A 33-year-old public college in Boston that serves many non-traditional, older and minority students—quite a few from Jamaica Plain—was plunged into chaos by its own administration earlier this month.

The actions of the dean of the College of Public and Community Service (CPCS) at the University of Massachusetts (UMass) Boston, with the apparent blessing of administrators over him, are having such a negative effect it is difficult to tell if they were the result of managerial incompetence or a real intention to harm the school.

In either case, the alma mater of Mayor Thomas Menino and state Rep. Jeffrey Sanchez, to name just two graduates who have benefited from an education there, has been crippled by the massacre.

Only two weekdays before classes were set to start, just before Labor Day weekend, on Aug. 31, Dean Adenrele Awotona notified all 11 part-time, non-tenured instructors—at least three of whom live in JP—that they were laid off. (Two others were informed last February they had to go this fall.) With the same short notice, tenured instructors were told to take over some of the classes. With that single action, the dean discontinued 40 percent of the educational services at CPCS, affecting 26 classes.

A college degree isn't necessary to figure out the dean's decision was a mistake, and the hundreds of students working for their degrees took the brunt of the impact.

At this writing, some fully enrolled classes have no teachers and are being cancelled. Already over-worked tenured instructors were asked to lead classes in subjects they know little about and for which they had not prepared. By rule, they cannot be forced to do that. And classes should not be taught by instructors without expertise, of course.

Students who have paid thousands of dollars in tuition are showing up in classrooms or wandering the halls wondering where their teachers, faculty advisors and the classes they need to take are. Student services, with a staff down from five to one—also the responsibility of the dean—has trouble being of help.

Students are not taking the hit lying down. With their supporters, they held several demonstrations this week. Hundreds have signed a petition criticizing the administration's behavior. Telephones at the State House and other government offices have been set ringing. Something's not right here, is the common-sense message they are sending.

When UMass officials finally deigned to address some elected officials' questions and concerns—which they have so far declined to do for students and staff—they say that enrollment is down. They say there have been layoffs across the UMass system.

What they do not say is that the number of layoffs in other colleges do not come close to the damaging level of those at CPCS. And they neglect to point out that they do not do any outreach for the college or even provide information about CPCS to prospective UMass students. The only way anyone can learn about CPCS is through word of mouth about the unique learning experience the school offers.

JP resident Larry Day returned last year after starting at CPCS more than 10 years ago. "What makes CPCS unique is it is a place where stuff you've done—things you've learned professionally and personally—count," he said. "Since the 1980s I have studied at some big-name, expensive places. The education I get at CPCS is much more valuable."

If the highly paid administrators at UMass are smart, they will immediately turn the academic calendar back to Aug. 30 or before and issue the working class students, their instructors, advisors, support staff—and the people of Massachusetts—a "never-mind" message.

Public educational institutions supported overwhelmingly by taxes and tuition payments should not be gutted until and unless a carefully planned, information-based, thorough public process determines it should be.

Massachusetts is not an oligarchy. Or is it? The future of one of its best, brightest public colleges hangs on the answer.

Sandra Storey