Second of three parts
On several fire engines and ladder trucks in Boston a large shamrock, the symbol of Irish pride, is visible next to standard-issue decals like the engine number and Fire Department logo.
|
DIFFICULTY OF BREAKING RANK
|
|
|
|
''I don't think much [about] it,'' Fire Commissioner Martin E. Pierce Jr. said when asked why shamrocks are affixed to department vehicles in certain firehouses in the city.
But many of the city's minority firefighters do think about it. To them, the shamrock is a reminder that the Boston Fire Department remains an old-boy network, controlled as it has been for more than a century by white and mostly Irish-American men.
Since a 1974 federal court order, the department has been required to increase the pool of minority applicants, but black and Hispanic firefighters, with few exceptions, occupy only the lowest-paying and lowest-ranking jobs on the force. Minority firefighters, who now make up 29 percent of the job force, hold only 3 percent of the 464 highest-ranking and best-paying jobs in the department.
''It's still a club. I don't care what anyone says,'' said Phillip Wornum, president of the Boston Society of Vulcans, an association of minority firefighters.
Women, meanwhile, were not part of the court order and remain woefully underrepresented. There are currently three women training to join the department, which would boost the total number of women on the job to 12 - out of a force of 1,592. None of the female firefighters holds rank.
''The number of females is just outrageous,'' said Mayor Thomas M. Menino. ''It's not a number we should be proud of.''
Integrating one of the most tradition-bound institutions in the city continues to be a difficult task, largely because of efforts by the old-guard to maintain the status quo, minority firefighters charge. Moreover, minorities are disciplined at a far greater rate than their white counterparts, department records indicate. Minorities also charge they are more likely to be fired, or not hired at all, than white firefighters with similar backgrounds and records.
''It is a great department that helped me to raise my family, but it is also known as one of the most racist departments in the country,'' said Walter Porter, the only black fire captain on the force. ''It is locked into tradition. That means no change. This is ingrained ... this is Boston.''
In some firehouses, women and minorities have blended in without incident. In other units there has been conflict and accusations of harassment, double standards, and discrimination.
The treatment of women and minorities has been costly to the City of Boston, with the department named as a defendant in 22 complaints filed in the last five years with the Massachusetts Commission Against Discrimination. Last year, the department paid a downtown law firm $132,000 to represent it in discrimination cases and appeals of disciplinary matters.
The department refused to release records of settlements related to those complaints, but sources said one female firefighter has received a six-figure payment.
Traditional attitudes are slow to fade
As a district chief for the Boston Fire Department, Donald Price is required to attend training for superior officers aimed at preventing discrimination and harassment in the workplace.
When asked during a deposition last April what he thought of ''sensitivity'' training, Price responded, ''It gets you sensitive.''
He was just warming up.
In a blunt exchange with a lawyer representing a Boston fire captain suing the department, Price was asked why he hadn't promoted a female firefighter to a senior position that, by contract, she was entitled to since she had the most seniority.
''Because people didn't like her and I think it should be a man's job,'' he said. Asked again what the problem was with promoting a woman, he replied, ''Because it was ... traditionally a male-oriented Fire Department. I think a male should do it.''
When asked how women were to progress among the ranks in the department if denied promotions, Price responded, ''I'm not a woman. It's not my problem.''
Price went on to say women spoiled a formerly ''carefree, easygoing environment'' in the firehouse and in particular said he was angry that he couldn't use expletives now that women were on the job.
Despite his admission that he balked at granting the promotion because he believes women are unqualified for the job, Price was never disciplined. Commissioner Pierce said he spoke privately to Price and told him his actions were unacceptable.
Several women and minority firefighters said they have found Pierce, in face-to-face conversations, to be supportive and responsive to their concerns. The problem, they say, is getting the message across to those who feel differently, and to let it be known certain behavior will be punished.
When Fire Captain Edward Callahan took action to stop the harassment of a woman under his command, he quickly learned the price of challenging the department's old guard, according to a lawsuit he filed in 1997.
A 28-year veteran of the department, Callahan had an unblemished record prior to his assignment to the East Boston firehouse where the woman worked. In a deposition last year, Pierce characterized Callahan as ''a good man.''
In 1994, Callahan said firefighter Judy Hansford came under increased harassment by male firefighters. In a separate complaint, Hansford said her pillow had been urinated on, marijuana was put in her firecoat pocket, she was told she was not welcome at firehouse meals, and she was verbally and physically threatened.
Callahan said he took action after someone stole Hansford's fire gloves, a serious offense because it threatened her safety at a fire scene.
He called a meeting of all the firefighters in the house, demanded the return of the gloves, and admonished the firemen for their behavior. Months later the gloves were found on top of a male firefighter's locker.
Callahan alleges his effort that day to end the harassment of Hansford resulted in his becoming a target. He said he was summoned to headquarters and told by his superiors that he was on the wrong side in supporting Hansford and was himself now being investigated for dereliction of duty.
Chief for Operations Kevin MacCurtain said the department's lawyer advised him not to discuss the case, but he added, ''We differ with Callahan's version of what went on.''
An anonymous letter was sent to headquarters charging Callahan had discriminated against a black firefighter 18 months earlier and accused him of bizarre behavior, including hanging Christmas lights on a dumpster and posting signs in the firehouse in Spanish. Callahan denies the charges; the black firefighter declined to comment.
Five weeks after the stolen-gloves incident, the department disciplined Callahan for the first time in his career, saying he had harassed the firefighter mentioned in the letter and was guilty of ''conduct prejudicial to good order.'' He was not suspended, but a letter was placed in his file and he was ordered to see a psychiatrist.
Outraged, Callahan appealed the disciplinary action, and sought the help of the firefighters' union, Local 718 of the International Association of Firefighters.
After his initial appeal was denied, by the department, Callahan asked his union about the next step in the process. He said he was told there would be a hearing at City Hall and it wasn't necessary for him to attend.
But when he didn't show up at the hearing, his appeal was dismissed. Callahan says he was deliberately misled by the union. Union president Neal Santangelo declined comment.
Callahan remains on the job, working at a West Roxbury firehouse. He said his lawsuit, still pending, is an attempt to win back his reputation and send a message that not tolerating sexual harassment is the right thing to do.
''There is fear if people choose the wrong side,'' Callahan said. ''I was portrayed as a nut and a racist. I was trashed so soundly, I began second-guessing myself.''
Fired firefighter complains of double standard
The Boston Police Department has what is known as the ''Bobby Ford rule.'' It is a requirement that any male officer who gives a ride to a woman must immediately radio in his point of departure and destination.
The rule was established in 1984 after officer Robert Ford was fired for allegedly having sex with a woman in his custody and drinking on the job.
Today, Ford is a Boston firefighter.
The hiring of Ford was one of several cases cited by a black firefighter who was fired in 1995 after being arrested in Fall River for allegedly assaulting a police officer.
The firefighter, Reginald Creighton, complained he was fired before getting his day in court, and that white firefighters convicted of criminal charges were hired or allowed to stay on the job.
He filed a complaint with the MCAD that was initially dismissed. But Creighton's lawyer, Eddie J. Jenkins, submitted new information to the MCAD and asked that the agency reconsider. Jenkins said the matter against Creighton was ultimately settled by his agreeing to have the case continued without a finding; the defendant admits to no wrongdoing, but agrees that the government could present a case that would result in a conviction.
Most importantly, Jenkins claimed white firefighters in similar situations were treated differently.
He cited the case of Ford. He cited the case of a white firefighter convicted of assault and battery before he was hired by the department. Jenkins also cited the treatment of a white firefighter who was convicted of criminal motor vehicle violations during his first year on the job, and several drunk-driving and driving-to-endanger charges later. But he was allowed to keep his job.
In another case, the department did not fire a white firefighter who was charged with arson in the 1980s and subsequently pleaded guilty to two charges of malicious destruction of property. That firefighter remains on the job.
Faced with the new evidence, the MCAD reversed its earlier decision and found probable cause for Creighton's claim.
''There remains a genuine issue of fact as to whether the black and white firefighters were treated disparately with respect to disciplinary actions,'' the MCAD supervisor assigned to the case wrote.
In 1997, the department agreed to take Creighton back.
''It was clearly the type of case where the department should have been embarrassed and settled a long time ago,'' said Jenkins.
Last year, Jenkins helped another black firefighter win his job back. ''In every situation I saw, there was disparate treatment,'' Jenkins said.
In the past decade, minorities have been disciplined at twice the rate of white firefighters, according to department records. In almost every case, several minority firefighters said, the discipline against a black or Hispanic firefighter was deserved.
''It was overwhelmingly minority and they were overwhelmingly wrong,'' said Bobby Powell, a retired black fire lieutenant who was a member of the department's disciplinary board until 1994.
Powell and others said the behavior of white firefighters isn't any different - they just aren't disciplined as much.
''They were doing the same things as us - missing runs, doing drugs, coming in late - but they were not put up on charges,'' Powell said.
Wanda Moore, a black firefighter, was suspended in 1993 after she was caught working at T.J. Maxx while on stress leave.
That same year, Moore said, she noticed a white firefighter, who was also injured, working a second job selling fund-raising tickets for the firefighters' relief fund. No action was taken against the white firefighter.
Moore later filed a discrimination complaint with the MCAD. During a hearing on her case last summer, a lawyer for Moore asked a fire official why Moore was suspended while the white firefighter was not. The following day, five years after the fact, the white firefighter was suspended, according to department records.
Spokesman Steve MacDonald said the department didn't learn of the allegation against the white fireman until Moore's hearing, then took action immediately.
Asked why minorities in the department are disciplined at a higher rate than whites, MacCurtain, the deputy chief of operations, said, ''That is a good question.''
He added, however, that many of the charges were drug and alcohol related and that everyone who tests positive on a drug test is treated the same.
''The issue is clearly not a black and white issue,'' he said. ''I don't look at race when someone is on charges. It's simply an issue of what happened to that particular person at that time. We have been very fair in the way we have handled discipline.''
Department still short of court-ordered goal
In 1972, there were eight minority firefighters on the Boston Fire Department and no women.
Citing the obvious lack of minority representation, the federal court ordered the department to consider at least one minority recruit for every one white recruit.
The numbers have steadily increased since then to 472 minority firefighters today, 386 of whom are black and 86 Hispanic. There are a handful of Asians, but they are not considered a minority group under the court order.
The department, however, is still short of the goal created by the court order: a force reflective of the population of Boston. Minorities now make up 44 percent of the city's population, while the percentage of minorities on the Fire Department is 29 percent.
In the gap between minorities on the Fire Department and the urban minority population as a whole, Boston is not out of line with comparable sized cities, but it lags behind most in the numbers of minorities and women in management ranks. For example, Dallas, with a 52 percent minority population, has a fire department that is 42 percent minority, 18 percent in the upper ranks, including women. San Francisco's numbers are 53, 40, and 37 respectively; Milwaukee's 39, 11, and 0.
The hiring process in Boston has created resentment. White hopefuls, particularly those with long family histories in the department, have found it harder to get hired. Some white firefighters also believe standards have been lowered to hire minority candidates, reducing the quality of the force.
There is also a feeling among some white firefighters that many of the allegations of discrimination and harassment are leveled by ''professional complainers'' and others looking to cash in with complaints of mistreatment.
Indeed, some of those who have filed complaints against the Fire Department have also made discrimination claims against other employers. And both the department and the MCAD have determined that some of the complaints alleging discrimination were baseless. In a recent case investigated by an internal Fire Department committee, a Hispanic fireman admitted he falsely charged a white lieutenant with making a racial slur. When asked why he did it, the firefighter said he wanted a transfer away from the lieutenant, according to department records.
There are firehouses where women and minorities have reported not a single problem. And in the field, where firefighters have to work together for their collective safety, there are few reports of racial or gender conflict.
Many point to the heroics of Lieutenant Stephen Minehan, a white firefighter who died in 1994 while attempting to rescue two black firefighters reported missing inside a burning East Boston warehouse.
''The Fire Department is not different than anywhere else in America. We are a cross-section,'' said Santangelo, the president of the firefighters' union. ''We have come a long way, but there is always room to improve.''
The most recent woman hired, Tracey Goodman, wrote an article for the current issue of the union newsletter thanking the men at her new firehouse - Ladder 29 on Blue Hill Avenue - for treating her well.
''Change is not easy for anyone, and I thank them for welcoming me,'' she wrote of her male colleagues.
Yet problems with the treatment of women and minorities in the department are easily documented and persist today.
Four of the nine women on the job have filed MCAD complaints against the department. One of the women, Julia Rodriguez, said the bias against women and minorities is firmly rooted.
''It's entrenched,'' she said. ''There is nothing you can do to change that, or so it seems. You can't change it because deputy chiefs and district chiefs have the same mentality. There is no minority representation in the upper ranks.''
Her point was supported by an Oct. 27, 1997, memo written by Captain Albert Giannetti of the personnel division to MacCurtain. Giannetti said the department had failed to discipline District Chief Paul Moore for harassment, including calling Giannetti a ''... guinea.''
''Deputy Chief Moore has an abrasive, insulting, vulgar, and discriminatory attitude that is well known,'' Giannetti wrote. ''I suggest that action by the department be taken ... before the department has to answer for tolerating his inappropriate behavior.''
Moore, who was not disciplined, declined to comment in detail about the letter, but said it was a ''dead issue'' that was ''taken care of'' between him and Giannetti.
Black firefighter Mark Oliver said he found a note in his locker at Engine 48 in Hyde Park that made clear how someone viewed his presence in the firehouse.
''As far as we are concerned you are a bunch of (COONS) who do not belong on this job,'' the letter said.
The Boston Police Department was unable to determine who placed the letter in the locker.
Much of the discrimination is more subtle, according to black firefighters. For example, Lieutenant William Owens, a 20-year veteran of the department, said he couldn't get any white officers at a firehouse he worked at three years ago to swap shifts with him. They would only swap among themselves. And Captain Porter said when he filled in for a vacationing district chief, the chief's aide refused to drive him. Another time he filled in, someone spat on the car used to transport the chief, Porter said.
The department has a committee made up equally of minority and white firefighters to investigate complaints of discrimination. The 1841 Committee, named after the internal rule barring discriminatory behavior, reflects some of the problems plaguing the department.
Many votes are split along racial lines. In several cases reviewed by the Globe, a minority investigator from the committee and a white investigator reviewing the same case came to opposite conclusions.
Minority members of the committee said many black and Hispanic firefighters will not bring complaints to the panel because they don't believe it is effective. ''It's a toothless tiger,'' said Owens. ''The investigation outcome is always among racial lines.''
John Brignoli, a white member of the committee and a 30-year veteran of the department, said there is no tension between the black and white firefighters he works with. But he does acknowledge lingering resentment from the court order mandating the hiring of minorities.
''I mean, I didn't own any slaves, and as far as I know none of the guys who are on the job were slaves,'' Brignoli said. ''Things change. When is it going to end?''
Brignoli said he has yet to work with a female firefighter, but doesn't think much of women being on the job.
''They might get too emotional when it comes to getting someone out,'' he said. ''They might start screaming instead of going up the ladder and getting them. Now, this is nature. This isn't me saying this.''
Promotional system staunchly defended
The system for testing and promoting Boston firefighters has been in place for as long as anyone can remember.
The department is fiercely protective of its promotional system and Pierce said he will not change it, even if the result is more minorities rising through the ranks.
''I believe in this process,'' he said.
Minority firefighters say the promotional system does one thing very well: protect the status quo. Because the current system of promotional exams has resulted in only a handful of minority firefighters becoming officers, it is deemed a success, they say.
''This is stuff [on the test] you remember for four hours only,'' said Powell. ''Our young people are just as smart.''
Wornum said his organization has asked the department to follow a national trend of broadening the exam to test for leadership, administrative, and hands-on skills.
These so-called assessment exams have been found by several experts to provide a better gauge of an applicant's ability to lead, while also testing his or her knowledge of the job.
A team of fire experts from around the country who studied the Boston Fire Department in 1995 agreed with Wornum.
''The examination process should be reviewed, particularly as they relate to chief officers,'' the experts hired by the MMA Consulting Group Inc. wrote. They suggested hiring consultants to develop a test that ''tests leadership, administrative, and management skills. These aspects of the examination process are not tested by traditional written examinations.''
But Pierce and union president Santangelo say the current system is colorblind and fair. Every candidate is told which books to study, and the department provides a promotional school to drill potential test takers.
''Everyone has the same shot,'' Pierce said.
Curtis Holzendorf, one of only four minority officers above the rank of lieutenant, said he agrees the promotional system does not discriminate. ''Everyone has the opportunity'' to do well, he said.
But beyond the debate of how well a multiple-choice exam selects officers, there is a built-in advantage that the department does not acknowledge.
Massachusetts is one of only a handful of states that provides an absolute preference to veterans on entry exams. The Fire Department must hire all qualified veterans before considering any candidates who are not veterans. At the same time, there is a disproportionate number of white firefighters who are veterans, accoring to hiring records.
The number of white versus minority veterans becomes important when promotional exams are given because two points are automatically added to the score of every veteran.
If a black firefighter who is not a veteran scores the same on a captain's exam as a white firefighter who is a veteran, the white applicant will rank higher on the list. There is also a slight adjustment to scores based on a candidate's experience and education. Sometimes, those at the top of the list are separated by only hundredths of a point.
Pierce's policy is to promote strictly on the rankings of the list provided to him by the state's civil service agency, which adjusts the list to account for the veterans' preference.
By law, Pierce could employ the so-called ''rule of three,'' which means he could pick one officer from every three names listed, beginning at the top. Asked if the rule of three would allow him to get more minorities in senior positions, Pierce said it ''probably'' would.
Asked if he would consider doing so, he said no.
''It's a morale issue,'' he said. ''What you are asking me [to do] is a quota system for promotion.''
Powell denied this would be a quota system, saying it would merely be ''the right thing'' to do. However, he doubts Pierce will ever do it.
''He is still a member of the union and the union would go bananas,'' said Powell. ''Marty Pierce's father was on the job. White people have done well. We haven't.''
Boston Police Commissioner Paul Evans, however, has selected superior officers using the rule of three. As a result, the percentage of minority officers in the Police Department is 17 percent, five times what it is in the Fire Department.
Mayor Menino said he believes the Fire Department should follow a similar policy as the police.
''I am a firm believer that your public safety departments have to reflect the diversity of your city,'' he said.
If the current system is maintained, it will likely be another generation before the city could witness a significant number of blacks and Hispanics moving into the upper ranks of the Fire Department.
Few openings for senior officers are expected in the next 10 years, and minority firefighters worry that the current system will favor filling those positions with whites.
Spokesman Steve MacDonald said the department doesn't project significant turnover among the lieutenants on the job until 2008, and the next vacancy among deputy chiefs is not expected for at least six years.
The only way change will come to the upper ranks of the department, and consequently to the ranks of regular firefighters across the city, is for the city to insist on changes, Wornum and Powell said.
''Pierce is maintaining the status quo,'' Wornum said. ''To make a difference on the job, you have to upset people. I don't think it will happen in my lifetime. It is too entrenched.''
Maureen Goggin of the Globe Staff contributed to this article.
