A PERILOUS WALK TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE

She Never Saw It Coming!

When you were in school, were you ever sent to the principal’s office?  If not, I invite you to imagine walking three long hallways towards a room which usually holds no rewards, only condemnation. Your heartbeat races, as the anticipation of what might be waiting for you grows like a steady thump, thump, thump pounding behind your eye sockets. What offense required you to make this journey? Would anyone be there who could refute the charges? Actually charges for what!? As the hallways grow shorter, you realize that the light at the end of the tunnel could actually be that oncoming train. The pit in your stomach consumes your breathing. You wipe your palms nervously against your pant leg as you announce your arrival to the aloof secretary. Can you read her face? Does she know what crime summoned you there?  Nothing. Just a blank stare and a patronizing, “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Many of America’s school-aged children know this odyssey well. Seldom is the news good if you are commanded to appear in the principal’s office. The same can be true regarding today’s teachers. For you see, on April 25, 2017 (six years ago today), I made that perilous trek to my principal’s office. The long hallways, headache, shortness of breath manifested themselves as I traveled toward my destiny. This office of administrative prowess seldom held respect for anything I accomplished in my nine years. Verbal assaults by the assistant principal became a weekly endurance. My department colleagues held me in contempt. In spite of those efforts of others to undermine me, my program grew from three choirs to eight over my tenure. In my last year of teaching (2017), our a cappella choir competed on the national stage and made quarterfinals in Dallas, Texas. Two days after that trip, over spring break, I took a group of students to New York City where they were treated to two Broadway shows, followed by workshops collaborating with Broadway performers and directors. My work in choral music education was to be honored by a professional organization at their spring concert in May. I was definitely an overachiever in this, my 46th year of teaching. It became apparent I was a thorn in the side of my administration and colleagues. Success may have created my greatest offense. The mid-day meeting with my principal on April 25, 2017, could best be described as a sucker-punch.

I am still unable to comprehend the words I heard that day. “You will not be the choral director here next year. If you do choose to return, you will be placed where you cannot hurt any children.” My breath actually stopped. Swallowing hard, I tried to make sense of those words and started to ask questions. The principal’s voice raised in decibels, as if scolding a naughty child. “Did you not hear me? You are not going to be teaching choir here next year!”

Beware of the new normal in American education! Tenured, successful teachers don’t get fired. They are bullied until they just give up and fade into the retirement sunset. After years of harassment, condescending feedback and seldom receiving support, I walked away. My union membership seemed powerless, probably due to my age.

My gravestone should read She Never Saw It Coming! In my personal life, there were always those things which blindsided me. As a defense mechanism, I crowned myself with a new title: Queen of the Worst Case Scenarios. I tried to foresee any negative event which could lead to my possible downfall and then attempted to navigate through it with composure. It seldom worked. April 25, 2017, was no different. I had not seen this coming. And just in the blink of an eye, my passionate flame for teaching was extinguished. Or was it?

In 2018 I began writing a book about my 46 years as a teacher. It was published 19 months later. My story is laced with anecdotes of success, failure, teachable moments, and what an honor it was to be called “teacher”. April 25, 2017, was my day which will live in infamy. As dramatic as it may sound, this best describes the deepest hurt I ever experienced as a 46 year veteran teacher.

And now the teacher flame is rekindled. I write blogs and speak my passion on podcasts, under the title of Rescue the Teacher. Today, I celebrate the six year cancellation of my career! Do I know why my  teacher status came to such an abrupt and turbulent halt? Frankly, it doesn’t matter six years later. But I do know this: April 25, 2017, propelled me into a fierce advocacy for the way America’s teachers are treated. My hope is that through my writing and speaking, you will take an active role ensuring American education no longer is at the bottom, looking up. My retirement holds a purpose. I Never Saw That Coming.