Martha Hoffman’s statement on the closing of the SF SPCA Hearing Dog Program
By Christie Keith
June 20, 2008
This statement was written by Martha R. Hoffman, a 20-year veteran of the recently closed San Francisco SPCA Hearing Dog Program. This is her account of the closure, and her reflections on its impacts.
She asked that we point out that there is a longtime SF SPCA feral cat volunteer named Martha A. Hoffman, just to avoid any confusion.
On April 21, 2008, staff members of the SF/SPCA Hearing Dog Program were called in to a meeting with President Jan McHugh-Smith, Vice-president Dori Villalon, and human resources chief Alice Jordan, and surprised to receive letters stating that the HDP was terminated and our jobs eliminated. We were told that Glenn Martyn and I were expected to leave immediately, escorted and watched at all times by the vice president and human resources employees.
I was so grateful that our volunteers all started protesting loudly and immediately that very day, especially because I was still in legal limbo as to what I could say or do. The human partners of the hearing dogs could not protest the decision either; they were kept in the dark until the SF/SPCA sent them a letter five weeks later. The intensity of the support from our volunteers was all the more amazing, since these people all have busy lives and careers. Since the budget cuts to HDP in the past months — down from three trainers to one (me), hours cut to the weekend staff person, and more — the volunteers had been working even longer hours than their usual committments of above-and-beyond time helping to train the dogs, taking them home for nights and weekends, and helping clean the living areas of the dogs.
Additionally, from the inside, there were the phone calls and emails to me from people still working at the SF/SPCA, from the upper levels on down, expressing their anger and shame about this decision.
About a week after the HDP was terminated, I was told by an insider that at an internal meeting discussing the uproar, Jan McHugh-Smith had said dismissively, “Whenever you make changes, there is a fuss. But after awhile, the fuss dies down.”
Since the fuss was firing up rather than dying down, I asked a friend with organization experience about her comment. He said, “Yes, she is right, but ONLY if the change was just a change. But if people perceive that the core mission of the organization is being changed, then there will be hell to pay!”
And that’s when I started to see the big picture.
Most shelters have little funding, no community support, and just a few great volunteers who would rather suffer with the animals than not help them.
The strength of the SF/SPCA has been its community programs, a concept started by Richard Avanzino. In addition, he changed the sad reality of euthanasia to a last resort instead of a constant carnage. As a result, people no longer thought of the SF/SPCA in the same category as the dreary dungeon shelters they had experienced (and avoided) before.
It became a place where their kids went to SPCA Camp to tame shy kittens, watch spay/neuter surgeries and help train hearing dogs. The campers celebrated the success of “their” hearing dogs when they and their families attended the graduation ceremonies. Friends went to school there and got diplomas from the Academy for Dog Trainers or the (former) Grooming College . People took their own pets or hearing dogs in training on Animal Assisted Therapy visits seven days a week. The Doggy Daycare Center was for a few years a favorite hangout for SF dogs. People got help caring for feral cats humanely, and free advice on dog and cat behavior issues. People took their dogs to training and dog-sports classes. For many, it was a summer camp for grownups.
So, of course, they volunteered, adopted their favorite animals, made human friends, and many got jobs there. They fell in love with each other, partnered, and later brought their kids in. Summer camp kids grew up to become junior camp counselors, volunteers, and employees. People saw the SF/SPCA as part of the community, and part of their family. Naturally they helped raise funds, donated money, and left bequests. The SF/SPCA went from an almost broke organization to a very wealthy one. Nobody minded, because it was their own organization; they had nurtured and built it bit by bit with their thousands of hours of volunteer time and their own money. They saw the result: thousands of saved animal lives, generations of animal-aware children, and a shelter that was a role model the world over for how to build something from nothing, for how to get any community to save and value unwanted dogs and cats.
But because the SF/SPCA received all the benefits of being a part of the San Francisco community family, people believed implicitly that it would act as a family member should. Family problems can be discussed and solved. You certainly can’t murder a family member and still expect to be fed and supported and loved. And so many different “betrayed,” “shocked,” and “horrified” people have expressed this same image to me over and over again about the termination of the Hearing Dog Program and the Cat Behavior Department — that they felt like someone had died, like a friend had been shot, like someone they loved had been euthanized.
The wealth that the SF/SPCA has accumulated is not the Board of Directors’ to play with. The lives of the people who form and support the organization are not theirs to disrupt and destroy at random. The last wishes and bequests of deceased SF/SPCA family members are not theirs to disrespect. Above all, the lives of animals who need help are not theirs to turn away or euthanize just for cost-effectiveness.
The core mission of the SF/SPCA is not just in the written “Mission Statement,” good as it is. The core mission is to carry out the vision of the far-seeing and loving San Francisco community that built this fantastic organization.
