In the year 1913, when the Socialists carried their second election and got control of the schools, the school buildings were run down and filthy, with no paint and with vile, unsanitary toilets. Large sums of money had been voted, and nobody could find out where they went; the accounts were purposely confused for the concealment of graft. The school board was made up of political “dead beats” and grafters, representing all the business interests, including prostitution and booze. The teachers were browbeaten, the parents were insulted and driven from the schools when they tried to find out what was going on. The pupils were “fired” because of their own political activities, or the activities of their parents in opposition to the gang.
The Socialists came into power, and their first demand was for the building up of the school system. They called a bond election, and the interests defeated this; subsequently the bond issue was carried, and there was a possibility of several hundred thousand dollars being spent without consideration for the grafters. This, of course, would never do; so the political science department of the university was called on, and it drew up a plan, which the city council put through, to appoint a special committee to handle this money; a “committee of citizens”—that is to say, the business grafters of Berkeley, in sufficient number to outvote the Socialists!
Mrs. Elvina S. Beals was a Socialist member of this school board, and also of the next school board, on which she constituted an unhappy minority. She has told me the story of her experiences, and put the documents into my hands. To become a Socialist school board member is like stepping into a lion’s den; save that there is no wall against which you can back up—the lions are on every side of you! There is nothing you do or attempt to do for the schools in which you do not encounter some business interest trying to make profit out of them.
If you tried to obtain a fair price for a building site, you made mortal enemies of some fellow board member, whose relatives were expecting to retire with a life competence from this particular deal. If you insisted upon enforcing the law requiring bids for school furnishings, you made enemies of those board members who had “friends” among the wholesalers. If you tried to have the board furnish stationery to the high school students at cost, the merchants of your city came in a body to make a protest to the board—you were ruining their business. The secretary of the Chamber of Commerce made an eloquent speech, asking who it was that paid the taxes to support the schools, if not the business men. If you tried to establish school cafeterias, so that poor children could get wholesome food at cost, you were ruining the restaurant keepers and the bakers. All these people would combine and form a little local Black Hand; they would start a scandal bureau and fill the kept press with misrepresentations; they would start a “recall” campaign against you, and pour out floods of slander upon you, and make you spend a small fortune to defend yourself.
And here is the most significant fact: at the very front of this campaign of rascality and falsehood would be the university machine! Here was a school board giving away old houses to real estate men without bids; here was a coal man on the board giving furniture contracts to a friend; and in every such issue the university vote would be on the side of the grafters! The Socialists brought up the question of fire insurance graft. It seemed that whenever the local insurance men got hard up and needed cash, they went and insured a school; they had even insured one building which didn’t exist!
They had been charging as high as four dollars per hundred; but now the Socialists demanded bids, and forced the local agents down to a dollar-sixty per hundred, and in one case as low as sixty cents per hundred. The representative of a Pennsylvania company made this bid, and the law required that the city should take the lowest bid. Mrs. Beals urged that the law be obeyed; against her on the board was an official of the Federal Coal Company, whose president and secretary were at that time in San Quentin penitentiary, charged with defrauding the government by short-weight—and getting fifteen hundred dollars a month salary from the company while in jail! Also a prominent politician, who frequently came to board meetings with so much liquor in him that you could smell it across the table. Also a local political woman and finally the university professor. Here was a plain issue of whether or not the school board should obey the law; and the university professor of the Black Hand voted to disobey the law. After a whole day’s fight, Mrs. Beals forced a reconsideration on this matter; the professor stuck by the gang, but the woman and the coal dealer changed, and so the city of Berkeley was saved five thousand dollars.
Then came an old settler trying to sell some property to the board for many times its value. There was mysterious pulling of wires, and it was evident that the board was again going to disobey the law. So the Socialists raked up a forgotten statute, to the effect that the board could not buy land without the consent of the people. Under another forgotten statute they called a town meeting, which was most embarrassing to the grafters. The board dropped this proposition; also they dropped Mrs. Beals from the sites committee of the board, and put her on the supplies committee instead. Thus she saw another side of the system; one of the agents who sold school supplies told her he was glad there was now one school supplies committee in the state of California which did not have its hands held out!
The board, following the lead of President Barrows at the university, had made a ruling that the superintendent might dismiss teachers on recommendation from the principal, and without the right to see the board. But Mrs. Beals made it her business to see every teacher who was let out, and also to see those who were newly engaged. Iron fire-escapes were desperately needed, and with the help of the fire-chief Mrs. Beals got them. Also she got kindergartens in every primary school. Giving her entire time for the munificent salary of fifteen dollars a month, she had saved the city of Berkeley a hundred thousand dollars. But now came war and glory; the board members were called upon to sign a resolution to the effect that they would perform any service that Woodrow Wilson might request; and when Mrs. Beals very wisely hesitated at this, the Associated Press flashed her over the United States as disloyal. So the gang came in waving the stars and stripes, and everything is now back where it was. You will find this happening in city after city—America has been made safe for capitalism.
Berkeley now has as superintendent an amiable but feeble lecturer-pedagogue, who told the California Teachers’ Association that “the teachers and the public should get together in prayer-meeting”; he went on to explain what he meant by the public, naming the Chamber of Commerce, the Rotarians, the Kiwanis—and not a single labor body! The overhead expenses of the schools have increased five times—but they have put out all the Montessori work, because they cannot afford it! In charge of the spending of the money is a board made up as follows: a coal and wood dealer; a dry goods merchant of the Rotary Club and Chamber of Commerce type; the wife of an attorney; a political woman affiliated with the oil interests and the Barrows machine; and a professor of the agricultural department of the university. How aggressively the Black Hand is at work you may judge from the fact that the children of Berkeley were required to answer a questionnaire, disguised as a “social survey.” Among fifty questions were such as these: “How does your father spend his spare time? What does he do Sundays? What books does your mother read?” The child was assured that all this would be “confidential”; but he was not permitted to take the questions home to his parents!