I was just forwarded the text of a “loyalty oath” that officers, executive board and review board members of the Clark County teachers union are required to take:
“I (state your name) do hereby faithfully pledge to carry out the duties and responsibilities of the Clark County Education Association to the best of my ability, subverting all persona goals, loyalties and ambitions to the organization. I pledge to conscientiously work toward achieving the collective goals of the organization, to represent the membership of the Clark County Education Association, to keep in the strictest confidence information acquired as a result of my position in closed or executive session and diligently avoid any conflict, whether personal or professional in nature, that may tend to have any negative bearing on my ability to fully and honestly perform the duties and responsibilities arising from my position. I do solemnly undertake this Oath of Office, and hereby, commit my allegiance and loyalty to the Clark County Education Association and its members, any membership in, connection with, or obligation to any other organization notwithstanding.”
I can’t confirm this yet, but I understand members take this oath while wearing togas in a candlelit basement somewhere off of West Sahara near Palace Station. Afterwards, new members must proceed through a gauntlet of veteran union leaders wearing Rey Mysterio masks, bending over sideways in front of each for a good paddling on their behinds with a bamboo cane wrapped in sandpaper.
They are then blindfolded and escorted to a remote desert location outside of town where, on a moonless night, they are required to march around in circles for an hour – naked, except for a pair of white tube socks and a green sombrero, and slathered in Canola oil – picking petals off of roses while chanting, “The union loves me; the union loves me not. The union loves me, the union loves me not.”
But that might just be an urban legend.
