A Letter to the Board of Education

Looking back on it, I could have been fired. The letter that, as a young hotshot high school band director disgruntled by a proposed change proffered by the new district superintendent, I wrote and hand-delivered to board of education members during a board meeting may not have been protected by the constitutional right to free speech.

At minimum, my impertinence could have given the district pause to grant me tenure. Like many teachers then and now, however, tenure was not for me a reason to do or not do as I was already doing, which is to say, the very best I could.

As students of education law know, under certain circumstances, restrictions on constitutional freedoms may be justified by governmental interests. Such circumstances include when a teacher's behavior compromises teaching effectiveness, relations with principals and other administrators, or the operation of school generally.

So what did I write in that letter? First, it is important to know that I did not attend the board of education meeting in question. Unbelievably, the superintendent himself, unaware of its contents, distributed copies of my letter to each board member, several of whom had children in my band.

In retrospect, I do not know whether his confidence in me was born more of trust or ignorance. Inasmuch as this was his first superintendency, I suspect more the latter than the former. Yet, his not asking me about the letter's contents or my motive seems to this day incredible. No more incredible, I suppose, than was my brashness.

Sealed in separate envelops, my letter stated, point by point, my opposition to perceived damages to the band program due to the loss of teaching time in moving from a junior high school to a middle school model. Without remembering exactly the words I wrote, my intent was to derail the superintendent's plans, as if I were just anyone in the community.

But I was not just anyone in the community. As an employee of the district, I owed to my administrators my support even in the face of personal reservations about the proposed changes. Instead, I jumped over my superiors' heads and took my case straight to board members. This is one story I tell myself. The other story is that I had done all I could do to get the superintendent's attention, but my entreaty was falling on deaf ears.

When the superintendent found out what my letter said, it certainly got his attention. Within 24 hours, I found myself standing before him receiving a lesson in humility. He wanted, as he said, not to fire me but "to set the boat aright." Those were his words.

I was humbled, but only a little bit. Within a year, the new superintendent was himself fired. Did I contribute to his removal? I will never know. How close was I to removal myself? You tell me.