TEACHER ABUSE AFFECTS FAMILIES

LISTEN TO THE DAUGHTER OF AN INDIANA TEACHER FALSELY ACCUSED OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT WHO WROTE AN ESSAY FEBRUARY 14, 2005, FOR HER FRESHMAN HONORS ENGLISH CLASS, NAPTA:

The mere memory of this event that happened nearly two years ago causes me such frustration and anger that I still have to clench my fists and bite down hard not to start crying or yelling. Anything to make myself heard. My dad lost his job.

I am not stupid. I realize this kind of thing happens everyday, families keep going, families move on. But the circumstances surrounding the experience is what causes me to feel this burning, red anger that I have never felt any other time in my life. I have come to understand that bad things can happen to good people, through no fault of their own, or because of some other blunder they have made along the way. I have come to understand there is not always a justifiable reason for everything that we experience in life. I have come to realize that life is not fair.

In 7th grade, almost two years ago, I was incredibly carefree. Everything seemed to be going my way. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, my mom pulled me aside and told me that she needed to talk to me. I calmly said okay, but inside I immediately transitioned from lighthearted to worried. “What could have possibly happened that could cause my mom’s face to look so downcast?” I wondered. She told me dad is having some problems at work. (Work is being a 7th and 8th grade health teacher at the Middle School - the same work that he had worked at for over twenty-five years.) She told me, each word slowly and deliberately, that a girl said my dad, my daddy, made an inappropriate comment to her and things were extremely serious. I wanted to laugh. My 7th grade mind thinks, “How in the world could my mom look so sad over something like this?” Obviously the girl made a mistake, heard him wrong, or misunderstood something he said. It’s absurd to think that something like a mishearing could result in something as serious as my mom currently looks. But I was wrong.

Over the next month, I see my parents start to change. Everyone is constantly on the phone, talking about the “incident”. My mom is forever typing things, letters I think to different people. At times, my dad seems to have lost his sparkle. The glow that usually radiates so strongly seems to have burned out by thoughts I can’t understand. Life is like that cold you get in December that just refuses to go away no matter how much Tylenol you take. We take Tylenol one day and everything is just as it always was, and then the next it flares back up and we’re coughing again with our lives centered on his job.

The school’s principal asked my dad to come to a “pre-deprivation hearing” that is required to terminate a contract, in order to hear each side of the story. We were prepared and ready to present our side. Then, ten minutes before scheduled to begin, the principal canceled, and said it would be rescheduled. Needless to say, it was never rescheduled. Law violation number one.

And then it happened, May 15, one day after my birthday, the principal came to my dad after school and told him plain and simple, either retire, or we will terminate your contract. He justified this by concluding that my dad was immoral and insubordinate, because there had been other complaints in the past twenty-five years of his teaching. Because, of course, every teacher that passes through this school corporation is perfect. Because, of course, every complaint made by a middle schooler is always legitimate and true. Our family was in shock.

We decided my dad has worked too hard and too long to give up on his teaching career, so we decided to fight it. We told them no, no we are not resigning. We want a hearing. (By law a tenured teacher is allowed to request a hearing before their contract is terminated.) A hearing is scheduled over the summer, July 11.

So began the process of gathering our information to present our case the best we could. This meant more changes that I could see around my house, more calls, more letters. Our family started to do some digging. And what we found is amazing. Ever since our superintendent was appointed, more than ten long-time teachers and administrators have suddenly “retired”, meaning the school told them, just like my dad, retire, or we will terminate your contract. All of these teachers were high salary teachers, some principals too. We also started investigating if what the girl heard was actually true. We lined up four boys that were willing to testify that said no, that’s not what we heard, and just that one girl testified who said yes, that is what I heard. I also offered to testify myself. This brought a whole new wave of emotions, even more anxiousness, even more nervousness for our day, July 11.

Even though the wait was hardly bearable, it eventually came. I was allowed to sit in and watch, listen, and soak in everything that happened. I was so scared, I wanted to cry, but most of all I was more furious than I had been at any time in my life. Every inch of my skin bubbled with rage at what they dared try to do to my family. Many people testified for our side. Just sitting back and listening to each party made everything seem too crazy to believe. How could anyone not see the injustice of the situation? After it was over, I was so relieved, our side sounded incredibly good. But then, my older sister remembered something astounding, the superintendent was not present for my dad’s testimony. Therefore, not hearing his side, how could he make a fair statement at the end to the board, or was his mind already made up? Was hearing my dad’s side not necessary in making his “fair” decision? Law violation number two.

The wait was endless. It seemed as if our lives were on hold; in many aspects our lives depended on this verdict. We had no idea what to expect. And then we got it. Unbelievably, we lost. It was one of the most devastating blows to my family that I have ever endured. I cried, my sister cried, my mom cried, and even my dad, one of the strongest people I know, cried. All we could do was just try to get back to normal as much as we could, which would prove to be tricky.

Eventually, it leaked out to school. My dad is not teaching anymore, would not be returning. Rumors started everywhere I went, which then left me to deal with it the best I could. I remember one time in 8th grade, a substitute was going over all his old teachers and we were laughing and making fun of them. And then he says, “Now guys don’t go crazy over this, but I had Mr. X.” Everyone went silent. Then some boy in my class whispers loudly to his friends, “Yeah he’s one the one that raped us all.” The people that were around him all laughed, but I could hear it. I could feel my cheeks burning red, I had the greatest urge to slap him right across the face. But at the moment all I could do was slouch down and fight back the urge to cry. I dealt with those kinds of comments all year, and I am still forced to deal with them. Now that I am in high school, there are four more generations of his students that have opinions of him that they find hilarious to share with me or just whisper when I walk by.

Aside from being a huge emotional blow, it has also been a huge financial blow. My dad has been reduced with his Masters degree in education and all of his experience in teaching, to a van driver who takes medicine to nursing homes making $9.25 an hour. He usually gets home around three in the morning. I honestly miss him; I hardly get to see him except for a few hours a day after school and sometimes on weekends. He can never go to mine or my sister’s sports games, because he always has to work to make ends meet. Even though principals in other schools believe my dad’s side and have heard of what is going on here and want to hire him because he is a good teacher, he still can’t get a job with them because he has too much experience and a master’s degree. The school systems won’t allow a principal to hire a teacher that cost more than the bare minimum. I suppose what hurts the most is that the school board and superintendent will continue, and are currently continuing, to do this to other respected, hard working teachers. And there is nothing I can do about it. If there is one thing that I have learned from this ordeal, it is that even if you are a good person, and do good things, bad things can still happen to you. But, the true measure of your character is how you handle it. We are going to keep fighting it, we are never going to give up, and even though it doesn’t seem like it now, I know things will work out in the end.

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