November 30, 1993 _ 3

Would-be students poorly served by musical chairs that
would downgrade advanced education

by David Mitchell, M.L.A.

This fall, more than 20,000
British Columbians were turned away
- from post-secondary educational insti-
tutions in our province, just as they
were last fall. By and large, these are
qualified students who have a strong
, desire to improve their skills, as well as
their chances for employment ina very
tough labour market, But they're out of
luck.

What are we doing about this
crisis? Absolutely nothing.

And the real tragedy is felt in
~ the larger socio-economic context: one
out of 10 British Columbians is
currently receiving’ social assistance;
unemployment insurance receipts
account for more than 10 per cent of
employable adults; and yetour province
has one of the lowest rates of
Participation in post-secondary
education in Canada.

How can this be? In this most

favored of all provinces, how can our
record in the crucial field of advanced
education be so pathetic? What does it
portend for our future economic pros-
pects?

There was a time, not too long
ago, when the previous Social Credit
government was derided for its anti-
intellectualism and penny-pinching
approach to funding of post-secondary

‘ education. Most university and college

administrators now look back
nostalgically to those as the good old
days, when Victoria seemed at least
concerned with improving access to
advanced education in our province.
The current NDP government doesn’t
even bother to pay lip service to that
once-cherished goal.

Evidence? The Human Re-
source Development Project, a massive
initiative of advanced education
community in B.C., has over the past

The Other Press

few years sought to achieve a better
balance in the kinds of learning taking
place in post-secondary programs
throughout our province. Today there

is no evidence that any of the work of

this impressive collaborative effort has
been taken into account at the political
level in Victoria to help address the
present crisis.

Further evidence?
Shortly after the last provincial election,
the NDP government established a
special advisory committee to review
B.C. student assistance and barriers to
post-secondary participation. The
committee produced a significant
report in September 1992, with detailed
recommendationsin the areas of tuition
policy, child care, student housing,
student employment, First Nations
students and students with disabilities.
More than a year later, this valuable
report sits gathering dust - like tomany

 

 

 

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Fares applicable for students between the ages of 12 and 24. Proof of age is required. Travel is on a stand-by basis only.

STAND-BY FOR

TAKE-OFF.

 

 

ends meet.

then think again.

 

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That’s why we’re offering a year-round
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So, if you thought a flight home or a

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other vaunted, even well-intentioned,
efforts.

The final proof, how-
ever, that advanced education has
slipped completely from the shelf of
NDP priorities can be seen in the recent
cabinet shuffle and government
reorganization. The minister of
advanced education, Tom Perry, was
fired; he will no longer serve as a
member of Premier Mike Harcourt’s
executive council. The well-respected
deputy minister, Gary Mullins, was
also sacked, to be redeployed elsewhere
in the public sector. (Deputy ministers
are rarely fired these days, as their
severance settlements - usually in the
quarter-million-dollar-plus range - are
too politically burdensome for
governments to carry.) .

And the Ministry of
Advanced Education itself was abolished
- absorbed into a new hybrid creature:
the Ministry of Skills, Training and
Labour.

There is a potent sym-
bolism in the name of this new bureau-
cracy: nowhere are the terms “advanced
education” or “post-secondary
education” to be found in the organi-
zation charts. Presumably there will
now be a new emphasis on skills
development and the often-
undervalued vocational, technical and
apprenticeship training. But will this
be at the expense of academic studies?

The new minister of
skills, training and labour is Dan Miller,
who formerly servedas forests minister.
Apparently Miller was too effective in
his previous portfolio, as he was
criticized for being “too close” to the
forest industry; With a strong trade-
union background, it will not be
surprising to see him devote most of
his attention to the labour component

of his new portfolio. The new deputy
minister, Garry Wouters, was
transferred from aboriginal affairs. He
was once a high-school principal in
Saskatchewan.

By the time Miller and
Wouters get their feet under their desks,
learn a little about their new ministry
and develop plans for a supposed new
approach to skills development and
training, we will be on the verge of
another provincial election. Then, of
course, we will need to start all over
again, having lost valuable time and
energy in one of the most formidable
challenges in public administration in
our province.

Some might call this a
cynical view. But it’s time to become
realistic. We've got to stop the musical
chairs in Victoria from creating further
instability and administrative gridlock
in the vital area of advanced education.
We must recognize the important role
that post-secondary education can play
in our economic competitiveness.

All British Columbians
who wish to better themselves by
participating in academic, vocational
or technical programs should be
provided with appropriate
opportunities. This would prove a far
superior use of public funds, with a
much higher return on investment,
than passive income-maintenance
programs such as unemployment
insurance or social assistance, which
too often are the only alternatives.

It’s time to rediscover
advanced education and rescue it from
the political Philistines who seem so
determined to ignore the crisis that
threatens our future well-being.

David Mitchell is an author, historian and
MLA (Independent Liberal) for West Vancovuer-
Garibaldi.

 

r

  
     
   

E HORSE’S
MOUTH

by Jason Kurylo

Don'tturn around, but there's
something behind you. It's been
creeping up on you for months, and
you probably haven't noticed. It's big,
and it's bad, andit's got sales galore to
go along with it. The culprit is. . .
Xmas.

I could be going on about the
commercialization. Or the rape the
Christian faith. Or maybe the futile
attempts of people like myself to
escape the horrid displays of pseudo-
religion that continuously flood in all
forms of communication at tis time
of year. But that might be construed
as antisocial (however typical)
behaviour. Instead, I'dlike to bring to
your attention the worst problem our
society faces when it comes to Xmas:
Mandarin orange season.

Oh, I used to like Mandarin
oranges. I'd eat 'em like there was no
tomorrow. Sometimes, I'd inhale 10
or 11 in one day. Of course, I hated
when I got a wedge stuck up my
nostril, but it was (snort) part of the
deal. But I'd like them. Until it
happened . . . the Mandarin Incident

One day I was driving along,
on a day much like today; a little
chilly, black ice was in the formative
stages. Nipples, male and female alike,
were erect as erect can be. As I was
driving, I decided to pull a Mandarin
orange out of my bag. Minding my
own business, I was peeling, driving
with my knees, you know the routine.

Suddenly, this delivery truck
in front of me started to spin out of
control, I assume on a patch of black
ice. The back doors flew open, and

 

box after crate after container cascaded

upon my windshield. They crashed )
open, leaving gallons of Mandarin
mush on my window. Unable to see,
I desperately tried to swerve to avoid
the truck, and in doing so jumped the
curb. So there I was, speeding down
the sidewalk, and the only thing that
I saw through this orange pulp was a
large bird flying over my hood.

I took it as a sign. An omen.
Some sort of divine communication,
telling me that no matter what
happens, i could always fly above my
problems, soaring objectively through
aclear sky, far over any clouds which
overshadow my life. As I climbed out
the door, I was not worried about the
shape of my car, which had sustained
minor damage, nor was I concerned
with my throat, which was in severe
pain from having a double wedge
stuck in the windpipe. I was happy to
be alive. And not just alive, but at one
with my internal, astral cosmic life-
force, or something like that. I was
content.

Until, that is, I realized that it
wasn't a sign from above at all. I felt
a sudden surge of pain in the back of
my thigh, and as I turned around, I
saw why: the Church's Chicken mascot
was charging at me full speed, cursing
at me and throwing Mandarin
oranges. As I ran, dodging traffic and
oranges alike, I vowed never to touch
anther Mandarin orange as long as I
live .. . (or Church's Chicken for that
matter).

Try to imagine the dreams,
nay, the nightmares. Try to imagine
the sheer havoc such an experience
could wreak on the average psyche.
Imagine, if you dare, being pelted
with Mandarin oranges by a man ina
big chicken suit, running down the
middle of the road, hoping and pray-
ing you'll get hit by a passing
ambulance rather than live through
this horror. Try. And maybe, you'll
comprehend the difficulty I have every
year, when those boats pull into
Vancouver Harbour, and unload their
evil cargo upon this great Lower Main-
land. But I doubt it.

Wish me luck.

 

3

 

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