Paying the Price for Embarrassing Wrong Candidate

It’s common in the workplace: A new big boss shows up. Suddenly there’s a new regime with a different style. One holdover executive gets ignored. Nothing much is said, but the message is clear--the former muckymuck has become a nonperson.

This seems to be happening to Delaine Eastin, state superintendent of public instruction. Eastin can’t be fired or transferred by the big boss because the voters put her in the job. But she still has a workplace problem.

Eastin was reelected to be state schools chief. But Gray Davis is determined to be The Education Governor, the guy credited with fixing California’s schools. His future depends on it. He’s way out on a limb with promises to make our schools “second to none.”

Eastin has many years of experience in education. She has knowledge and good ideas. No matter. Davis has the budget and a stack of pens to sign and veto bills.

Eastin has 1,250 employees. Davis has Gary Hart, a highly respected former state senator and education reformer, who has been given Cabinet rank. Also, the governor fills vacancies on the 11-member State Board of Education, which sets policy for Eastin’s department.

Eastin isn’t being heard--wasn’t invited to join the governor’s transition team; wasn’t even consulted on school reforms. Davis has the state’s loudest megaphone--and the ears of legislative leaders.

Fine, says Eastin. Just let her in on the action. They’re both on the same side, both are Democrats. Pay her some respect. Let her help.

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But the ugly truth is that Eastin has another problem--a problem of politics and payback.

Last spring, when Davis was at the lowest point of his underdog campaign, she cozied up to Al Checchi, the megabucks political neophyte who was trying to buy a gubernatorial election. Eastin didn’t actually endorse Checchi, but few voters probably knew the difference. “Gray was damned ticked,” recalls a Davis advisor.

First, at the Democratic state convention, Eastin challenged all the candidates to pledge that, if elected, they’d raise California’s per-pupil spending to the national average within five years. Davis and the other contenders--except for Checchi--thought this would require a whopping tax increase and refused. Privately, Davis was incensed that Eastin would push him into a corner and embarrass him with teachers unions.

That was egregious enough, in Davis’ view. But then Eastin accepted Checchi’s offer to bankroll a TV ad featuring her if she’d praise him for taking the higher-spending pledge. How, fumed Davis, could she embrace a do-nothing who hadn’t even voted in school bond elections?

Checchi figured Eastin would lend him credibility with voters. Eastin liked the idea of promoting her spending agenda. But she also had a strong political motive: She was short on campaign money, and this might attract enough votes in the June primary to avoid a November runoff in her ostensibly nonpartisan race.

It didn’t. Checchi crashed. Davis soared. And Eastin has been paying the political price.

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“Delaine is going to have to work through her problem with Gray,” says one Davis advisor. “Eastin who?” deadpans another.

Eastin says she regrets the TV ad.

“I don’t regret my sentiment. I was trying to put pressure on Gray [and others] to do the right thing by these kids,” she says. “But at the same time, you know, it makes life harder now. Gray was unhappy. He didn’t like it. He said I shouldn’t have done it. It’s created a little tension.

“But I’m weary of fighting. I really do think his heart’s in the right place, and I think we’re basically on the same page. I just hope he can overcome whatever bad feelings he may have because it’s critical we all work together to get this job done.”

And how can she help Davis push his school reform plan through the Legislature, where she once headed the Assembly Education Committee? “I’m willing to lead the applause. I’m willing to lead the cheers. I’m willing to help him work out the details.”

Ah, yes, the details. Eastin admits she’s not wild about every detail. “I welcome Gray’s sense of urgency,” she says. “But we have to be fair, even when we’re urgent.”

She worries about the fairness of requiring high school students, starting in 2003, to pass a rigorous exit exam to graduate. She’d rather push the date back to 2007. “I just want to make sure we’re fair to kids who are in the eighth grade this afternoon,” she says, noting that they haven’t benefited from smaller class sizes and improved reading instruction.

“Now, I don’t want to get in trouble with the guy, but. . . . “

She’s already in trouble with the big boss. Eastin ought to just speak her mind--as loud as she can, as she was elected to do. Sooner than later, the new governor will need all the help he can get.