Neighbors question nonprofit’s assistance of sex offender Robert Washington’s home

(To read the original, visit oleantimesherald.com. After this piece was published Oct. 1, 2017, Helen Washington was investigated for submitting false information on Home Energy Assistance Program and SNAP applications. She pleaded guilty in 2018 to welfare fraud and making a punishable false written statement.)

OLEAN — Along Fountain Street, tall trees and manicured lawns are graced with flowers, trimmed hedges and American flags. And, in the yard next to convicted sex offender Robert Washington’s house, two lawn signs together read “Sexually molest a child and you get your home remodeled for free!”

The signs highlight not only a simmering feud between Washington and several of his neighbors, documented in several Olean Police Department reports over the last two years, but also a debate the neighbors would like to have: Should nonprofit assistance funds for the impoverished be used to help those with a criminal history of sexual abuse?

Neighbors of Washington are voicing concerns that the home shared by the former Olean High School special education teacher and his elderly mother received apparent repairs and remodeling services this summer from local nonprofit organizations that use government funds.

Washington, 38, was charged in June of 2016 with having sexual contact with a 13-year-old male student during non-school sanctioned tutoring sessions at both Washington’s 361 Fountain St. home and the victim’s home. He was fired by the Olean City School District shortly after.

Neighbors are questioning why taxpayer-funded programs were allowed to benefit Washington, who is currently serving a six-month sentence in Cattaraugus County Jail for a third-degree criminal sex act, a class E felony, and set be released in December.

“He’s sitting in jail for molesting a child and he’s going to come home to a brand new, remodeled house that the taxpayers paid for,” said Barbara Whiteman of 371 Fountain St., in whose yard the signs about free remodeling were posted. “Does that sound right to you?”

Washington’s Buffalo-based attorney Frank Housh said Washington is entitled to all rights except those forfeited as part of his sentencing, and that the neighbors’ argument is “not legitimate.”

“They don’t get to decide who gets the benefits of being a citizen in the United States and in the city of Olean,” Housh said. “The mob doesn’t get to decide which funds are available and which ones aren’t.”

When contacted by phone Friday, Washington’s 74-year-old mother, Helen Washington, said she received home improvements from local organizations, but that it was nobody else’s “business” what those improvements were and how much they cost.

“I was a single parent and I worked hard,” she said. “I didn’t have the extra cash to put into my home and these people have offered to do it.”

The nonprofits in question — Cattaraugus Community Action, Inc. and Chautauqua Opportunities, Inc. — both declined to say whether they provided any free or reduced-cost services to the Washingtons through their various housing improvement programs, citing confidentiality reasons. However, they added that eligibility requirements are set by various state and federal guidelines, not by the individual organizations.

Fountain Street residents say if that’s the case, state and federal guidelines need to be changed.

“Maybe there are rules (the nonprofits) have to follow and they couldn’t say no,” said Carrie Peters of 360 Fountain St., who lives directly across from the Washingtons, “but if that’s the case, our legislators need to know that this is not OK. It is not OK to spend our money on people like this.”

Home improvements

The collection of neighbors who reached out to the Olean Times Herald with their concerns include Whiteman, Peters, Todd and Janice Randall and Matthew Sage. In a group interview Aug. 30, they reported witnessing the Washingtons’ home receive several visits from vehicles with Cattaraugus Community Action and Chautauqua Opportunities insignias, and subsequent repairs that began in mid-August and wrapped up about a week and a half ago. They said those repairs appeared to include new windows, subflooring and installation, and that a new hot water tank was delivered to the home.

Both organizations provide home repair, as well as energy-saving and weatherization renovations to low-income people. Josiah Lamp, director of housing and community development for Chautauqua Opportunities, based in Dunkirk, said the organization tries to coordinate with Cattaraugus Community Action “as much as possible” to provide housing services in Cattaraugus County.

Both Lamp and Cattaraugus Community Action CEO Tina Zerbian declined to say if and what services the Washingtons received.

“All services that our agency provides to anyone in the community are held in confidence,” Zerbian said in an email.

Nonprofit agencies — even those that use government funds — are not subject to Freedom of Information Law or Freedom of Information Act requests.

Helen Washington said she applied for improvements, not her son, and they were for her benefit, not her son’s. Housh noted Helen Washington has not committed any crime and is entitled to whatever funds are legally made available to her, private or public.

However, both Washington and his mother are listed as owners of the property on Cattaraugus County Office of Real Property data and the city of Olean’s 2017 assessment roll. Officials with the city Assessor’s Office said, according to their records, Washington is the remainder of the property’s trust, meaning he will own the home when his mother dies.

“It’s mind-boggling that he’s sitting in (jail) and their property value is (increasing), meanwhile we surround them and our property value is (declining),” said Todd Randall of 341 Fountain St., whose property borders the Washingtons’.

“We’ll never be able to sell our house,” added his wife, Janice Randall.

Their concerns are valid, according to a study published by the American Economic Review in 2008. The study states houses within one-tenth mile of a sex offender’s home drop 4 percent in property value, while houses directly next to an offender’s home sell for about 12 percent less.

Washington was rated as a Level 2 sex offender during a Sex Offender Registration Act hearing last month, meaning his name and complete residence address are available on the state’s public registry.

Changing the policy

The county’s Community Action agency is a subsidiary of New York State Community Action Association. The state association’s website describes these agencies as “federally designated … frontline resource(s) for people living in poverty.”

Eligibility criteria for assistance programs are sometimes based solely on household income and are established on a case-by-case basis by the organization’s various funders, Zerbian said. Those funders include the Cattaraugus County, New York state and federal governments, as well as private entities.

For example, Cattaraugus Community Action received a $750,000 grant earlier this year from the New York State Division of Housing and Community Renewal to expand its weatherization and energy conservation program.

“We cannot withhold services from eligible clients based upon whether we, or anyone else, deems the client worthy above and beyond the eligibility criteria,” Zerbian stated. “ … Our mission is one of an anti-poverty organization. As such, we do not specifically outreach to persons with criminal backgrounds, nor do we typically deny services based solely upon a criminal record, although there are exceptions.”

Lamp gave a similar explanation in an interview Friday.

“Everything would need to be done in accordance to the law or specific regulations of a particular program,” he said.

Housh said if Washington’s neighbors take issue with the home receiving services, they should “seek remedy in the law.”

Todd Randall said he and his neighbors have reached out to local lawmakers, but many of them have not reached back. He believes some are “trying to bury this” because of the uncomfortable nature of the topic and because it could involve taking away resources from impoverished people.

“Regardless, it’s going to mean someone looks bad,” Randall said.

One of the lawmakers who did get back to them was a fellow Fountain Street resident, Cattaraugus County Legislator John Padlo, D-Olean.

Padlo said he spoke with Cattaraugus Community Action on behalf of his neighbors and was told the Washingtons qualified for the services they received; he said he has not heard of the Washingtons receiving services through Chautauqua Opportunities.

“Do I agree with it? No, I don’t, but if they fall in the criteria then they qualify for it,” he said. “I know what their point is: that there’s a convicted felon there. But Community Action’s point of view is those people qualify for it. They can’t discriminate.”

Padlo added that it’s his understanding the funds used to repair the Washingtons’ home came from the state and federal government, not Cattaraugus County. The majority of public funds received by Cattaraugus Community Action is from the state and federal government, said Padlo, adding the county sometimes acts as a “pass-through agency” for state and federal funds.

“Once we receive the money, we in turn pass the money through Community Action. Even then, the eligibility requirements can’t be changed or altered (by the county government),” he said. “Obviously, if it’s a law that can be done at county government, I’d certainly look into that.”

Neighbors said they are not against impoverished people receiving government assistance. They are concerned about the right people getting it.

“We don’t have anything against the volunteers for this community, the people who are working for it — it’s the rules on the process of the application and who they’re allowing to take this money,” Peters said.

A history of disputes

Helen Washington said she has lived in her home for over 50 years and never bothered anyone. She finds her neighbors’ issues with her home repairs “ridiculous.”

“I don’t think (my neighbors) should have their nose in my affair,” she said. “Every time I get company, or somebody is at the door, they run right out to see what’s going on.”

Olean police have responded to the Washingtons’ home for reports of neighbor disputes at least 10 times over the last two years, according to incident reports obtained by the Times Herald through a FOIL request.

The calls, made both by the Washingtons and against the Washingtons by their neighbors, mostly the Randalls, include complaints about loud music and plowing snow onto each other’s property. In two reports — one occurring just days after Washington’s arrest in June 2016 and the other a day before his sentencing in June of this year — neighbors allege Washington took cell phone pictures and video of them and their home. During the June 25 incident, Peters alleges Washington took pictures of her 5-year-old daughter playing in front of the house.

No one has been charged in any of the incidents.

Shortly after Washington’s arrest, neighbors who spoke with the Times Herald planted several signs on their own lawns that read “No excuse for child abuse” and “No pedophile zone.”

Neighbors said their signs are up not just to slam Washington.

“When (Washington was first arrested), we were more concerned that if someone were to take action into their own hands, are they going get the right house?” Peters said. “We were more concerned about our own safety.”

No incidents of vandalism to the Washingtons’ home have been reported, according to the police reports.

Housh considers the signs “harassment” and “vigilantism.”

Olean Police Chief Jeff Rowley said because the signs are not vulgar or threatening, they don’t break any laws.

“At least the signs that I saw, I really don’t have the authority to make them take them down or cover them up,” he said.

Housh said Olean police have failed to address neighbors’ alleged harassment of the Washingtons with the signs and ongoing neighborhood dispute. He said he has sent a letter about Olean police’s alleged lack of response to Rowley, Cattaraugus County Sheriff Timothy Whitcomb and New York State Police Superintendent George Beach, but heard nothing in response.

“At least according to my client, the Olean police are doing nothing, and by doing that they’re encouraging this kind of vigilante behavior,” Housh said.

Rowley said Olean police always respond when called by the Washingtons or their neighbors, and to say otherwise is inaccurate, noting he personally went to Fountain Street in the spring to listen to the Washingtons’ allegations.

Rowley said it’s difficult to press charges in neighbor dispute incidents, as offenses don’t necessarily warrant a charge, and often “something that may be annoying to you may not necessarily be illegal.”

“We’re just kind of hoping it resolves itself, and everybody grows up a little bit and leaves the other person alone,” he said.

Todd Randall said Housh’s accusations of vigilantism are an effort to deflect Washington’s guilt, adding that neighbors have never had a physical altercation with Washington.

With him being a softball coach at St. Bonaventure University, and his wife an owner of a Farmers Insurance agency, Todd Randall said he understands the public scrutiny that comes from pushing this issue and is not trying to be “inflammatory.”

He said his issue with the Washingtons was indeed the catalyst for his interest in this topic and “to pretend it didn’t start with them would be disingenuous.” But after several conversations with his neighbors, Randall said the concern among the neighbors expanded to a moral question.

“I keep thinking back to the victim,” said Peters, an OHS math teacher. “To see that the person who did this to you is sitting in jail but then getting all of these things done at their home — what are we teaching that child? That somebody can hurt him and then get free stuff?”

As far as the scope of what crimes should necessitate nonprofits to refuse services, Todd Randall has no answers, conceding that “everything is not black and white.”

“All I know is I’m looking next door and you’ve got the worst of the worst,” he said.

(Contact reporter Tom Dinki at tdinki@oleantimesherald.com. Follow him on Twitter, @tomdinki. Contact City Editor Danielle Gamble at dgamble@oleantimesherald.com. Follow her on Twitter, @OTHGamble.)

Coming out proud

Read a PDF of the print version here.


“Coming out” is a very common phrase in the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and asexual (LGBTQA) community. The phrase is so much a part of the community that National Coming Out Day was started in the late ’80s, and Oct. 11 will mark its 25th anniversary.

The two words encapsulate a complex, highly individual experience that those of non-heterosexual orientation go through. In order to get a better understanding of this rite of passage, we asked six UT students who identify as non-hetero a series of questions that started out with one: “When did you come out?”

Alex

It wasn’t until he was stationed in Baghadad, Iraq, that Alex Powell began to come to terms with his bisexuality. After a 12-plus hour day, he got back to his trailer around 8 or 9 p.m., but he couldn’t go to sleep.

“I remember that night, just walking around and praying and crying,” he said. “And I wanted to call my mom and I wanted to call my dad, and I had the resources to, but I just couldn’t bring myself at that point to call and talk to anybody. I really didn’t have anybody to talk to.”

Powell, an academic junior and first-year transfer student majoring in paralegal studies, joined the military when he was 18, the same age he married his wife. At the time he was wandering through the Baghadad night, a city he served in for 15 months, he was newly separated from his wife with three little girls at home.

He was also trying to deal with his first boyfriend, a member of his division that he referred to as a “battle buddy.”

“He just didn’t know what he wanted and I’ve never been one to not really know what I want,” he said. “And just being in limbo with him really was hard on me, because it was the first time that I really had feelings for a person of the [same] sex,” he said.

It’s been a difficult journey for Powell to get to where he is now. He was retired in 2009 from the Army after suffering brain trauma when his truck was hit by a roadside bomb. But more than his injuries, Powell said his experiences as a military paralegal affected his outlook on life.

As part of his job, Powell was asked to investigate all 40 deaths of the soldiers in his brigade, as well as two kidnappings.

“When you deal with death on a daily basis like that, with all the graphic details that come with it, it makes you rethink your life and how you spend your life,” he said. “It basically boils down to happiness. Do you want to live a life that you’re not happy every day? Or do you want to live a life that you’re just pleasing everybody else? And I chose to live a life in which I would be happy.”

Now, Powell is 28, divorced, a confirmed bisexual and in the second year of a gay relationship. He’s really happy where he is, because being bisexual means, “Whoever I end up in a relationship with is who I end up in a relationship with.”

“Some people don’t understand it,” Powell said. “Some people think it’s being greedy, but to me it’s not if you’re honest and you don’t try to hide who you are to other people who may come into your life.”

Melissa

Melissa Brodsky came out for the first time about halfway through second grade.

“I had a best friend, and I was just like ‘you know, I like her,’” she said. “And it turned out to be a ‘like’ like, which is what you would say in second grade, I guess.”

With a lifetime of Catholic upbringing to contend with, Brodsky’s instinct was to hide from being a lesbian. To face rejection, especially at such a young age, was unthinkable.

“I just realized automatically that I should not be feeling that way and that it was wrong,” she said.

But as she grew older and continued to feel different, she decided to tell, including her mom. At first, she was afraid of the rejection she’d face at the two Catholic, all-girl high schools she attended. But she was pleasantly surprised to find support, and her first girlfriend.

“I would say coming out to yourself is more of a realization of who you are; it’s finally understanding what makes you yourself,” she said. “But coming out to the community is telling everyone that you’ve found what makes you unique or independent or different from everyone else.”

But once she started to go public, not everyone was so accepting ­- like the children who began to taunt her little brother in sixth grade.

“He got a lot of backlash for it anyway once people found out,” she said, her eyes crinkled. “Someone actually threatened to kill him.”

“When my mom found out that this happened, she told me that I wasn’t allowed to act gay anymore, because she thought that was why my brother was threatened.”

But now, in her second year as a bioengineering major, Brodsky is “extremely” out – she’s the vice president of UT Spectrum , and her backpack is covered in buttons with phrases like, “When did you choose heterosexuality?” and “We the people; that means all of us,” stamped across them.

Jared

Jared was sure he was gay the summer before his junior year of high school. It was his first relationship with a girl.

“After a month of dating, I was like ‘Yeah – yeah, I’m gay,’” he said with a big laugh.

But way before then, he was suspicious.

“Looking back, I’d kind of always known I was gay,” he said. “The acceptance and coming out to my close friends kind of happened at the same time, but the thinking of it happened a long time before that.”

But the knowing and accepting were two different things for Jared, a second-year chemical engineering major who asked for his last name to be withheld.

Around his freshman year of high school, Jared told a friend about his sexuality. The process halted there because Jared “wasn’t sure this was how I really felt,” and it took about four years before he was sure enough to share his orientation.

Even now, Jared doesn’t consider himself “out publicly,” because he hasn’t told many people back home. He’s only talked to his mother, who he said isn’t very happy about it.

Jared said his mom wants his grandmother to know, but Jared and his mom agree that he’s not going to tell his grandfather.

“It just wouldn’t be productive to tell him,” he said quickly. “It would cause more issues than it would solve.”

But even though not everyone knows he’s gay, Jared doesn’t feel like he’s holding anything back.

“I don’t hide myself and I don’t feel like I have to hide myself,” he said. “The people around me accept me for who I am whether they know I’m gay or not, so how I act around people, I don’t change that whether they know I’m gay or not.”

Emily

Emily Hickey described coming out as “a long process, that I think I’m still somewhat going through.”

Hickey said she didn’t start considering that she was a lesbian until about 2009 as she approached the end of her undergraduate career at UT. She’s still here, working as a graduate assistant in office of assessment, accreditation and program review

Hickey said her hesitation had to do with lack of education. She remembers secretly reading magazines and books about the gay community: anything to “visualize what it would mean.”

After doing some research and meeting her first girlfriend (whom she met at a Catholic spiritual retreat), Hickey began to come to terms with her sexual identity.

Now, Hickey serves as an LGBTQ advocate and an active member of the community. She helped to organize the Toledo Pride parade for three years, and writes advocacy pieces for the Toledo Free Press.

But she has regrets. First, waiting so long to come out.

“My understanding when I was in high school was that if I accepted the fact that I was a lesbian, it meant that everything else in my life had to go away,” she said. “I didn’t know that those two could be together.”

Second, she regrets coming out not as a lesbian, but “just bisexual.”

“It still gave [my family] an idea that I could still be with a man. And I think by doing that I did myself a huge disservice, because I think I made it even more difficult for those that are in the bisexual community, that legitimately do identify as bisexual because they have feelings for both sexes.

“It did them a disservice,” Hickey said, looking at the wall of her office. “I did it the wrong way.”

Will

Even though Will came out to himself two years ago and to his friends a year and a half ago, he counts from when he outed himself to his family: six months ago.

Will, a fourth-year pharmacy major who asked for his last name to be withheld, remembered telling his sister first as an “experiment” before telling his mom, then dad.

“It’s a sin but it’s no worse than stealing,” he remembered his sister saying. “So like, you can be pardoned for it.”

He remembered his response with a laugh. “And I’m like, ‘Well, you can pardon my foot up your ass.’”

However, Will began the coming out process well before he could curse; he said he first began to realize he was gay around age 5.

One day, Will was with his friend Cory, watching a TV show that featured two men getting married. When Will’s dad came in the room, Will announced that he and his friend were going to get married.

Will laughed as he recalled his dad’s reaction.

“And he’s like ‘All right, that’s fine.’”

But it wasn’t fine with Will, at least not at first. He started dating at age 14, but only women. Ultimately, he said was involved with 14 women and had sex with three of them by the time he reached his second year at UT.

The moment it finally clicked that something was wrong, he said, happened thanks to the last woman he was with. After a tear-filled conversation in Carlson Library, she confessed that she felt like he didn’t love her.

“She’s my friend and she’s my lover,” he remembered thinking. “Why isn’t this working? This relationship is perfect. She’s a great person.

“And there’s just one part missing, and I think that’s me.”

Now, Will said he’s received a lot of love and understanding from his friends and family, and is enjoying the sixth week with his new boyfriend.

“My life has gone from what it’s ‘supposed to be’ to what I want it to be,” he said.

Sophie

Sophie Miller can’t keep track of the times she’s come out.

“I kind of came out multiple times because it was hard for my mom to get the idea of it,” she said with a sad smile.

Miller, a third-year majoring in nursing, said she started questioning her sexuality in seventh grade. She said she wasn’t thinking about girls, but she also “wasn’t excited about boy stuff. She decided to go to her mom for advice.

“Mom, I just don’t know what that means,” she remembers saying.

The reply? “Well, you’re not gay.”

“That was scary,” Miller said, “because I was like ‘Well, apparently you can’t be gay in this family.’ I don’t even have to use the word and all of a sudden my mom’s like ‘just for the record, that’s never an option.”

Though Miller said her brother, father and stepmother are accepting of her being a lesbian, Miller’s mother still struggles. But even though Miller describes her mom as her “best friend,” that doesn’t mean Miller is quiet about her orientation.

“It took me a long time to realize that just because it’s not an option in my mom’s head for me, doesn’t mean it’s not a reality,” she said.

That reality was still something Miller said she struggled to consolidate with her Christianity, which she ranks as the No. 1 priority in her life.

“That was a big struggle for me, because growing up I had always learned being gay is a sin, and being gay and being Christian are never going to mix. You’re not born that way, so you choose to be that way and it’s sinful.

“But I did some research on my own and read the Bible for myself and there’s definitely scripture in there that is obviously against homosexual relationships, but I think people misinterpret it quite a bit, because it’s referring to homosexuals that are raping one another, and they leave that out when they preach that it’s wrong.”

Now, Miller and her girlfriend, who plans on being a Lutheran youth pastor, have been together nine months.

“Once you fully embrace who you are, and you’re OK with where you are in life and who you are and who you’re with, then it doesn’t really matter what anyone else thinks,” she said. “It’s tough; there are days that are really tough, especially with my mom. But I think it’s up to everyone individually to surround themselves with people that support them for whoever they are.”

Trustee chair grilled by Faculty Senate

Read the live link here or a PDF of the print version here.


Tension erupted at Tuesday’s Faculty Senate meeting as University of Toledo Board of Trustees Chairman William Koester fielded questions for over an hour about faculty workload changes, the university’s deficit and administrative salaries.

Faculty workload has been a hot-button issue since administrators proposed reducing part-time faculty, increasing class sizes and cutting back on research that isn’t funded by outside sources. The proposals are part of “Imagine 2017,” UT’s main campus five-year plan.

For more information on the provost’s five year plan, visit the IC’s online resource for ‘Imagine 2017.’ 

Koester said the trustees are “trying to do what we believe is best for the university and its staff.”

But Andrew Jorgensen, associate professor of chemistry, said the suggested cuts to unfunded faculty research will alter the university “from the top in a way that would be very hard to recover from.”

“We’re making a dramatic change over a short period of time, and frankly, it’s informed and directed by leadership that doesn’t have the experience of leading the academic mission of a major university, as respected as those individuals may be,” he said.

Koester defended asking professors to focus on teaching rather than research, saying it would “go a long way in helping control some costs.”

“We’re not saying that you shouldn’t be doing research; we’re looking to see if we can improve that efficiency,” he said. “You professors are our best teachers and to some degree, are we keeping our best teachers out of the classroom?”

“Doing research doesn’t mean we aren’t teaching,” replied Patty Relue, associate professor of bio-engineering. “Doing research is a different kind of teaching because you’re usually working with graduate students.”

Amy Thompson, associate professor of health education, said students will be further hurt by recent changes to student services. She cited the elimination of director positions for the Sexual Assault Education and Prevention Program and the Alcohol, Tobacco and Other Drugs Prevention Program, as well as an increased emphasis on peer education.

“People are saying, ‘Well, we can provide that with peer education,’” she said. “Really? We’re going to have a student take another student to get a rape kit? Or really, we’re going to have another student go and do alcohol education and it be effective?”

In a January interview, former Dean of Students Michele Martinez said the goal for the new SAEPP is to have at least one employee from every college volunteer to become trained “first responders.” Those with more professional training who can lead victims through recovery and legal processes will be employees of the Counseling Center.

Koester said that because of budget constraints, the university is facing limited options.

“We want to do everything,” he said. “I would love to do everything, but we are limited to the resources we have, and we have to work with the resources we have to try to provide the services that we want.”

When Koester asked the senate to tell him if they felt the administration had misspent any money, Associate Professor Sharon Barnes of the women and gender studies department questioned Provost Scott Scarborough’s salary and bonus.

Scarborough’s salary, which the board approved on Sept. 17, is $389,000, not counting scheduled bonuses. The provost received a $100,000 bonus in December, and is set to collect two additional bonuses of $75,000 in June 2015 and June 2017.

Koester said the board does not “exercise direct authority” over President Lloyd Jacobs’ hiring choices.

“My guess is he believed that this is what he needed to pay to the provost that would be competitive with what he saw in the market place,” Koester said.

Applause broke out after some faculty comments, including when Thompson questioned several administrative decisions and spending choices.

“Why are we being forced to teach more and do the work when people are getting bonuses and getting raises that we don’t have?” she asked. “I don’t mind taking one for the team; I don’t mind teaching more if I have to. But let’s all take the load, not just the faculty.”

Koester said the plans are meant to avoid layoffs, citing Bowling Green State University’s plan to cut about 100 faculty positions this year.

Koester said the university is “maxed out” on the amount of tuition it can charge students, and the board is being pushed by the state to increase workloads.

“From the top down, we’re seeing pressure that we think we have to address,” he said. “We don’t think we can continue to raise fees to cover additional costs.”

“If we can fix the problem now, we can maybe later save ourselves from some government bureaucrat coming in and forcing changes on us,” he said.