued. I was told to stand where I was for the rest of the day. I don't know how long I was kept there, but by the time she let me rejoin the class, the damp rag in my hand had dried.
Mrs. Johnson wasn't a good teacher. Her short temper coupled with a lack of a sense of humor made her ill-suited for dealing with children. But she was the exception. Most of the other teachers I had at Aliiolani weren't mean. Mrs. Wilkie was a strict disciplinarian, but if you did something wrong, she'd explain why bad behavior was unacceptable. And when she read us stories, she brought them to life by taking on the personae of the characters with voice and expression. She made her students want to learn.
Both Mrs. Wilkie and Mrs. Johnson were public employees, the first worthy, the second not. But if you were to believe the thoughtless rhetoric of some politicians and their party mouthpieces who paint all public workers with the same grubby tints, Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Wilkie were one and the same.
Anyone with a functioning brain will see through the negativity, but talking stink initiates and perpetuates stereotypes that can be blinding. It pushes us apart from our common goals.
A couple of weeks back, a radio ad dissing the public schools hit a nerve among some teachers. Although the ad targeted public schools, the teachers felt the criticism extended to the people who stand in the classrooms and do their best to educate children. They were tired of taking it in the teeth and said so.
To make themselves look better, some politicians have to make someone else look bad, so they feed on people's tendency to point fingers. When times are tough, public workers are easy targets. After all, they are just a bunch of lazy okoles who feed at the government trough with appetites so huge that hard-working taxpayers have to fork over massive slices of their paychecks to keep them in slop. No? No.
Public workers get a bad rap. I know because some of my close friends and relatives are public workers. I know that they work hard and put in long hours, often without overtime. I know that they go out of their way to help people, to listen to their problems patiently and to try to solve them.
But they can't work miracles, like issuing an automobile registration when a citizen rushes in 10 minutes before the close of business on the last day before the current registration expires. No matter that the citizen was sent a notice six weeks previous and could have easily registered the car by mailing in the form; no matter that the citizen didn't bring the proper paperwork or a check to pay the fee. The public worker, by gum, is the evil-doer to be berated as inefficient and unresponsive.
I'm not saying that there aren't any Mrs. Johnsons in the ranks of public employees, because there are. As with any group, there are those who take pride in doing their jobs well and those who are slackers, but to label all government workers with the broad stroke of incompetence is wrong.
Today, the opala guys will come pick up my trash as they do twice a week without fail. Today, the fire and rescue teams will carry a hiker from the Koolaus, a clerk in the planning office will issue a permit for a home renovation, a park worker will trim broken branches from trees, a health employee will record a birth, a researcher will run project data, a librarian will give a little girl her first library card. I don't expect many of them will get much thanks. I hope I'm wrong.
Cynthia Oi has been on the staff of the Star-Bulletin for 25 years.
She can be reached at: coi@starbulletin.com.