“Judith is the Math Lab”: students revolt against Math Lab food ban, coordinator demotion

On Wednesday, March 5, Judith Eckstein was demoted from her position as Math Lab tutoring coordinator at Santa Monica College (SMC) after over 15 years of employment in the Math Department. The demotion arrived after a weeklong student-led movement against the College administration’s recent crackdown on the no-food policy in the Math Lab.

In the Lab on Thursday, both visitors and student workers, including tutors and clerks, expressed outrage at Eckstein’s demotion, calling it wrongful and plotting methods of pressuring the administration to reinstate her position. A meeting of concerned Math Lab workers, professors and students was held at midday. The congregates discussed potential responses, but also took time to profess their sorrow in a group setting.

“The outcome was, really there is nothing much to do right now, because we don’t know… what happened, we don’t know why she received the notice,” said an anonymous clerk of the Math Lab. “But it was nice to come as one and just… share our emotions and what we feel right now.”

Another clerk expanded on what the common sentiment is. “The Math Lab isn't the Math Lab anymore. Without Judith, it isn’t the Math Lab, it’s just a place.”

Both clerks requested anonymity to protect their job security.

SMC Superintendent and President Dr. Kathryn Jeffery did not immediately respond to the Corsair’s request for comment on this story.

The College’s Math Lab offers free in-person and online tutoring over five days a week, and is open from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. from Monday through Thursday, a rare late-night fixture of the College. After the opening of the Math and Science Building (MSB) at the start of the spring semester, the Lab packed up from the low-tech Math Complex trailer park and set up shop in MS107 and 108. 

For years, the Lab was a known spot among students to procure meals, beverages and snacks for free. Numerous Lab regulars alleged that the foodstuffs were supplied by Eckstein and other professors through out-of-pocket contributions, which Eckstein confirmed openly. 

“I grew up like the kind of kid who doesn’t have (much) to eat… I remember just being in the late afternoon, and how hungry I would get,” said Eckstein, an SMC alum. “I don't have to spend this much money of my own money to feed kids, but I do it because I think it reminds me of myself.”

“Most of the kids that sit in here, they’re like my kids,” she said.

A breadth of students told the Corsair that they or someone they know have been dependent on the free food in the Math Lab for one or more of their daily meals. These dependents include tutors, math students, and the wider student body, including a sizable population of homeless students.

In years past, among others, Mark Sasaki was a student experiencing homelessness and was directed to the Math Lab. He was sent by his friend Sohei Okamoto, who knew about Eckstein’s open-door policy and no-questions-asked provisions.

The difference was massive. “That was where he got food every day,” said Okamoto. “So that’s how he lived.” 

All polled students attested the food supply in the Lab was a needed sanctum for under-resourced students, busy students and tutors working long hours, and students without the time or availability to find sustenance elsewhere.

Within a week of establishment, the new Math Lab was up and running, described by several Lab scholars as their only source of community on campus: it’s “something that we all need, we need a community, and she created our community,” said the first anonymous clerk. Members of the Lab were quick to revive the food-sharing process in the new location, lined with hardwood floors, which was recommended by Eckstein at an MSB design meeting.

“I think the biggest thing for the Math Lab is the community,” said Samuel Fisher, calculus tutor and applied mathematics major. “It's just like this great environment where it's productive but social. I know of so many people that have come here and just been able to not only be vulnerable, but also make friends.”

“But ultimately, it's like a place that should be respected,” Fisher said.

According to accounts from both Math Lab regulars and SMC Public Information Officer Grace Smith, the administration was alerted by Maintenance and Operations about food remnants and overstuffed trash cans in the Lab. These problems, Smith said, “are creating a hazardous situation with the potential to attract pests and vermin.”

On Feb. 24, Eckstein received an email from Sasha King, Dean of Academic Affairs. The message informed her of the new policy, banning all consumption of food and beverages in the Lab, with the exception of water. The public distribution process came to a crashing halt. 

On Feb. 25, at the Facilities Planning Subcommittee meeting, King was attending as a representative of the administration and Eckstein as a representative of California School Employees Association (CSEA) Chapter 36, the SMC labor union. King referred to the Math Department’s transition from the trailer park to the new building as “smooth.” The word “smooth” caused Eckstein to snap and she said “I hate you!” at King.

“The move was not smooth, and it has also not been assessed by the district, and my own supervisor has not even been into the Lab or checked in with me to ask how things are going,” said Eckstein. “So to say that it’s smooth on the same day that they take away the food, I found that very, very triggering.”

As of March 6, Eckstein resigned from her position as CSEA secretary. 

After her public blows with King, Eckstein immediately felt her job was at risk. She returned to the Lab and told the present students she believed she would be fired.

“I told everybody, what I just did today is the most horrible thing you can ever do,” she said. “ It was the wrong thing that I did and I want students to learn from it. And that's what I told them… Don't do what I did.”

Within 24 hours, the food ban sparked dissidence among students. The most concrete act of criticism was a petition created by Fisher titled “Bring Back Food in the Math Lab.” For a week, a flyer with a QR code linking the petition was pinned to the Math Lab whiteboard, surrounded by bright red arrows and the marker messages “SIGN THIS” and “BECOME UNGOVERNABLE.” 

Other copies of the flyer were posted around the MSB or shared electronically. As of March 7, the petition has over 200 signatures.

In simpler fashions, other students rebelled by continuing to eat and drink in the Lab, and continuing to pillage from the monstrous assortment of ramen containers stored in the math staff room. A nearby drinking fountain shows evidence of the culture, with a sign warning “Don’t Dump Ramen in the Fountain.”

But during that first week of implementation, many students weren’t willing to break the new rule, and according to Fisher, it showed: “Since the policy change, I’ve noticed students struggling to stay motivated and focused due to hunger.”

“We eat food to live, to study,” said Megan Reidenbaugh, a sophomore studying film production who is in the Lab almost every day to visit friends. “Imagine you're going into your calculus class, and you have not eaten the entire day, and your stomach is growling. What grade do you think you're going to get on that exam? A zero. A fail.”

At the SMC Board of Trustees meeting on March 4, Board Chair Dr. Nancy Greenstein announced the Board’s unanimous vote, with the exception of absentee Anastasia Foster, to temporarily suspend a “classified employee” for 15 days starting March 5. Eckstein is a classified, or non-academic, employee.

The next day, on March 5, Eckstein was approached in her office by members of Human Resources (HR) and SMC Police Department (SMCPD) officers, and presented with a demotion notice. 

According to Sergeant Sonya Patterson of SMCPD “the police were standing by, but the police didn’t say anything to her.” 

Sherri Lee-Lewis, Vice President of Human Resources, declined to comment on this story. 

Once HR and SMCPD left, Eckstein gathered her belongings, then took the Lab clerks aside individually for parting salutations.

“She said she fucked up and that she was sorry,” said the second anonymous clerk. “She said she’s still part of the Math Lab but she won’t be our supervisor anymore.” 

The Lab employs both student and professional tutors, and the clerks theorize Eckstein will be able to return as a tutor. Already, however, her absence is admonished.

“Everybody needs a leader and we feel like, okay, our leader is gone right now. We don't have a leader, we don't know what to do,” said the first anonymous clerk.

On Thursday afternoon, following the lunch meeting, documents labeled “In Defense of Math Tutoring Coordinator Judith Eckstein” were distributed in the Math Lab, where Eckstein’s glass-paned office remained dark and vacant. Imploring students to put pressure on the administration, the document instructs Eckstein supporters to write out arguments for her reinstating and listed senior staffers to contact.

Among attendees of Thursday’s meeting was Jae Sung Hwang, math student and president of the Math Integration Club, who is recoiling from the loss. “Her presence is imperative,” he said.

“This building is beautiful, I understand why they’re keeping the space as clean as possible,” he said. “The thing is, (it would be) helpful to address issues of deterioration as they’re ongoing.”

Instead, he said, the administration waited until the trash cans were overstuffed and the custodial department overworked, leading to an immediate and unenforceable sanction. A more proactive solution, he said, would be “more trash cans, more tools and resources for students to throw their food away.”

“Allowing food can serve as an incentive for students to visit the Math Lab more frequently, increasing its accessibility and effectiveness as an academic resource,” said Fisher.

The SMC marketing team has attempted to capitalize on this incentive. On March 5, around the time of Eckstein’s demotion, a video posted to the College’s official Instagram account following a day in the life of a College student featured a stop in the Math Lab for what the narrator described as “free snacks” and “free drinks… everything I need to do to perfectly study.”

At around 7 p.m. on March 6, Associate Dean Wendi Demorst entered the Math Lab and announced that Eckstein will return to her position as tutoring coordinator in a week and will remain in the role for at least a month. 

The students, rallied under the moniker “Bring Back Judith,” are in the midst of deciding and agreeing upon a retaliatory measure. In the workshopping stage, some students are concerned the current method might be counterproductive.

“We still don't know if sending a bunch of emails is the best way of going about it, because that could just upset them,” said tutor Nick Quiles. “The last thing we want to do is also piss off the upper levels… So we’re trying to find alternative ways.”

The food ban and demotion are items on an expanding list of qualms that math and science students have reported in the new building. Several students have noticed glass panes falling off the windows, confirmed in a Public Information email to the Corsair. Furthermore, student clubs aren’t allowed to hold meetings in MSB.

“They want to keep it clean and pristine in whatever way possible, but they're putting the corporate mindset over the student life,” said Quiles. “All this drama for a building.”

The “Bring Back Judith” bunch is vehement, and in their planning, they’re utilizing memories of both personal and professional camaraderie with Eckstein to formulate their rhetoric.

“I don't know if anybody else can provide that same care for students that she did provide,” said Quiles. “I would just really hate to see the math lab just go into the hands of someone who's more corporate and business oriented instead of student oriented because that was what this was doing.”

“She has always been so generous, and giving, and so compassionate to everyone in the Math Lab, whether or not they're actually a math major, whether or not they're just taking a little class on the side,” said Reidenbaugh.

The anonymous clerks were anxious to assure that Judith will be dearly missed. “Judith was the Math Lab. I don’t think they can find someone else,” said the second. “Judith’s just the Math Lab, that’s it.”

“Whatever happens, I just hope that Judith would know how much she was loved by many,” said the first. “And I hope that gives her a light for, you know, to just keep it up and keep being her.”